Page 51

Clearing my thoughts, I peer around the room before my gaze flicks up to take another glance at the balcony.

The angle looks different from here, the view much clearer, and my throat constricts when my gaze snaps to the man I’m sure I’ve seen in a memory, but doubt settles heavily in my stomach again.

I’m delusional. I have to be. Because in my memory, he was my father, and the one thing Florentine’s was always clear on was the fact that my parents were dead. Right?

Glancing at Bryony, I clear my throat. “Who is that?” I ask, and she follows my line of sight, her eyebrows furrowing as she sees who I’m referring to.

“That’s The Keeper Of the Games,” she explains, and I shake my head, remembering that Blaze had told me the same thing last week.

Rubbing my lips together nervously, I turn away from the balcony and look directly at my friend instead. “What does it mean that he’s here?”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Why?”

There’s a slight crinkling at the corners of her eyes, one that leaves me a little uneasy as the aura around her shifts slightly, but I attribute it to the impending news we’re about to receive.

“Because I have a vivid memory of him, and we both know I don't have vivid memories of very much,” I state, and her gaze darts to the balcony, confusion darkening her stare.

Her lips part, but whatever she is about to say is cut off as Professor Whitmore claps his hands, drawing everyone's attention to the center of the room.

“Good morning, students of Trinity Falls Academy. Thank you for gathering before classes today as we embark on the blood kin journey with twelve more students.” His smile is wide, stretching from ear to ear as he adjusts the lapels of his stone-colored blazer.

He feels too bright and cheery to be on the brink of telling me my fate, and I don’t like it. Bryony’s hand tightens around mine and I squeeze back just as hard as Whitmore proceeds.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we, so we can all enjoy some breakfast?” My stomach clenches, fear getting the better of me as I consider the fact that I might not make it to breakfast. Despite Lincoln’s words, I can’t control the actions of my blood kin, only myself.

Breakfast may be a gift at this stage.

“Lincoln James, Minnie James, Bianca Diamond, Sian Tillman, Blaze Williams, Benjamin Nichol, Destiny Chambers, Letti Gold, Dylan Daniels, Foster Graham, Bryony Tanner, and Polaris Beauchamp. Please, join me.”

As each name is called, the person stands, and when it’s mine that parts Professor Whitmore’s lips, I find myself on my feet; not by choice, but by magic.

The power in the room is palpable; especially as it helps me follow Whitmore’s order. We all move in sync, my heart racing wildly in my chest as I advance to the center of the room with a good portion of my friends, my coven.

With every step I take, I can’t help but remember the last time I was here.

The carnage.

The despair.

The blood.

Krystal.

My heart rate spikes.

Krystal.

My chest tightens until I’m certain my ribcage will collapse.

How is it that I know her, well, her corpse, but she doesn’t remember me?

How could I have felt the dead weight of her body above me, yet the woman I’ve encountered since believes she awakened from a coma with no family and a special coin?

It doesn't add up.

How does that even happen?

I stumble to a stop in the center of the room, but my gaze darts back to where I was seated the last time we were here. Another fresh memory of the weight of Krystal’s lifeless body pinning me to the floor washes over me.

To die here, then wake up in a coma in the same time frame… it doesn't make sense.

It just doesn't.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you. Once again, I'm sure you recall the changes we've made going forward, but we shall begin by initiating the spell one person at a time. This will allow us to unlock the curse in a more structured manner. Unlocking one person’s curse will then unlock the curse of their blood kin among the other members of this group. One by one, each pair of blood kin will be declared.”

I gulp as fear takes root in my spine, a memory flooding my mind. One of Blaze concealing my fear and panic with compulsion, just as I asked, until this very moment. It rushes back at me like a freight train and I sway on my feet as Whitmore claps his hands together once again.

“Let’s begin with Blaze Williams.”

My heart lurches as my vampire steps forward, unfazed as he moves from the line we’ve created to stand alone in front of everyone. My pulse thunders in my ears as my concealed emotions take hold of me. I’m definitely feeling the shift back to my reality. I feel like I’m choking on my fear.

Whispered chants seem to echo around the room, but I can’t piece together a single word of them. The voices are so soft and melodic, like the setting for a whimsical day straight from a fairy tale, even though our surroundings are far from it.

Blaze grunts, a snarl ricocheting around the room as he tears at his sleeve, raising it to reveal his forearm where a mark now glows against his skin. Three stars now occupy the entire inner part of his forearm, each one larger than the last.

A screech comes from down the line, tearing my gaze away from Blaze. Bianca stumbles forward a step, her arm raised in horror as the same marking emerges against her skin.

Holy crap.

Blaze’s blood kin is Bianca.

Panic tightens in my chest as I glance between the pair of them. Horror twists Bianca’s features while Blaze sneers at her. His gaze snaps to mine for the briefest moment before refocusing on Bianca. When he does, I can’t help but sense a darker aura around him, the deepest of reds.

