I couldn’t help my surprise at that. “You… you live here?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  I frowned, not understanding how that was possible. “Then you bought a house?”

  “I did,” he answered with a quick nod. “Do you recall the one we toured together?”

  “The one just up the road?”

  He’d been looking into the farmhouse a few doors down from my own, and he’d invited me to go and take a look at it with him. It had been a gorgeous place, quite a bit bigger than my own, and in need of fewer renovations to boot, but I hadn’t thought he’d settled on it yet.

  Andre nodded, looking pleased. “I’m in the process of moving in.”

  I couldn’t help the sense of warmth that suddenly suffused me. And not only for myself. “Finn’s going to be over the moon,” I said with a big smile. “You know, he hasn’t said anything, but I noticed a new number on his arm the other day.”

  Finn had latched onto Andre quickly, seeing him as something of a cool, mysterious teacher, I suspected. It was going to be wonderful having Andre around to help keep Finn from burning himself out as he learned to be a Magician. Maybe between the two of us, we’d be able to protect Finn from himself long enough for him to grow into the thoughtful, kind-hearted, powerful young man I’d seen in my vision.

  And, if there were other reasons it might be nice to have Andre so close, living in the Hollow, then that was something I could think about later. A lot later.

  “He’s mastered another trick already?” Andre gave a low whistle. “The boy’s a prodigy. It’s not surprising, considering who his mother is.”

  The flush that had been finally dying down flared back to life, and I had to force myself not to duck my head like a school girl. “You give me too much credit.”

  One dark brow arched, but Andre’s smile never faltered. “I think you give yourself too little, but I’ll agree to disagree.”

  I wanted to ask him a thousand questions. They were burning at the back of my tongue; I didn’t even know where to start. Did he know anyone else in town? Did he have anywhere to go for Christmas? I couldn’t bear the thought of him alone, but it would look a little odd if I invited him to our house, especially given the state of my relationship with Marty.

  Before I could sort through the tangle of thoughts snared in my head, a particularly bitter gust of wind came tearing down the street and actually made me stagger forward a step to keep my balance.

  Wide eyed, Andre caught me before I went any further, and the press of his gloved hands on my arm was somehow warm, even through my coat.

  “This might not be the place to have a chat,” he said, a little ruefully. “I don’t suppose you have time to get a Christmas coffee and catch up a little?”

  I couldn’t help but recall that in the Christmas vision courtesy of Noelle, he’d asked something similar—asking to catch up after five years. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and noted it was earlier than I’d thought it was. I had a bit of time before I needed to baste the bird, so I nodded, feeling pleased. “Sure, that sounds good.”

  We fell in step with each other, shoulders brushing as we walked. It felt good. It felt right. Like I’d been hobbling around, but suddenly I could take a proper step again.

  The strange sense of familiarity didn’t feel so worrisome, now that I knew there was a chance that Andre felt it too—well, from what he’d admitted to me in my vision, anyway. That deep sense of déjà vu had frightened me a little, when we’d first met. I hadn’t understood where it was coming from. I still didn’t, but it was one of those things that just felt less scary when it was shared.

  I tilted my head back to the sky, as the snow fell gently around us, flakes landing on my skin like little icy kisses. The whole day had been so perfect so far, that it felt a bit like I’d been given a gift.

  The wrapper in my pocket crinkled slightly.

  “Actually, I don’t think I’ll get a coffee,” I started, after we’d walked a few steps.

  “No?”

  I shook my head and smiled up at him. “I think today calls for a candy cane hot chocolate.”

  I laughed, the fog of my breath pluming on the air. “I’m in the mood for something festive.”

  The End

  ~~~~~

  Return to Haven Hollow in:

  Blood Rose

  ~~~~~

  Return to the Table of Contents

  BLOOD ROSE

  Haven Hollow #26

  (Blood Rose Academy)

  by

  J.R. RAIN

  &

  H.P. MALLORY

  Blood Rose

  Published by Rain Press

  Copyright © 2023 by J.R. Rain & H.P. Mallory

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Blood Rose

  Chapter One

  “I’m going to get kicked out on my first day,” I moaned, shuffling from foot to foot in front of the gilt-framed mirror in the coven’s living room.

