The Curse (H. Academy Series #1)
Chapter 23: Breach

The lust charm worked its magic all night, and flashes of Leon’s eyes in the darkness haunted my dreams. I couldn’t quite discern reality from dream, but when Thar joined in, I was pretty damn sure it was a dream. My heartbeat thudded in my chest, and wetness pooled my panties. It was the sweetest kind of torture, especially as I lingered between sleep and wakefulness, my fingers in my panties. The dream was still fresh in my mind, the dream in which I had both of them, and my middle finger brushed my clit, sending a shudder down my spine.

My mind concocted its own pictures – both of them in my room, their hands on my body, pulling up my nightgown. Fingers grazing the insides of my thighs, lips kissing my neck, teeth scraping against my earlobes.

I knew it would never happen.

Leon might even be up for it, but Thar Adara would never share a woman. I knew it in my bones. But I tortured myself with the idea for a little while longer, until I came fast and hard, a gasp leaving my lips and clearing up my mind.

Crap. I breathed in deeply and opened my eyes.

Orange rays of sunshine spilled through the large window all over my bed, colouring the ruby sheets a vibrant gold. Dragging myself out of the bed, I went to take a shower, needing to wash last night’s sin off my skin. I leaned against the marble sink and stared at myself.

My face was flushed and hot, my lips red, and eyes shining. The lust charm was still pumping through my veins, somehow becoming stronger the more I thought about last night.

Goddess, what the fuck happened?

“Good morning.” Morta’s voice startled me so much that I jumped.

“Fuck.” I exclaimed and glanced at her. “You scared me.”

Morta offered a chuckle and crossed her hands on her chest, wrinkling her silk black PJs, “That means you have something to hide.”

“My head is pounding.” I murmured. “I think I need someone to kill me.”

Morta laughed darkly, “How about you tell me what happened last night?”

“I need a shower.” I went through my hair, which was sticky and smelled like cigarettes. “I feel disgusting.”

“Because you let Leon devour your kitty-cat?” Morta shouted after me, but I was already in the shower, letting hot water wash off the remains of last night.

After washing every inch of my body thoroughly, swearing I’d never get drunk on the lust charm again, and running through every possible scenario ensuing when I saw Thar or Leon next time around, I finally felt confident enough to face the consequences of my actions.

Technically, nothing happened. That was my story.

Leon brought me to his room, we made out a little, and when I found out he didn’t have a condom, I left. Whether I was completely ready to sleep with him or not was irrelevant.

Thar got a little drunk and a little protective, so he wanted to know whether I was alright. He wasn’t checking on me just to see if I was in Leon’s room. He totally did not admit he was jealous.

Oh, Goddess.

“Come on, you’ve showered enough!” Morta shouted, making me wonder if she was waiting by the door for me to finish. “Amma figured something out.”

“Of course, she did.” I wrapped a towel around my hair, and stepped out. “Was she even at the party?”

“I don’t know, Jade.” Morta raised her eyebrow. “Did you see anyone except for Leon?”

I rolled my eyes, “Stop, nothing happened.”

“You were making out with him in front of the entire Academy, Bella, Thar, and your father.” Morta could barely suppress the grin. “And you’re going to tell me that nothing happened?”

“It got weird. I’ll tell you later.” I dried my body with another towel. “Where is Amma?”

“In her room, pacing back and forth like a lunatic.” Morta said. “Probably regretting the fact she knows Latin.”

“She figured something out?”

Suddenly, the entire previous night perished from my mind. There were other, more important things to think about right now. Like my dead grandmother telling me my father was lying and that the end of witches was here.

“Yes.” Morta took in a sharp breath. “And I’m afraid she has something for us.”

“What?”

Morta’s face distorted, “Books. Lots and lots of books.”

I grunted, “Let’s go.”

After I put on sweatpants and a hoodie, we hopped over to Amma’s room.

Chaos ruled inside.

Books, notebooks, sticky notes, pencils, erasers, and pens swarmed the place. Amma sat on the floor in the middle of the mess, grabbing a book, then a notebook, then a different book. Her eyebrows knitted above her nose, her eyes were wide with fury and concentration, and every now and then, she’d reach for the huge green mug of coffee that had its own special place on the floor. Once she noticed us, she glanced up.

“You look like crap.” She murmured.

“I look how I feel.” I sat on the beige carpet. “Morta, can you put on coffee?”

“No time for that.” Morta joined me on the floor. “Your father called a meeting in the main hall.”

I was absolutely not equipped to deal with this, not after the night I’ve had. But it was either that or reading a bunch of Amma’s books. There seemed to be no rest for me in the foreseeable future.

“When?” I grunted, fighting the urge to lay my head on Amma’s soft fluffy carpet.

“Half an hour.” Amma eyed me. “You better go change.”

“Tell me what you found out first.”