“With fucking pleasure,” he growls, racing toward Bianca without a second thought.

He moves so fast, too fast. Everything happens so quickly that I can’t process it.

All I can hear is the snapping of a spine and a hollow cry as Bianca’s body falls limp to the floor.

The world moves in slow motion as Blaze drops to his knees beside her, ignoring her corpse while he peers down at his arm.

I gape in disbelief as the stars vanish just as quickly as they arrived.

She’s dead.

Bianca is dead.

At the hands of Blaze.

There’s no time to truly digest the unfolding events of what feels like the past five seconds, as Professor Whitmore’s voice booms around the room.

“Benjamin Nichol.”

My gaze is torn away from the disaster to my left and snaps back to where Ben stands in the center of the room.

I hadn’t even given myself a moment to realize he’s here, but it doesn’t matter now.

Not when he stands in the center of the space, all color drained from his face as he peers down at his arm, waiting for his fate to be revealed.

A single diamond-shaped symbol glows against his skin, and another screech ripples through the room. This time, the sound comes from the right, and I turn in disbelief to find that Ben's blood kin has been revealed.

Sian.

Gulping, I peer back at Ben to see the despair on his face, and unshed tears brim in my eyes as my heart aches for him.

I’ve come to learn the true person Sian is, but he doesn’t seem to care.

Following his line of sight, I find Sian standing with her hands coiled into fists and a snarl burning her lips as she prepares to charge toward him.

My heart lurches as despair claims me, but just before she reaches Ben, who remains frozen in place, gaping at her, Blaze intercepts her, pushing her back a step before she can get her hands on him. With Sian in his grasp, Blaze glances over his shoulder at Ben.

“Run.”

His order is firm, ringing through the air, but Ben shakes his head.

“I can’t. I can't run from her,” he whispers, sadness clinging to every inch of his body.

He's gray, gaze zeroed in on Sian, who continues to sneer and push against Blaze in a bid to get ahold of Ben. It’s clear for everyone to see what her intentions are.

Everyone but Ben. “I love you, Sian. I love what we were, and I love that we forever shall be blood kins,” he breathes, slipping his hand into his pocket.

He pulls it out with a flash of silver in his grasp. Before I can acknowledge what it is, he slams it against his chest, dropping to his knees as blood pours down his t-shirt.

I cry out in disbelief, pain clogging my throat as Blaze shoves Sian away, dropping to his knees to tend to Ben, but it's too late.

The lack of a symbol on his arm confirms it.

He's dead. He died for her.

My eyes narrow on the woman in question, watching as her lips set into a thin line as she stares down at him. Without a word, not a single one, she storms from the room.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Polaris Beauchamp.”

I'm not ready to face what comes next after seeing that.

Blaze is ushered aside as the magic in the room draws me to the center. I find myself stopping right beside Ben. I shouldn’t look down, but I can’t help it.

Silver protrudes from his chest and my heart aches. I gulp, embracing the whispers as a tingling sensation travels down my arm. I watch in fear as a symbol materializes. A vine stretches from wrist to elbow with leaves etched into my skin, glowing with an intensity I didn’t expect.

It would be pretty if the circumstances were any different.

“No,” the cry snaps my gaze toward the remaining students. My eyes find the glow before they shift up and lock on my blood kin.

Minnie.

I sink to my knees, my palm resting on Ben’s lifeless chest as I gaze in horror at my friend. My blood kin.

Tears stream down her face as she moves toward me slowly.

Lincoln’s words play on repeat in my mind, reminding me we have time to figure this out.

But this is different.

She is different.

All my life, the parts that I can remember, I’ve been content as a loner. Building wall after wall around me so I don’t get hurt, so I don’t feel any more pain than I already have.

Then came Minnie.

Minnie, who stuck up for me with her brother.

Minnie, who encouraged me to be the best version of myself.

Minnie, who showed me joy, happiness, and a freaking theme park.

Minnie, who just wanted to be my friend too.

My finger nips against a sharp edge, pulling my gaze away from Minnie’s as I glance down at the blade protruding from Ben’s chest.

All at once. Everything makes sense, but I have to move fast.

“Polaris,” Minnie whispers, tears spilling down her cheeks as she lowers to her knees in front of me.

My heart pounds wilder than it ever has before. “Do you trust me?”

“Polaris?” She calls my name again, but this time it’s a question laced with confusion.

I shake my head. “Do you trust me?”

Her eyebrows gather as she nods. “Of course, but why?—”

That’s all I need to hear.

Curling my hand around the handle of the blade, I tear it from Ben’s body as I keep my gaze focused on hers. “I love you, Minnie.”

“Polaris, no!” Her eyes widen, horror clouding her vision, but I smile, content.

“Come find me,” I breathe, bracing myself as I aim the crimson-painted blade toward my chest and strike.