Page 3 of These Unhallowed Halls (Equinox Seasons Duet #2)

Two-Into The Night & Into The Grove

Temps

L ooming on the edge of the water just outside of Rockport was an intimidating building up on a hill.

Thick trees surrounded it on the three sides that didn’t face the ocean, and it stretched up into the sky like something out of a horror movie.

I could see Dracula himself walking out of those imposing double doors at the front, and the building didn’t lack for Gothic architecture.

Steeples aplenty topped each turret-like tower, and there was a large bridge that connected the grounds to the road we were on.

“Jesus, it’s like going to fucking Hogwarts. Minus the transphobia, I hope.” Lizzie pulled the car through the exterior gate that led into the school, and I had to agree with her.

The place was exactly what you’d imagine an academy for witches and magical practitioners to be like.

However, it was more somber than I would have thought.

The sky here looked like it was going to rain at any moment, the sun barely getting through the clouds, and the fall leaves were left to pile up along the sides of the slim road.

A heavy weight in the air settled over me, and as we pulled up to the parking area just before another gate, it was far from what you’d call modern. Still, that held a certain charm. Stepping onto school grounds felt like stepping back in time and across the ocean.

A veritable Victorian England theme park.

“Temps, if I have to walk on fucking cobblestones, you’re buying me new shoes.”

Laughing, I rolled my eyes, starting for the trunk of the car to get my stuff. “We’ve been to Salem a million times because we’re so close, and you’ve never complained then.”

Lizzie responded with something, but I was so distracted by the sights around me to hear more than the tone of her classic sarcasm.

The school was gorgeous, and through the gate ahead, I could see a set of stairs that led up into a mist that appeared to be perpetually hugging the ground.

It smelled like wet leaves and fresh earth, and if I peered through the parking lot toward the back of the academy, I could make out an ancient graveyard.

This was exactly the kind of vibe I was looking for. I was ecstatic, picturing all the long dark hallways and enormous libraries filled with more books than I could conceivably read in a single lifetime. Though I’d try.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Lizzie was up in my face then, and I yanked myself back, my butt hitting the trunk of the car. “Sorry. I was thinking about what’s inside. I’m just—”

“Let me guess. You’re thrilled because this is something out of a dark academia wet dream?

Yeah, I figured.” Lizzie turned over her shoulder, glancing up at the massive structure where we were headed.

“I’ll hand it to you. A witch school right outside of Salem that’s this in love with Gothic architecture is pretty damn cool.

I just hope they don’t have some dumb no-alcohol policy. ”

“We do not, in fact, Ms. Chamberlain. Though that applies to functions outside of class, not during.”

Both of us jumped slightly at the sound of a new voice. When I peeked around Lizzie, an older woman, probably in her forties, stood with her back to the gate just a few steps from us. I definitely didn’t hear her approach, and I had a feeling she hadn’t walked up to us.

“And you are?”

Ugh, leave it to Liz to be less than subtle.

Chuckling, the woman stepped forward, extending her hand.

She was poised, effortlessly graceful, and I was captivated by her yellow eyes, which bore a striking resemblance to those of a hawk.

Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled up into a severe bun, and she wore a tweed suit in dark charcoal with a purple silk button-down beneath her slimming jacket—peak English professor vibes.

“I’m Professor Owens, dean of Night Grove Academy. I’m here to escort you both to your room.”

Did she say room? As in one? A singular room. That I have to share with Lizzie. Lizzie .

“Umm, I’m sorry, did I hear you correctly?

Are we rooming together?” My heart beat furiously against my ribs, ready to break the damn bones so that it could get the hell out of here, and I was nearly about to help the thing out.

Being dead seemed less problematic than rooming with my too-stunning stepsister.

Looking over at Lizzie, she just smiled, and it was way too knowing for my liking. Which, of course, could mean only one thing. She’d done this. Goddamn it.

“Yes, of course. Your request to room together was honored immediately. I assumed that Ms. Chamberlain had told you.”

