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  Bile rose up in my throat and I almost had to throw up.

  I couldn’t help it; I dug my fingers into Christian’s arm.

  The demon glanced down at my hand but didn’t say anything.

  “Sorry,” Tristan said. “Everyone thinks this is scary the first time around. Imagine my face when I brought our pet rat back from the dead at age six. Imagine my sister’s face when it crawled into her bed, still smelling of three-day-old rot.” He scratched his head, and while he seemed apologetic, his abilities were completely and utterly terrifying.

  The Alfred corpse jerked left and right, but eventually managed to turn around. “It always takes them a while to start moving correctly,” Tristan explained. “Besides, I didn’t put much mana into him since he only needs to last a few minutes anyway.”

  “Mana is life force,” Alec said, who was standing on my right side while Christian was on my left. “When necromancers raise corpses, they put some mana into them to give them the ability to move.”

  I nodded, and then glanced at my hand still locked around Christian’s arm. I sensed his muscles underneath his shirt. God, he looked amazing. If only he wasn’t the spawn of Satan.

  “Sorry,” I apologized as I let go of him.

  “Enough chitchatting.” Damian clapped his hands. “We don’t have all day.”

  “All right, all right.” Alec snapped his fingers, and I practically jumped out of my skin. I hadn’t realized how silent it had been the entire time while everyone else in the diner was frozen to the spot. Now, with the half a dozen customers suddenly chatting to one another again, the noise startled me.

  “Bye, Alfred.” Alec patted the corpse on its shoulder while we walked past.

  “I’m so sorry, Alfred,” I said before following the others. Even if Alfred had been a horrible boss, I felt sorry for what they had done to him.

  Could it really be true that I belonged with them? That I was destined to go to this Academy? I had never killed someone; I couldn’t even hurt a fly. Seeing animals in pain broke my heart, and when my pet goldfish died, I had bawled my eyes out. Was I really capable of being evil?

  I contemplated this while the six of us left Joe’s Diner. When Tristan, the last one of us to leave the diner, closed the door behind us, I had the uncanny feeling this would be the last time I ever set foot inside the place.

  Seconds later, as we passed by the window, Alfred’s corpse collapsed on the floor, a woman screamed, a man yelled for someone to call 911 and I realized that unfortunately, none of this was a dream—it was a nightmare turned reality.

  Chapter Six

  The Testing Huse loomed at the end of the row of townhouses, barely three blocks away from my house. It was completely surrounded by fences decorated with signs saying, “keep out” and “not safe”.

  Christian pushed aside one of the fences and we all entered the premises, disregarding the “forbidden to enter” sign. On the grand list of crimes committed by the students of the Academy, this probably didn’t even rank top-10, but for me it was the first time I’d even committed a minor offense—not counting the one time Cassie and I had stolen a liquor bottle from my mother’s cabinet while we were still underage.

  “So, uhm, once we’re inside… What do I need to do?” I asked, feeling nervous.

  “You find your way to the last room in the Testing House. It’s pretty straightforward,” Alec explained. “The house will test your strengths and weaknesses and deem you worthy for entering the Academy.”

  “Or not,” Damian said.

  “Ignore Mr. Doom and Gloom.” Alec smiled at me, flashing his white teeth fit for a toothpaste commercial. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. For someone completely new to all this, you’re handling things pretty well.”

  We climbed over patches of grass and bushes of the unkept front garden while trying to make it to the Testing House. From up close, I could make out some of the details. It was a Victorian townhouse that looked like it had been abandoned for over a century. The windows were smashed and then boarded up; broken glass was laying all around. The front door looked relatively sturdy, but the rest of the red brick construction appeared like it could come crashing down any moment.

  I always hated haunted houses on fairs; they were my least favorite attraction. Walking into an actual abandoned, potentially terrifying house which was designed as a “test” for me to be able to enter an academy of evil, was ten times as horrifying as that.

