Suspension (Elmwick Academy Book 2) Read online

  We whirl around in time to see the couple stumble over the threshold, entangled in a ravenous embrace. Fillan kisses the girl at the crane of her neck, blocking her face from view and ripping the lilac ribbons at the back of her corset. The girl tips her head back in a quiet moan before her beetle-black eyes land on us.

  Charity almost slaps Fillan off her when she spots us. I tear my eyes from her guilty expression to glance at Awan, who stares at them in denial. It quickly morphs into ire, burning in his eyes.

  Fillan touches a thumb to the corner of his mouth as if to wipe it. “You’re a bunch of big, fat lurkers, aren’t you?” He smirks. “Fine, you can watch this one time.”

  He reaches for Charity again, but she swats his hands away. She steps towards us, her face draining of blood as she stares at Awan, horrified.

  My heart shrinks for my friend. I gape, unsure what to say. Nothing would make a difference to Awan right now.

  He doesn’t give Charity or any of us a chance to say anything. Awan turns away and crosses the distance to the double doors in wide, quick steps. They bang open in front of him to reveal Jester’s vicious smile, showing all of his surprisingly white teeth.

  “There you all are,” he says with that annoying flair for the dramatic. His gaze roves over us, as if to make sure we’re all accounted for. Then his expression changes into a no-nonsense, tense look. “Listen to me very carefully. If you want to leave this castle alive, you’ll come with me now. Quickly.”

  Awan looks ready to punch him, although I’d blame that entirely on Charity and Fillan’s indiscretion.

  Jester clicks his tongue. “You did hear me say quickly, right?”

  Cami throws a final, shocked glance over her shoulder at Charity and Fillan, as if to explain the awkwardness floating in the air.

  “Hope you didn’t tear a ribbon on that dress.” Jester’s tone is amused, but his eyes turn cold as they fix on Charity. “These pieces are incredibly rare.”

  “More like incredibly old,” Fillan says.

  We all silence him with a cutting look. He raises his hands in resignation, palms facing us. “Okay.”

  Cami turns to Jester. “What’s going on? I thought tonight was a celebration of the goodwill between us.”

  Our host presses his lips into a tortured smile. “Come on, banshee. You aren’t silly enough to believe they’d let you go after a night of alcohol abuse, did you? They’ll wake up with cravings that much harder to curb. Your window to get out of here is now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without my sister,” I say.

  Jester’s eyes flick to me, then back to Cami. “Honestly, do you see yourself with someone that uptight? It’s like he has a stick lodged right up his hunter—”

  “Enough,” Cami cuts him off.

  “Fine.” Jester shakes his head dramatically, making the bells on his hat jingle. “Jean knows the castle. I’m a man of my word. I’m letting her go with you and freeing her of her commitment to me. She’s leading the others to your escape right now.”

  That seems to mobilize us. Cami and I share a quick nod. Charity fixes the strap of her dress that has slid down her shoulder. Only Awan refuses to look anywhere but at his shoes.

  “Well then,” Jester says. “Shall we?”

  He almost dives into the bushy hedge, wrestling against the scratchy twigs which pull at his suit vest. He presses a tile on the balcony railing. Stones scrape against each other until a narrow passage appears between two of the pots for the shrubbery.

  Jester grins. His colorful hat tilts so far to one side that he looks more insane than ever. “Who wants to go first?”

  AWAN DOESN’T WAIT FOR another invite, desperate to put some distance between himself and Charity and Fillan. I follow him, Cami and the others in tow. I’m lost for words to help my friend. Charity isn’t his girlfriend. Despite how perfect everyone might think they’d be together, despite all the jokes, he never made the move. Neither did she.

  She isn’t cheating on him, technically, but I sense the hurt and betrayal radiating from him. He thought they were meant to be.

  We travel down the stone staircase, careful not to trip in the darkness. A torch-illuminated tunnel glows faintly to show us our destination. We pick up our pace once we near the light and spill into a dungeon corridor.

  My eyes find Cami at once, a silent question if this was a mistake. But she nods, her expression calm. I rely on her premonition ability to sense if our trust in Jester is misplaced. His permanent smirk and frequent grins set me on edge.