I rolled my lips between my teeth, trying to steady my breathing as I considered the fact that I was going to be spending a lot more time with my stepsister, and this time, I didn’t have the constant vigilance of my mother to rely on when it came to Lizzie's behaving. Any time we were alone, she teased me, pushed buttons that she really shouldn’t have, and that was with the potential to get caught.

Without it, I didn’t know what she would do.

Or if I’d be able to keep myself from following suit.

“Eh, must’ve slipped my mind.” Lizzie looped her arm through mine, pulling me forward. “But this’ll be great. I could never have my sweet Temps too far away. I’d miss her way too much.”

On the surface, that sounded sweet as pie, but I could hear sin snaking around in the background.

“Oh, I can see how close you two are. That’s delightful. Oh,” Dean Owens crossed the uneven drive into the school with ease despite her four-inch stilettos, waving a hand at our suitcases, “don’t worry over those.”

The bag disappeared in a whoosh, and even though I knew that kind of thing was going to be happening on the regular here, I was still taken aback.

Magic wasn’t used in the world at large.

They still didn’t know it was a thing at all, aside from the handful of witches and creatures that hid in the shadows.

Lizzie beamed, chuckling under her breath and pulling me closer.

“Amazing. You so have to teach me that.”

Dean Owens smiled back, gesturing toward the gate. Now, we had only our backpacks, and as we stepped up to the intricately detailed wrought iron, with motifs of leaves and bats depicted in the metal, it swung open for us.

“Well, that will be on your spellcasting professor, and we actually have a brand new professor this year. Or I suppose I should say a returning professor. Professor Harkert taught at Night Grove previously, focusing on alchemy.” My ears perked up, hearing the word that could set me into a delighted ramble if allowed.

“But he has joined us to fill the absent spellcasting position at the last minute.”

“Why’d he need to step in so last-minute?” Lizzie walked a bit ahead of me now as I trailed back near the dean. “The previous one die?”

Stiffening, Dean Owens cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact…But let’s not dwell on such sadness. Professor Harkert is renowned for his abilities, and I’m certain he will do an incredible job. He’ll be sure to cover the basics of presidigitation and telekinesis as well.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lizzie turned over her shoulder with a flashing grin. “Where we headed, teach?”

Christ. Can she not be chill for even thirty seconds?

“It’s Professor, and we are proceeding to the left up the stairs. You’ll be boarding in the south wing of Foxglove Hall.”

Conversation died as the three of us walked up the steps I’d noticed.

Inside the gate, it was like walking into a new town.

Everything was exactly how it would be if we were back in the early days of America, complete with the cobblestones Lizzie had been worried about.

I wasn’t going to hear the end of that one.

The various wings and buildings of the Night Grove campus stretched up and around us, the stone pathways connecting the sections like a spider's web.

I could see stained glass in nearly every window that faced us, and the bricks used to assemble these formidable, foreboding structures were dark, with vibrant green ivy crawling over them.

Pumpkins and autumn decorations already poked out from doorways and windows, too.

Mabon celebration was clearly in full swing.

Tonight was the fall equinox, after all. If the campus were anything like Rockford or Salem, Halloween would be celebrated immediately after and all the way through until the end of November break.

Witches do love us some spook season, after all.

“We’d love to see you both down at the Midnight Mabon bonfire once you’re both settled. It’s customary to begin the semester on the eve of the fall equinox to harness all the magic it possesses, and as you’ve likely noticed, Samhain is a fairly big deal around here.”

Lizzie and I both chuckled at that one, and I nodded up at the dean, who stood so much taller than I did in those heels, though I had a feeling she’d still tower over me even out of them.

Lizzie was at least around my height, just an inch or so taller.

However, that did put her lips level with mine when we stood too close.

Stop. You can’t think like that, Temps.

“Count us in,” Lizzie replied, happily skipping up the stairs.

A dark midnight bonfire with my stepsister. Sure, what could go wrong? Ugh.