  “We’ll all enter the front room,” Alec said, “because standing out here, we would draw too much attention to ourselves. But once you’ve crossed the first door inside the house, yo’ure on your own. Then, it’s all up to you.”

  “Can you drop some hints about this ‘test’? Is it like math?” I secretly hoped it was; math, languages, that I could cope with. Anything even remotely to do with things that go bump in the night, not so much.

  Christian threw his head back and laughed out loud. “Is it like math? By Satan, you’re hilarious. No, love, it’s nothing like math. Nothing at all.”

  I gulped, trying hard to keep my cool, but I was terrified.

  Tristan took the lead crossing the rest of the frontyard. He reached the house first and conjured up a key from his pocket.

  My heart beat so fast I was afraid it would jump out of my chest any second. You can do this, Dev, I told myself, but even my inner voice didn’t sound very convinced. You can do this.

  Tristan put the key in the lock, but before he could even turn it, the door opened from the other side, revealing a guy potentially even more gorgeous than all of the others.

  Was it a requirement to look exceptionally stunning before being accepted into the Academy, at least if you were a guy? Or were extraordinarily good looks just one of the perks of being wicked?

  This new guy had red, spiked hair that made him look like a fantasy character from one of those computer games my cousin liked to play, Final Fantasy or whatever it was called. He had piercing green eyes, a Romanesque nose, and full lips that looked like they were created simply for the purpose of kissing them.

  I blinked, trying to keep these thoughts from flashing in my mind. I had to focus on the test, on making it out of this house alive, and not waste my time thinking about kissing…

  “You’re late,” the man said, interrupting my daydream. “I’ve been waiting for ages.”

  Chapter Seven

  The others knew him, of course.

  “Ronan,” Christian barked by way of greeting, before he shoved the man out of the way and entered the house. “You couldn’t be bothered to show up at the spot we’d agreed to meet?”

  While they talked, I followed Christian inside the house and took in my surroundings. The front room was old-fashioned, the floor covered in stained carpet, cobwebs lining up against the walls. By all appearances, it looked like no one had been in here in years. At the end of the room was a single wooden door engraved with numerous symbols.

  Ronan ignored Christian’s comment and instead focused on me. His smile had all the charm of a tiger ready to pounce its prey, and his eyes sparkled with mischievous delight. “Miss Devina.”

  Before I could stop him, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, like a prince when meeting a princess. “What a pleasure to meet you. I’m curious about you… And I don’t get curious often.” He smirked, which somehow made him look even more attractive.

  Don’t drool all over him, Dev. You’re here for a reason. Think about the test.

  Still, I seemed like a lovestruck twelve-year-old while I stared at Ronan, at his hand holding mine.

  Damian cleared his throat from behind me. “Are you going to keep standing there, blocking the entrance for the rest of us?”

  “Oh, sorry,” I blushed, moving aside. Ronan still hadn’t let go of my hand; slightly reluctantly, I pulled my hand away. His touch had been electric, like static racing over my skin, and I missed his touch the moment he let go.

  “Is she one of yours?” Alec asked while he e
ntered the house, again talking about me as if I wasn’t there.

  One of his. That was what they had meant back at Joe’s Diner. Whoever Ronan was, he represented the last group of species present in the Academy; the last group of the wicked.

  But what was he? And more importantly, was I like him?

  “Hmm.” The way Ronan said the word, it seemed like a melody from a song, a caress of the wind. What was it about this guy that put all my senses on edge?

  All the guys I’d met today were extraordinarily attractive, but none of them had the same effect on me as Ronan had. I wanted to grab his shirt with both hands, pull him closer and—”

  “Stop mesmerizing her.” Cassie moved in front of me and blocked my view. “I know you’re doing it.”

  “I’m not.” Ronan did his best to sound affronted, but the smirk on his lips gave him away. “Okay, so maybe a little. But I can’t help it.” He moved to the side, back into my view, and then strode closer toward me.