  Jester leads us down the dungeon corridor to a stinky prison cell. On instinct, I pat down my body, searching for a weapon, before I remember I have none.

  Jester swings the rusted, barred door, unimpressed by the sound it makes, but I sense Cami’s sharp intake of breath. This must be torture for her.

  None of us follow the cold one into the cell, but he pays no attention to our waning trust in him. He presses an elaborate pattern on the tiles in silence. With a sucking noise, half the back wall pops out.

  On vampire strength alone, Jester pushes the edge sticking out, and it opens as a secret door. “Ta-da.”

  Cami is the first of us to step closer to him, wide-eyed. “Where does the tunnel lead?”

  I spread out an arm to hold her back. The tunnel is pitch black and unwelcoming. It’s anything but a promising escape path.

  Jester beams, his sharp teeth all on display. “It will lead you exactly where you need to go. Hop in, quick as a bunny.”

  I wish I had a knife to stab him through the throat. “What about the others? I’m not going anywhere without my sister.”

  Jester rolls his eyes and pushes me, so he can glide a hand down Cami’s back as he moves past her. He bites two fingers and whistles. The shrill sound echoes through the dungeon, making Cami squirm.

  A landslide of footsteps answers Jester’s call. Jean appears at the end of the corridor, Bryar, Seff, and Vanessa in tow. When they reach us, Bryar gives me a quick nod that she’s fine.

  But I’m still reluctant to enter a dark-as-night tunnel that could lead anywhere.

  “Don’t look so glum.” Jester makes a face at me. “I wouldn’t put my banshee into danger, now would I?” He glances at Cami with a wolfish expression.

  She tugs on my hand when I motion to step up to him. “Leave it. It doesn’t matter.” She clears her throat. “The tunnel will take us to Elmwick then?”

  “To Elmwick Academy,” Jester confirms, most civil when he addresses her. “Don’t look so shocked. That’s not even half of the outrageous secrets that place hides.” But his cavalier smile dissolves at once. “Enough chit-chat. You need to go. Oh, and...” He snickers, eyes beholding the sight of us with deranged entertainment. “There’s one more thing. I can’t let you keep the clothes. They’re pretty rare, you see.”

  We share shocked glances as the unsaid bit dawns on us.

  “But we don’t have our clothes! All our bags are upstairs.” Charity exclaims.

  Jester lifts his palms up, mimicking a scale. “Your clothes. Your lives. That is a tough choice.” Then, he’s done indulging us in the joke. “You strip or you die, charmer.”

  Vanessa steps closer to Jester, pure venom in her eyes. Playing with one of the black satin gloves on her hands, she pulls it down demonstratively and smacks it against his chest. “Pity. I was planning on wearing this for Halloween.”

  Reluctantly, we start undressing. The girls help each other out of the corsets and heavy skirts. They’re wearing thin slips underneath, which is a win for their modesty.

  Jester grins and winks at Cami, who shivers in her champagne-colored silk slip. “I’ll let you keep that. I’m a gentleman, after all.” He regards me and the guys without a trace of that sweetness. “I’ll need the shirts, too.”

  We pile the jackets and trousers, even the formal shoes we borrowed. With a few grunts, we take off the shirts as well. In nothing but our boxers, we feel underdressed next to the girls, and that’s sa
ying something.

  “Perfect,” Jester says.

  More than ever, I wish to punch him in his straight nose, but we’re almost out of here. Once we are, I hope I’ll never see his smug face again.

  Jester takes Cami by the hand and brushes a lingering kiss against the back of it. “I will see you soon for your part of our agreement, my banshee.”

  Cami’s ocean-blue eyes darken, stormier than ever, but she doesn’t answer. Jester lets go of her with a look that promises her there will be hell to pay if she’s played him. Then, he hands a torch to Awan and another to Jean, winking at her and whispering a quick goodbye.

  Like a pajama party gone wrong, we head down the murky corridor in our underwear.