Amma went through papers scattered on the floor and chose one. She handed it to me. I scanned it, realising it was the paper she wrote my grandmother’s messages from yesterday.

Media nocte ostium aperit. Signum perficit ante.

My stomach, still full of the witch’s brew and last night’s embarrassment, upturned at the sight of the words scribbled down. I looked up.

Amma met my gaze, “The door opens in the middle of the night. The sign completes beforehand.”

There was nothing confusing about the translation. In fact, it was so clear that pure dread washed over me and my eyes flew to my wrist, and the pentagram now covered with my sleeve.

Morta scooted closer, “Do you think the pentagram is just a warning?”

I pulled the sleeve up and glanced at the two filled points, “They filled after the attacks. Three more to go and-”

“The door opens.” Amma finished, her eyes wide with terror. “Which door?”

“Not to sound like a doomer, but probably the gates to Hell.” Morta pursed her lips.

“We need to tell someone.” Amma whispered. “We need to-”

“Get to the main hall.” I finished. “The only person I’m sharing this with is Thar, and until then, we’re not going to cause suspicion.”

Amma looked at the floor and all the papers and books surrounding her. Her gaze hopped around, and I knew she was probably coming to the same conclusion as me.

“Occam’s razor.” She mumbled. “The simplest answer is usually the correct one, and in this case, the simplest answer is that your father is behind it.”

A sigh left my lips, “Trust me, I know.”

“His notebook contains the word spell that invokes the demonic entity. The two attacks filled the two points in the pentagram on your wrist. It seems like he’s trying to open something, and your grandmother knew, which is why she put that sign on your wrist and her ghost said your father was lying.”

“I know.” I repeated, to which Amma shut up.

My father was a difficult man, there was no doubt about that, but a part of me still felt couldn’t find a good enough reason for him to purposely sacrifice so many children for a nefarious cause. I needed a motive.

“Let’s go.” Amma sighed while getting up. “If Vice Mage Montgomery is behind this, I’d rather not sign my death warrant by being late.”

I dragged myself back into my room and put on my school uniform. I’ve decided against standing out from the crowd this time. Even though there was a huge threat looming over us, I was selfishly terrified of facing both Leon and Thar. Rumours that I’ve slept with Leon have already been circling the school, and I was pretty damn certain those rumours weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, not after the stunt I’ve pulled on the dancefloor.

In that moment, pissing off everyone, including my father and Thar, seemed like a splendid idea. Now, I’d understand if no one found me reliable anymore. Why would they think they could count on me when I pulled a temper tantrum and PDA-ed with a notorious fuckboy whenever I didn’t get my way?

I combed my still slightly wet hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail. My reflection stared back at me, tired and haunted.

“Come on!” Morta called, and I left the mirror alone, trying to forget the dark circles under my eyes.

An eerie aura followed us to the main hall, like the dread filled the cracks between the bricks of H. Academy. Despite the party last night, or maybe because of it, the students kept their heads bowed down, unwilling to meet anyone’s stare. Most of them began wearing pedants in the shape of protection signs around their necks, their wrists, sowed onto their clothing.

“How about you tell us what happened last night before we find out we’re doomed forever?” Morta fell into step beside me, eying me sideways.

Amma joined on the other side and whispered, “Did you really sleep with Leon?”

“No.” I answered just when we entered the mail hall, the room spreading in front of us half-empty. “Thar called me and interrupted us.”

“What?” Morta stopped, her nails digging into my forearm. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

“You slept with a teacher?” Amma’s eyes went wide.

“Shh!” I hissed. “I didn’t. Now, let’s find a seat.”

Eugene and Dean were sitting around one of the tables on the left side of the hall, both looking like they’d just woken up and thrown the first thing they find on themselves, which happened to be matching pink t-shirts. I caught sight of Leon, sitting with a group of people including Bella, his eyes following me since the moment I walked through the door. Our eyes met for a brief moment, but I couldn’t read his expression. He looked resentful, and strangely enough, I felt guilty.

As we sat around the table and no one said anything, I felt the tension in the air. We knew something was wrong. We knew we were about to find out something awful, especially when my father walked in and joined the teachers on the cathedra.

Professor Lange and Professor Darth whispered amongst themselves quietly, Professor Lorenia looked distraught and Thar wouldn’t look up from his lap, his fingers pressing the bridge of his nose. I didn’t recognise the others, but they looked just as terrified.

My father, dressed completely in black and covered with a pompous red robe – the robe of the High Council, stood in front of the teachers. There was a shift in the atmosphere. His presence was commanding, authoritarian, dominant, and some students cowered under his gaze, but there were also breaths of relief released throughout the hall. They thought they were safe when my father was present.

The authorities knew what was going on. The Arch mage was contacted. They were working on helping us.

My father cleared his throat, “Winston Academy students will be transferring to Hunt Academy during the next week. Their wards have been breached.”

***

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