  He grasped a strand of my hair, and let it slip through his fingers. “I had no idea our newest recruit would be so gorgeous.”

  Gorgeous. He thought I was gorgeous.

  My heart rate equaled the speed of a freight train, and this time it wasn’t because of any impending tests.

  “Enough.” Cassie moved in front of me again. “Not now, Ronan.”

  “Fine.” Ronan shrugged. “Not now, but later.” He winked at me, and part of me hoped that was a promise he would keep.

  You’re ridiculous, Dev. You’re like a freaking lovesick puppy!

  “So, is she one of you? A Mesmer?” Christian stared darkly at Ronan, clearly not amused by the latter’s presence.

  Ronan pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. She’s not in any of your houses?”

  “No,” Christian replied, and he almost sounded sad that I wasn’t.

  “Hm… Tell me, Devina.” Ronan’s tone made me turn and look at him, gaze into his eyes. “Have you ever been able to make someone do what you want them to—even if they didn’t seem inclined to do it at first?”

  “Uhm… I don’t know?” I racked my brain trying to think about it, but I couldn’t find any examples of that. “Maybe?”

  “Are you good at manipulating people into doing what you want them to do?”

  “She’s not.” Cassie sighed. “She’s horrible at it. She’s not manipulative at all.” She gave me a faint smile, as if she was proud of me. “So, I sincerely doubt she’s like you.”

  There was silence for a few seconds as all of them looked at each other, unsure of what to say next.

  It was Damian who eventually spoke, disrupting the silence. “If you’re not like any of us, and you’re not a Mesmer like Ronan, then what the hell are you?”

  Chapter Eight

  I didn’t even know how to begin to answer that question, but a clock chiming from inside the belly of the house saved me from having to conjure up a reply.

  “It’s time.” Alec gestured at the door at the end of the room. “Good luck.”

  They all looked at me expectantly. I glanced over my shoulder, at the door leading to the outside world. A world that had, up till today, been devoid of creatures capable of freezing an entire room simply by snapping their fingers. Sirens, vampires, they were the stuff of imagination, not suited for everyday reality.

  I could try to make a run for it, but most, if not all, of the people in the room could easily overpower me and stop me.

  No, I had no choice but to face whatever was waiting for me on the other end of that symbol-engraved door.

  Straightening my back, lifting my chin and taking a deep breath, I walked toward the door. One step. Two steps. Three steps.

  Cassie grasped my arm when I passed by her. “Devina. Before you go…” She looked at me with tears glistening in her eyes. “I want to tell you that I’m sorry. If they would’ve allowed me to tell you, I would have. You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you.” She grabbed my hands and squeezed them. “You’re my best friend, Dev. You’re my sister. Whatever happens in there, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. Remember that. You’re strong.”

  She seemed sincerely sorry. I wanted to tell her that I forgave her, but I just wasn’t ready yet. I hadn’t expected she would be capable of hiding an entire part of herself from me. And even though I understood that she wasn’t allowed to tell, I still needed some time.

  “I love you,” I said, giving her a quick hug.

  Cassie hugged me back fiercely, showing she understood that no matter what happened between us, I loved her, and I trusted her with my life. Even if I wasn’t happy with her now, those things never changed.

  I let go of Cassie and walked further toward the door.

  Toward my destiny.

  Cassie is right, I tried to tell myself. You’re stronger than you think. If this house is a nightmarish hell house, then so what? You’ve survived nightmares for years. The red room, the throne of body parts, you’re used to that. What can this house throw at you that could possibly be worse?

  So, with a deep breath, I pushed open the symbol-covered door and entered the bowels of the house, embracing the nightmare.

  Chapter Nine

  The hallway stretched out in front of me and seemed to go on forever, a gaping, black hole leading me into the abyss. Victorian-style wallpaper embellished the walls on both sides of me, and also ran across the ceiling, a misshaped flower pattern that made me dizzy. The burgundy red carpet was covered in centuries of dust. Old-fashioned light fixtures decorated the walls, illuminating the path in front of me.