  Chapter 15. Cami

  THE COLD HUMIDITY SEEPS into my bones as we walk down the creepy tunnel, only illuminated by the faint light of the two torches. Awan leads the way, setting a brisk pace to match his sullen mood. Mason and I follow as close as we dare without accidentally brushing against each other. In our current attire, any touch feels risky.

  Vanessa and Seff bicker behind us. Fillan walks quietly after them. Charity maintains some distance from him, as if it will undo their previous entanglement. And Bryar and Jean bring up the rear, chatting and letting out breathy laughs, unaware of the awkward vibe that hangs over the rest of the group.

  I lose track of how long we walk, barefoot in the dirt tunnel. We’ll be a sight for sore eyes once we get home.

  In the glum torchlight, shadows dance between us, but I sense Mason sneaking peeks at me, same as I do. Even in the faint light, his lean but sculpted upper body makes me bite a lip. Despite our current predicament vis-à-vis lack of clothes, I chance glances at his face, hunting for hints of what our moment on the balcony meant to him.

  But as he’s often been, Mason remains difficult for me to read, which is annoying considering that I’ve claimed my full powers now. Nothing should be able to escape my senses.

  He glances at me, making me recoil and fold my arms in front of my chest. My smile is impossible to hide, though. I can’t think straight. Surely, walking barefoot through this humid, frigid, murky, and downright filthy tunnel is the least romantic experience imaginable, but the memory of Mason’s lips on mine and his arms tight around me, leaving scorching trails down my back, makes my breath hitch.

  My heart booms with the thought of us together and the questions we must now answer in front of ourselves and each other. Was this a mishap or an indulgence that should have never happened? Or was it something more—our silent promise to defy the expectations our world has of us?

  Despite linking myself to Jean and Vanessa, I meant what I said during the dance with Mason. I do not intend to go on building the circle. There should be no reason for us to keep our distance. Not if we both want peace.

  AFTER WHAT HAS SURELY been hours and more blisters on my feet than I can stomach, Awan’s body shines bronze ahead of us. The protector leaps out and paces, sniffling the length of the wall.

  Seff pushes past Mason and wolfs out. His icy-blue eyes study the wall. The tunnel looks like a dead end, but I follow every flare of Seff’s nostrils.

  “Here,” he says. “There’s a faint airflow and the scent of Elmwick Academy.”

  Jean stomps over, handing the torch to Bryar. She jabs her fingers into the wall, at the place Seff pointed her to. Without so much as a grunt, she pulls the secret door open.

  We peek inside the room, past the narrow opening. I haven’t been here in months, not since my last training session with Jean, but I’d recognize the cold ones’ training room any time. We’re all the way at the bottom of it, right where Jean and I used to go for her stealth practice.

  The familiar sight pumps hope and determination into me. We’re here. We’re home. Alive. And we even recovered Jean.

  Whatever happens when we talk to Mrs. Gianni, I allow myself a moment to count this as a success.

  We file through the training grounds. Lucky for us, there’s a mat at the door to Elmwick Academy. We hurry to clean our filthy feet against it and exit the training room.

  The spicy scent of Elmwick Academy fills my nostrils the second we’re into the corridor. Trying not to think that we’ve brought two hunters into the depths of the Academy, I scurry after Awan and Jean.

  When we reach the front gate, Charity warns us to stay back. It’s the only sentence she’s said all throughout the walk in the tunnel. The charmer murmurs to herself and motions in cut, angular shapes with her hands.

  She presses down on the handle and waves us through. “Hurry, hurry. I’ve only lowered the charm for a minute.”

  She does the same at the wrought-iron gates. We follow her signal and slip out, leaving school grounds.

  Once we’re out on the streets of Elmwick, I grow even more self-conscious of our state of undress and our dirty feet. The others must be feeling it, too, because we all pick up our pace.

  Only Vanessa walks off to the side of the street, staring into the dark bushes.

  “What’s wrong?” I call after her, aware of Jean and Vanessa’s movements more than before. It must be the circle.

  Vanessa growls and returns to us with a sullen expression. “Ugh. Nothing. We need to hurry.”

  On our sleepy street, I feel too exposed now that the dawn breaks, turning the night sky above a shade lighter.