  The stupid portal within the mirror was supposed to have opened ten minutes ago to allow me through, but the incantation I’d been sent wasn’t working. I was convinced I was saying it wrong, but Wanda assured me I’d said it right when she examined the slip of paper that came with my acceptance letter. So, the problem had to be with me. Or, more pointedly, with my magic. Yes, mirror magic was a specialized talent, but the headmistress of Blood Rose Academy was an expert enchantress, and she was the one holding the door open. All I had to do was metaphorically squeeze through the gap, but it seemed I couldn’t even do that right.

  Blood Rose Academy’s classes started tomorrow, and the entrance welcome and interview was due to begin soon. And I still couldn’t get through the mirror. Because, of course, things could never be simple.

  “Astrid, you’re going to be fine so will you please stop having a breakdown,” Wanda said, smoothing non-existent wrinkles out of my uniform. She took to fussing with clothes when she was nervous. Mine. Hers. Anything on her racks. I suspected that, as a magical tailor, the feel of fabric soothed her.

  “I’m not having a breakdown,” I responded.

  “Well, regardless, you’re stressing me out so take a few deep breaths and try again.

  I wanted to. I really, really did, but opening the portal seemed impossible with the mirror staying shiny and heartlessly smooth in its frame. I only had five minutes to get through the mirror and into Headmistress Aurea’s office. A second after that and I’d be officially late, which wouldn’t bode well for my future at Blood Rose Academy. Witches were petty on the whole and weren’t inclined to let even the smallest of slights go. And being late on my first day? Yeah, that would be considered a slight.

  “The child is clearly useless with magic and, thus, should not be allowed entrance to such a prestigious academy,” Hellcat announced in between licking his paws.

  “And that’s enough out of you!” Wanda railed at him.

  I swallowed and took a look around the room, disheartened by the lack of people. It was silly, but I’d been hoping for a big send off by my friends and my found family with the witches of Scapegrace Coven. It was evening and I knew, logically that Poppy and Finn couldn’t be here to send me off. He did have school in the morning. Marty and the ghost hunters were off dealing with a spook, dragging Darla along with them. Fifi was showing houses. Roy had a bar to run. Life in the Hollow would and should go on without me here and I fully understood that. Still, was it such a crime to want some assurance they’d miss me? Only Wanda, Lorcan, and Olga graced the foyer of the massive Tudor Revival that had become our coven’s home. Well, and Hellcat, but I actually would have preferred it if he’d stayed home.

  There was one absence that hurt more than the rest. Maverick, my stupid, stubborn warlock brother had refused my invitation weeks ago. It was silly to hope that he’d reconsider things at the last minute. When Maverick made a decision, it was hard to sway him, and he’d made his opinion on Blood Rose very clear. If there were vampires there, he didn’t want me going, and he wasn’t going to tacitly endorse my going by showing up to give me a hug or his well wishes. But a small, childish part of me hoped he’d change his mind, because I wouldn’t see him for another year, at least.

  Olga, the white-haired German grandmother type of our little brood, glanced up from her book of shadows every few minutes to give me an encouraging smile. Her raccoon familiar, Franz, had curled up on the rug in front of her, rather than risk having his tail caught under the rocking chair. Her eyes were soft and kind as she regarded me.

  “You vill be fine,” she said.

  “Is that a prediction?” I asked hopefully. Olga had received the gift of second sight centuries ago, which meant she could pick up on things the rest of us couldn’t.

  She shook her head with an amused smile. “Nein, just an educated guess. I vas a teacher zere for many years. It is merely... one large coven, and nozing zat you cannot handle.”

  One large coven.

  Great.