  One door on each side marked the path, and I swallowed hard. This looked exactly like those haunted house rides that I hated. One of the doors would pop open and a monster would appear—except this time, it would be a real monster, and not a plastic one controlled by a computer.

  I took a few hesitant steps. Scared or not, I had to go through with this, find whatever courage I had, and make the best of it.

  If the doors had no purpose, then they wouldn’t be in here. They were clearly incorporated in the hallway for a reason.

  Still, I was relieved when the first door didn’t burst open, revealing a ghoul or a ghost, or something else that would give me a heart attack. Instead, the door stayed shut until I turned the doorknob and opened it.

  Behind it was a gallery filled with paintings. In the eerie, dark-yellow glow of the Victorian lights, each of the paintings looked terribly creepy. On the wall opposite the door hung a large, ancient banner with the words “A shimmer of destiny” embroidered upon it in flowery handwriting.

  Balling my hands into fists and trying to control the fear coursing through me, I looked at the paintings in more detail, starting with the one closest to the exit.

  The first was a small painting of a familiar scene. My mother and I, eating pizza in front of the TV and watching romcoms. It was our favorite quality-time activity, and we always laughed out loud when one of the characters acted in an over-the-top way, which happened just about once every five minutes. Mom used to say romance was so cliché, and I always agreed, partly because I felt sorry for her considering the way my father had treated her. She hadn’t dated anyone since; she wasn’t even interested in finding love, as far as I knew.

  The painting made me miss her. I hoped she was okay, especially after what had happened this morning.

  I moved on from this painting to the next. This scene depicted Cassie and I at Joe’s Diner, devouring hamburgers and French fries. Cassie was blessed with a phenomenal metabolism—maybe courtesy to her being a siren—which allowed her to eat whatever she wanted to without gaining an ounce of fat, a quality I certainly envied her for. We were both smiling in the portrait, looking happy.

  The next painting, I recognized the moment I noticed its color. I almost turned around right there and then, fleeing from the room, but Cassie’s words resonated in my mind. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

  So, I stood my ground and fac
ed the painting of the red room, with its blood-soaked walls and its throne of flesh and body parts. Whatever magic had created this portrait gallery, it had pulled these pictures from my mind. They were memories, flashes of my life up till now, and whether I liked it or not, the nightmares were part of my life too. They had always been, for as long as I could remember.

  I quickly moved on from the red room to the next painting, a bigger one this time. It showed me, Cassie and the guys standing in an enormous, medieval-style ballroom with two-story high ceilings and stained-glass windows. Was this the Academy? It looked enormous.

  Okay, so far so good. If this was a shimmer of destiny, then it wasn’t all bad.

  I moved on to the next canvas, which showed Alec and I sitting in some kind of library, studying together. So, maybe that meant I was a warlock like him? Or a witch, to use the term for the female equivalent. That I hadn’t manifested any powers yet, perhaps didn’t mean I necessarily didn’t have any. I studied the painting in more detail. Alex was touching the tip of my nose, and I was laughing, and we seemed to be having a good time.

  Book closets were lined up against the back wall, which was partially covered by a shadow. I couldn’t really make out what in the painting was casting this shadow, but I wasn’t bothered much by it. The most important thing was that I seemed to be enjoying myself.

  Enjoying myself at an Academy for the Wicked… I would’ve never thought it possible.

  In the next composition, I was sitting in a classroom next to Christian. He was showing me something in the handbook lying in front of me, his arm touching mine. I thought of the look in his eyes when I had grabbed hold of him back in the diner, and a pleasant shiver coursed through me.

  I quickly glanced at the other students depicted on the canvas. I didn’t recognize any of the others, but one student seemed a bit off. Maybe it was a mismatched play of light, but one of them, near the back of the room, seemed completely covered in shadows.