Page 26 of Wicked Bonds (Serpentine Academy #1)
Twenty-Four
Drake
I forget myself sometimes.
The thing about being dead is that you lose track.
You drift, you wait, you watch the world turn, the seasons change, the people come and go, year after year.
But now and then, you find yourself standing somewhere you don’t remember going, with no idea how long you’ve been there, and nothing to mark the time except the way the dust has settled on the windowsills.
The fourth floor is off limits to living students. If you ask the staff why it’s forbidden, they’ll tell you it’s about safety or regulations. But the real reason is that the fourth floor is haunted. And not just by me.
I’m in the west corridor. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. How long I’ve been gone.
Then there are footsteps, light, hurried.
I don’t need to look up to know it’s her.
I can feel her approaching in the same way I imagine other people feel migraines coming on that are impossible to ignore.
Rose walks with her chin up and her hands shoved in her jacket pockets like the world owes her an apology.
I don’t know about the world, but everyone here certainly does, including me.
She rounds the corner, stops dead when she sees me.
“There you are,” she says.
“In the flesh,” I joke. The fourth floor isn’t heated and I can see her breath come out in little puffs.
“I’ve been looking for you.” She twists her head to glance over her shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?”
I turn to face her fully, not bothering to make my form more solid. “Time doesn’t work the same for me,” I say. “Sometimes I lose bits.”
“So you weren’t ghosting me.” She snickers. “Ba dum dum.”
“Not just a witch, ladies and gentlemen, this one’s a stand-up comedian too.” I might have been born before World War I but I pick up on the slang each new generation uses. Least favorite era? The eighties. It’s been four decades since I’ve had to hear the word ‘grody’, thank God.
She leans against the wall, arms crossed. “You said you’d tell me more. About the Accord. About what happened to you.”
“You’re upset.”
“I had a magical meltdown. In front of everyone. With a haunted water feature. Lucien showed up, Soren showed up, and I’m pretty sure the Headmistress was watching from her creepy tower window.”
I nod. “You’re getting stronger.”
“I don’t want to be strong. I want to be safe. It feels like they’re waiting for my magic to fully manifest so they can drain it, and me. Ever read Hansel and Gretel? Training me to bring my magic out is like stuffing me with candy to fatten me up.”
I don’t answer right away. I want to tell her everything. I want to unload the centuries of regret and rot and longing. But if I do, I’ll lose her. And I can’t lose her. Not when she’s the only one who can help me.
But I have to tell her something. She’s looking for answers and Rose Smith is nothing if not tenacious. She won’t stop digging, and she’ll find out anyway. I’m surprised the vampire hasn’t spilled the beans. “I used to know a witch from your bloodline.”
She straightens. “Really?”
“She wasn’t as powerful as you. Or as smart.” I watch her process that.
“What happened?”
“We were friends. And then we weren’t.”
Rose makes a face. “Why?”
“People change. Things change.”
She paces now, chewing on her thumbnail. I like the nervous energy. It makes her more alive, more beautiful. “Tell me the truth, Drake. I’m tired of the vampire’s half-answers and the demon’s mind games. I want to know what you found out. What you were trying to do before you died.”
I could lie. I could say nothing. But I want her to trust me. Even if it’s only for another hour. “You want to know how to break the Accord?”
She stops pacing and looks at me. Really looks at me. “Yes.”
I lean back against the wall, folding my arms. “You have to find the original blood oath. The first one. Not the copy under lock and key in the archives. The real one.”
“How, in the ever-loving fuck, do I do that?”
“That’s the trick, isn’t it?”
She groans. “Not helpful. I can barely control my own magic. How am I supposed to find some centuries-old blood contract? Where would I look? How does a person even start with something like that?”
We sit like that for a while, not saying anything, just being near each other.
“You still haven’t told me about the witch you knew,” she says finally.
I close my eyes and try to remember the girl’s face. It’s faded, like all old memories. I remember the day she died, and the way the sky turned dark in the middle of the day. “Her name was Isabell. She wanted to break the Accord, too. But not for herself.”
Rose waits.
“She’s gone now.”
“Was it for you? She wanted to break the contract to save you?” Her voice is quiet.
I nod, but I don’t say any more.
She opens her eyes. “If I find the real blood oath, and I break it, what happens to you?”
It’s a question I didn’t expect, and it lands with a force that almost knocks me over. “I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe I finally get to leave. Maybe I just… disappear.”
She studies me. “Is that what you want?”
“I thought I did.” I look down at my hands, which don’t quite match up with the rest of the world. “It’s better than this,” I say. “Most days.”
She sighs. “You’re a real downer, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
She scoots closer. “Promise me you won’t disappear for so long again,” she says.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to do this alone.”
I nod, and the words come out before I can stop them. “I promise.”
She looks at me for a long time, as if searching for the place where I’m still real.
I sit beside her, not caring if she can see the floor through my legs.
“We’re a mess,” she says.
“We are,” I agree.
She leans her head on my shoulder, and even though I don’t have nerves or blood or flesh, I can feel her there, warm and solid and alive.
For the first time in a hundred years, I think I might be, too.
We stay like that for a long time. I know she’s getting tired, and eventually her head slumps and her breath evens out.
I stay with her, watching her dream. Making sure that I don’t drift away.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell her more.
Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to be better.