  Like living in an ordinary coven had been easy. Even the most easy-going covens, like ours, had a hierarchy to adhere to and a baseline tension born of habit. In witch society, you watched your back, lest someone stick an athame into it to further their own ambitions. You trusted your immediate family and almost no one else. And even that wasn’t a hard and fast rule. My aunt Celestine had thrown Wanda, Maverick, and me out on our assess years ago and we were her flesh and blood. And even that had been a mercy. Banishment was a lot better than bindings or burnings.

  Add in hormonal teenagers, the sort of fickle and fast-moving relationships said teens tended to jump into, the petty disputes between disparate covens, and just the typical clique-y mean girl mentality, and things got even worse. If I didn’t watch my back, one of my fellow students would eat me alive. Or at the very least, charm a werewolf to do it for them.

  “Super,” I muttered.

  Lorcan’s cool, long-fingered hand slid into mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. When I glanced up, I found him shoulder-to-shoulder with me. His profile was striking, and his hair glinted gold in the light of the many candles on the mantle. As always, the sight of him made my heart stutter for an extra-long moment before resuming its usual pace. Lorcan was... well, he was hot. Movie-star hot, one of those men who somehow got even better looking as they aged. Wanda called it the George Clooney effect. Lorcan was a vampire trapped forever in his forties, but I suspected he’d have looked good no matter how old he’d been when the change happened.

  It felt a little wrong to react to him this way. Wanda had been a surrogate mother figure to me for a while now, which made Lorcan the closest thing I had to a dad. Like most witches, I didn’t know who my mom had banged to get me here. Regardless, whoever that guy was, he wasn’t in the picture now and he never would be. So Lorcan was what I had. And... he was good at playing the part of dad. If I had a problem, I usually went to Lorcan, not Wanda. She was just a little too tightly wound. Lorcan was decidedly less prone to bite, though he had the literal fangs.

  “Olga’s right, you know,” he said, and just the sound of his soft, lilting Irish accent made some of my tension evaporate. He had that effect on me. “You’re going to kick arse.”

  I couldn’t help a smile. “You think so?”

  He nodded. “I know so. I’ve seen you in action. If one of those bi—”

  “Lorcan,” Wanda cut across him with a reproving frown.

  “Witches,” Lorcan amended with a toothy grin. “If one of those conniving little witches tries something, you’ll handle it, my dear. It’s in your blood.”

  I stood a little straighter. Lorcan was right. This was in my blood. I was a Depraysie witch, one of the newest in a line that could trace its roots to the dark ages. Maybe even further back than that. My mother was the High Witch of the Crescent Circle Coven in Portland. My cousin, Wanda, was the power behind the throne of Haven Hollow’s gaggle of witches. I was a red-haired witch among a sea of brunettes. I was born an upstart. A troublemaker. A potential revolutionary. And I was not about to let one little stupid mirror beat me.

  “Right. I can do this,” I said, mainly to myself. Then I looked at Lorcan. “But I might need your help.”

  “Of course.”

  I stepped closer to the mirror, so I was almost nose-to-nose with my reflection. I had to admit that the uniform did flattering things for my figure. The pleated green pinafore emphasized my new curves. The cute Peter Pan collar of the undershirt softened what could have been a sexy outfit into something more innocent. The stockings and Mary Janes pushed the ensemble closer to ‘provocative’ but didn’t step over the line into what my mundane high school friends would have termed ‘trampy.’ I’d left my hair loose and wavy around my face. All in all, I looked... good. Confident. Ready.

  I pulled my hand free of Lorcan’s, pressing it to his chest instead. There was no movement beneath the skin of my palm, which was exactly what I counted on. My magic corresponded with the element of air. I thrived on calm atmospheres, meditation, and communing with nature. But since time was in short supply, meditation or a leisurely stroll through the garden were out. Instead, I focused on that stillness inside Lorcan, as I had once before to ground a spell. I let my intention fill the void until I could summon enough power to back it. It was the basis of all witch magic.

  Intent, incantation, issue forth.

  I reached for the mirror and murmured, “Aperi ostium ut transirem.”

