“We’ve talked about this, Soph.” Mama flopped down on my bed. She picked up my light pink wig and started to braid the strands.
I stomped over to the storage chest. A wave of my hand, an unbinding command in my head, and the lock clicked open. “You guys have talked about this. I haven’t had any say in it at all!”
“What if we see if we can get Jerome to attend Bloodline?” Dad offered.
“Yeah right. Fat chance of that happening.”
Of all the shifters, Jerome was closest to me in age. He was still three years older. Shifters had a difficult time conceiving in the Earth dimension. Something about the energy not being strong enough to sustain their life forces. They tended to have children in spates, depending on the moon. I was unlucky enough to have been born during a shifter dry spell. As a result, I was the only sixteen-year-old in the compound. Jerome wouldn’t be caught dead being seen with me in public.
“You know why you have to be here,” Mama said. She came to stand beside me as I opened the chest to make sure all my ingredients were safe.
“I know why you guys want me here. Doesn’t mean it makes sense or I have to like it.”
Mama took the glass bauble of dragon’s breath from my hands and laid it back in place. “I know it’s hard. But for better or worse, you’ve inherited his gift. This is the opportunity of a generation to show them we’re not cannibalistic savages.”
Oh, right, did I forget to mention great-grandfather also ingested the bodies he cooked up to absorb their essences? “Why should we have to show them anything? It’s not like they’re teddy bears!”
Dad stood and walked over. He threw his arm around my shoulders. “I know it sucks, kiddo. But this isn’t just our dimension anymore. If we want to survive, we have to play nice with them.”
“That’s what you think. Everyone’s so busy assuming I’ll turn out to be a low-magic mass murderer. It would serve them right if I did it for real.” The spite lasted about two seconds. Just the thought of using my magic to hurt somebody made my stomach churn. There was something inexplicable in my magic that revolted at the idea of harming others. That was why what my great-grandfather did had been so unexpected. Kitchen magic was supposed to heal. Grammy was convinced he’d been demon possessed.
“Oh, Sophie,” Mama said. “I know it’s hard. But I have this feeling that things will work out for you eventually.”
“How long is eventually? I hope it’s before I get grey hair.”
But what she said made me feel a little better. Mama might not have inherited much of the kitchen magic, but she did have gut feelings. She didn’t get visions, but she would know things. I only hoped she wasn’t just saying positive things to get me to stay here. They finally left when I promised not to hop on the next portal out of here.
It was unheard of for students not to want to attend Bloodline. Aside from the prestige, this place boasted the best teachers and training facilities in the world. Basically, it was a supernatural jerk-magnet.
I glanced at the storage chest and then the door. It occurred to me that not having a roommate did have some perks. I drew a circle in my mind that covered the doorway and corridor. It would alert me if anyone came close.
I popped open the storage chest and pushed the lid up. With the greatest care in the world, I removed the first layer of magical ingredients. Those ingredients had taken me years to collect. One breakage would cost me a tonne of money. Setting them down on the floor, I found the latch for the false bottom of the chest and levered it open. The buzz of concealing magic chased up my arm as I pressed my hands to the compartment. The magic sensed my energy and dissolved.
Biting my bottom lip, I pulled my great-grandfather’s diary out of the chest. The familiar shiver raced down my spine as I touched the old leather. Great-grandfather might be gone but his essence remained in the things he left behind.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I’d pored over these pages when I’d first discovered the diary. Grammy had left it to me in her will. It had been concealed inside the base of a music box. Mama would have a heart attack if she knew I had this. So would the rest of the supernatural community. It wasn’t like it had instructions on how to perform dark magic rituals. It was just a diary. Albeit one that belonged to a serial killer. Mostly, it was just theories about how his magic, and now my magic, worked. As far as I knew, there was nobody else like us. There was no other way for me to learn about how my magic worked. Otherwise, I would have burned the diary and been done with it.
I read until well after midnight. By the time I locked the diary away and slipped into bed, my thoughts were a jumble. Sleep didn’t come easily. When it finally did, it didn’t stay long. My eyes were dragged open because I was having trouble breathing. It felt like something was pressing down on my chest. Darkness greeted me. But it wasn’t the kind of soft darkness I was used to. The Academy was usually lit at night be Fae lanterns. The lights mimicked the natural rhythm of the moon and the fireflies. There was a lantern station not far from my window. It meant I was never in true darkness.
This thing that I had woken up to was pitch black. What struck me was that it didn’t envelop the room. The edges of the darkness hovered over me like a cloud. The same feeling of cold
