Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(9)

“It means you’ll be spending the next three years at Saints Academy.”





Chapter 3

Rhea

I run my fingers through my hair, looking down at the contents in my small, rundown suitcase. It’s

been through a lot with me, from leaving the orphanage, to storing my clothes here, and now.

Here we are, about to go on another unknown adventure.

What the ever-loving fuck is going on?

And how in the fucking fuck did this become my life?

Honestly, I don’t know, but I feel like someone somewhere must be able to answer the questions

swirling around in my head. I was escorted home in a daze, the reminder of the douchey guard in my

mind has me looking over my shoulder at the front door to my apartment.

They’re on the other side, waiting for me to get my belongings before we leave.

Leave.

It doesn’t make any fucking sense to me at all.

There’s clearly been some kind of mistake somewhere because I can’t be supernatural. Not even a

little bit. I would know if I was, I’m sure of it. I would bet my life on me being human.

Apparently, Saints Academy awaits since Pandora’s Box said I’m gifted, and I’m expected to

leave right away. For Paradise Heights.

Paradise. Fucking. Heights.

My brain keeps short circuiting because… just what the fuck?

A hard knock sounds from my door, and I release a huff, flipping the lid of my suitcase over

before zipping it up. The temptation to flip them off is strong but at this rate, who knows if they can

see through my door? “I’m coming,” I grouch, still confused why the change had to happen today, this

very instant. Can’t I be given a moment to process any of this?

What happened back there was… That sound, that scream, I don’t ever want to hear anything like

it again for as long as I live. I shake my head, trying to remove every inch of the memory from my

mind.

I would have told the lady with the yellow eyes she was truly mistaken if she hadn’t proceeded to

pull out a dagger from the box, dipped in gold, with my name engraved into the handle.

Rhea Harrington.

Any other time or place and I would have said it was a parlor trick, but it seems my life is taking

a whole different path. Not that I understand what any of this actually means, but fuck, it’s mine now

apparently.

Taking one final look around my apartment, my home, my sanctuary, I lift the suitcase, upset that

all I have to bring with me fits comfortably inside. I’ve written a note and left it on the kitchen

counter, advising my landlord I’ll be gone for a while, or forever? On the way home, my brain went

into overdrive, worrying about all of the things that needed to be arranged, all the bills I can suddenly

no longer pay, and I even had to send Vinny an email to explain I wasn’t coming back to work.

There’s no way in hell I had the words to explain it over the phone, with actual complete sentences,

so an email had to do.

Once someone speaks to me about the situation, then maybe I’ll have words to consider using to

provide a coherent explanation. This better not be a fucking hoax because they’re upending my life

and I’ll have nothing to come back to if it turns out this isn’t real.

“Let’s go,” the guard calls out impatiently from the other side of the door, another heavy knock

quickly following, and I roll my eyes.

In leggings and a white blouse with my nicest pair of sandals, I move toward the door, leaving my

greasy uniform behind.

I’ve thrown up in the toilet, screamed into my pillow, and downed the largest mug of coffee I’ve

ever made, and still I find myself as tense as earlier. Only this time there’s the added worry of what

the fuck actually comes next. I hate not knowing what lies in store for me because it feels like I no

longer have control over my life, once again.

Opening the door, the bulky guard stands with his arms firmly folded over his chest as he glares

down at me. My snarky comment freezes on the tip of my tongue. As much as I want to lay into him,

he’s also dictating what I’m supposed to do, and I don’t want to piss him off. Just by his gruff

appearance alone, he looks like he could make my life a living hell. So when he turns on the spot,

heading for the stairs, I don’t miss a beat and I follow after him. A subdued little girl I’m definitely

not, but I’m okay to admit that I’m not okay right now and letting him take the lead seems like the most

logical choice I can make.

The walk down the stairway feels daunting, knowing I won’t be able to come back here any time

soon. I’ve always dreamed of a better place than here, but at twenty-two, I was also highly aware of

my reality. I know I’m going to miss this place. It’s home. It is mine. And now, it seems I’m theirs.

I tried to tell the yellow-eyed lady that I was happy where I was, being who I am, a human, but

that apparently wasn’t taken into consideration and Pandora’s Box is never wrong.

Stepping out into the street, the guard is polite enough to hold the door for me. I offer a tight smile