  Awan, who’s been uncharacteristically sullen since we escaped from Jester’s castle, is the first one to depart from our undressed procession. He murmurs a goodbye, which seems to be targeted at Mason alone, and darts to his house on the left-hand side of the street. He goes around the house, probably to a back-door entrance or to climb up the rose trellis.

  Charity traces him with her eyes, then seems to shudder, her arms wrapped around her body.

  “Score,” Fillan says, looking across the street to their house.

  The SUV is still missing from the driveway. It seems Seff and Fillan’s trip will stay a secret, so they won’t have to answer their parents’ grilling questions. Something I don’t take for granted.

  Fillan gives us a mock salute and heads to the house. My banshee senses pick up on a heavy sigh as soon as his back is to us. Perhaps he isn’t as nonchalant about Charity’s abrupt reaction to everyone finding out about them.

  Seff glances at me, a question in his eyes, but I hurry to shake my head. “I’m right next door. I’ll be fine.”

  “See you at Elmwick Academy,” he says and follows Fillan.

  I sense a faint hiss from the nearby bushes and turn. The viper slithers into Vanessa’s yard. It takes me a second to distinguish the silhouette of a man in their yard, half-hidden under the shade of the tall walnut tree. His eyes are milky for a second before they return to their dark color and flash in anger.

  When he stands up, Sal Rivera is a little shorter than I had expected, but I’m surprised he doesn’t seem to have aged much compared to his younger self in Mom’s painting. He still wears his shirt unbuttoned, and his fingers are covered in even more rings. Perhaps it’s the faint early morning light, but his hair doesn’t seem to be peppered with white either.

  “Vanessa Rivera!” he shouts at his daughter. “You get back here at once and explain yourself.”

  Vanessa inclines her head toward me with a sideways glance. “This should be fun. He’s been on our trail ssince Elmwick Academy.”

  I fumble for the right words. She and I haven’t spent nearly enough time together since the link spurted out between us. I almost don’t want her to leave.

  “Let’s talk at school.” I hope, as vague as it is, the statement can convey the new status quo between us.

  I won’t repeat the mistake I made with Jean and let distance pull us apart. The three of us are linked now. We’ll always be stronger together.

  “Now, Vanessa!” her father hisses from their yard.

  Vanessa blinks her heavy, black eyelashes at me. “Yes, ssee you then. If I’m alive.”

  She stomps over to her fathe
r. I have the feeling this isn’t the first bind she’s gotten herself into. Under her father’s loud reprimands, she scurries inside the house.

  When I look away, Charity has pulled open the wooden gate to their house. To our surprise, Rosy pops out of there with a red bandanna on her head to direct her frizzy mane backward. She snorts in laughter as she spots us.

  “This is awesome.” Her beetle-black eyes stay on her sister’s. “You’re so dead when grandma finds out about this.”

  Charity grabs her sister by the elbow and almost growls, “She’s not gonna, okay?”

  “The silence will cost you,” Rosy says with a mischievous grin. “You’ll have to do my chores for at least two weeks.”

  “Fine.” The word is nothing but a rumble in Charity’s throat. She lets her sister go with an exasperated sigh and brushes past her into their yard.

  “Three weeks,” Rosy tries to haggle. “I mean, unless you want me to tell Dad next time he calls?”

  Charity is done negotiating, but there’s sadness in her snappy retort. “Tell him or don’t tell him. It’s not like he cares.”

  I bite a lip, my eyes staying on their house until the sisters are out of sight.

  Early morning birds chirp from the trees in their yard, snapping me into action. As tiring as the hike through that tunnel was, the real test is yet to come.

  When Jean and I head to her house, Bryar and Mason follow us. It takes me a second to realize they each want a more private goodbye.

  Jean and I exchange a nod, and I leave her with Bryar by the gate to the Gianni’s house. Mason leads me away to the bushes edging the path between his house and Jean’s. I know we need to agree on what’s next, on what this night has meant to us both, but despite stewing in nerves over that all night, I find it difficult to speak when I glance up at him.

  Not to mention that in the morning light, it’s harder to ignore our lack of clothes.