  I met with resistance for the fourth time in as many minutes, but this time, the glass gave, just a little. It still felt like it was pushing against me, fighting to remain solid, but it had wavered, just for a moment. Emboldened, I pushed further, literally elbowing my way into the damn thing. It was less like stepping through a curtained doorway, like it should have been, and more like trying to struggle through a narrow gap between brick buildings, but I was moving. I sank into the mirror inch by hard-won inch, until just my fingers and face remained free. Lorcan gave them an encouraging squeeze before releasing me.

  “Good luck,” he said.

  “Auf wiedersehen,” Olga called.

  “Don’t get stuck in the mirror,” Hellcat grumbled.

  “And be safe!” Wanda called after me.

  I smiled as I sunk all the way into the mirror. Blood Rose was an academy full of witches, fae, demons, vampires, and any other monster you cared to name, all packed into one far-flung castle.

  I had a sneaking suspicion that ‘safe’ wasn’t in the tarot cards for me.

  ***

  The room beyond was dark. Which seemed wrong. Wasn’t I supposed to arrive inside the headmistress’ office directly instead of ending up... wherever I now was? My short-lived feeling of victory dribbled away like yesterday’s potions, leaving me tired and discouraged. So much for making it on time. I’d managed to flub the spell. Again. Sigh.

  I forced myself to breathe, and my heart began to slow. Squeezing through the narrow gap had given me an acute sense of claustrophobia. Next term, I’d insist on taking the backroads.

  My hearing was piqued, waiting for some clue as to where I was. With any luck, I’d be close enough to the office that I could slip in without being tardy. Wherever I was had to have a door, so I stepped forward, my movement slow and cautious.

  My fingers met a narrow plank of wood. Something rattled as I touched it, and I froze in place. Was there someone inside this place with me? Was the headmistress watching my every move from a shadowy corner and chuckling to herself over how bad my magic was? It was absolutely something I could picture a witch doing.

  Like I said, we’re petty people.

  But no. The sound died away a moment later, leaving me in the dark stillness of the room. I cautiously moved my hand along the plank and let out a breathless little shriek when my hand touched something rough and scaly that moved.

  I backpedaled quickly, hitting something hard. There was more clanking, and something actually fell from above, hitting my head with a dull, painful ‘thunk’. It hit my foot on the way down, sending a streak of pain up my ankle. I bit back a curse and hopped on one foot. With more narrow planks digging into my back, I reached out and gripped what I was fairly sure was a broom or mop handle. So, I could hazard a guess as to where I’d ended up—a storage closet of some kind. I must have banged into the shelves.

  A moment later a light clicked on, leaving me blinking spots from my eyes. When my vision cleared enough, I found myself in a five-foot-by-five-foot room lined with shelves. Bottles of every size, shape, and color had been arranged in neat rows. Potions ingredients were stashed in glass jars and stored near the top shelf. I’d been fortunate enough to knock over a copper kettle, instead of one of the tinctures. There was no telling what could have happened if I’d spilled a potion on myself.

  The scaly thing I’d touched turned out to be a snake. A huge, undulating gray-brown snake that had reared up from its resting place on the shelf. My heart leapt into my mouth and choked my words. I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say after coming face-to-face with a supernaturally large Black Mamba? It wasn’t that snakes scared me. Two of Wanda’s sisters had snake familiars, but those had been rat and garter snakes. Deadly to their chosen prey, but too small in comparison to a witch to be any real threat, even though, as familiars, they grew to be larger than their natural counterparts.

  No, I was scared of this snake. It wasn’t every day that you stared down one of the fastest and deadliest snakes in the world. The ordinary black mamba was around fourteen feet long. This one was twenty, at least, and more muscular than any snake I’d ever seen before.

  Its tongue flicked out restlessly, tasting the air around me. It tilted its head to one side, considering me as I tried to understand what in the world it was doing in a closet. When it spoke, its voice was a low, sibilant hiss, too alien to be easily classified as either male or female.