Page 14 of Escaping Hallow Hill Academy
I finger around the cold metal until I find the lock at the back of my neck. My nail digs into the hole where a key should fit and measure the size, chewing the inside of my cheek. This is the easiest fucking lock I’d ever had to pick in my life. I’ve broken into seven-year-old’s diaries with better security than this crap.
“Forgive me,” I whisper as I unsheathe Damios and bring the tip of it to the back of my neck. It slides in, and with a couple of twists, I can hear the lock disengage and the collar separate. Breathing a sigh of relief, I sheathe my sword and peel the collar off. I wince in pain as I pull the needles from my skin. Belladonna drips down my flesh as it makes its last attempt to inject me with it. I promptly throw it across the street.
My neck is scattered with needle marks that are already swelling in hives. Great. Just what I needed.
Ignoring it, I walk away, feeling my magic regenerate from a tiny flicker higher into the force it should be. In a few hours, I’ll be myself again, and Sialen be damned. Fucker. If he wants to waste his potential as a Sekar groveling to the metallic hybrid bitch, then he can be my guest. I have better things to do with my time.
I take a step towards my freedom, but freedom doesn’t last very long. My whole body is sent sprawling due to an impact from behind. My knees slam against the pavement, and I groan at the surprise of it. I canfeelsomething above me, I just don’t know what the fuck it is. It’s a heavy weight, but I can’t make out the shape or contours of a body. I can only make out the cold, heavy stench of metal pressing down against the back of my spine. I struggle against whatever has me pinned down, but it’s useless. It’s too heavy, whatever it is. I buck like a wild animal now, panic getting the better of me when I hear the back of my shirt rip down the middle. Cold air and metal pierce my skin, and I barely have time to cry out before I feel the painful press of needles shoot into my skin.
I arch and scream, feeling how the needles slide slowly into my back and latch on. I can feel the thin, jagged strip of metal down the length of my entire spine clinging onto me. I scream again as belladonna shoots through my bloodstream. It attacks me from the inside, and I can do nothing but curse as the pain consumes me. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s like rivers of fire through the blood, like tiny, painful electrifying shocks killing my nervous system slowly.
Copper taste fills my mouth and dribbles down my chin and onto the pavement. I can feel the brush of the needles on my insides every time I move, and a weak whimper escapes my throat that I soon regret when polished shoes fill my vision on the ground. My eyes flick up to Marcen, who stares down at me with an expression that’s equal parts bored and amused.
“Miss Lucero . . .” he sighs. “I was hoping you would know better.”
“Fuck.” Blood and spit fly against his shoes, and I fucking hope it stains.
He makes a tsk-tsking sound and bends low; I can see his collar gleaming in the moonlight beneath the white material of his shirt. He’s as much of a prisoner as I am.
He’s just better at submission than I am.
“The headmistress expected this of you. She just never imagined you would break free. We’ve had to put a new device on you.” His finger taps against my spine, along the hard metal that’s now embedded there. “It’s a new invention. Just for you. The needles latch onto your vertebrae. That way, if you try to take it off, you’ll just end up breaking your own spine, so I wouldn’t recommend even trying. There are some things even you can’t come back from.”
Fuck! I wish I could move right now, if only to punch that smug expression right off his face.
“What does she want from me?” I demand. I’m almost afraid to hear the answer when Marcen looks at me with sorrowful eyes.
“The list, Miss Lucero. The list.”
“I don’t kill innocents.” I gasp, hating how weak that breath sounds against my lips.
“Perhaps not, but in my experience, it’s either them or you. This is the moment you have to ask yourself, how badly will you fight to stay alive?”
We both know what that answer will be.
Marcen stands up and dusts off his pleated black slacks. “The device has neurosensors on it that can detect your type of magic and spells. It sends transmissions back to its control at the Academy. At any sign of foul play or if you try to escape, belladonna will be fueled into your whole system at the press of a button. You can use magic, but it is limited to your task. Do you understand?”
I do. They put fucking training wheels on my magic, and I don’t like it one bit. But what choice do I have?
I don’t have one, and he knows it. They all know it. She said their research was thorough. They know me. They know I will do whatever it takes to survive.
My palms press against the rough pavement, and I push myself up. A twinge of discomfort races down my body. When I’m standing, I feel a slight weight on my back that’s almost unnoticeable. It feels like whatever is embedded there is a part of me, and I think that’s the point, really.
The ripped remnants of my shirt slip down my shoulders, and I let them. I refuse to appear even weaker before Marcen, because I know he’ll run back to Krist and tell her what happened. I don’t need more ammunition against me. I need to play this fucking smart.
I’ll need to break my own rules.
I’ll need to kill the innocent to survive.
* * *
My blade is drenched in blood, and it hums its delight to the night. Slick and darkened, it glows like star dust in shimmering silver and gold, the runes prominent across the sharp blade. For each kill, a new rune is etched on the weapon and on my skin. I feel the sting of it as it brands me along my arms and legs.
Four new kills. Four new runes. Four new souls for my Lady to reap.
Finding them was relatively easy. Killing them, even more so. I ignored their ramblings, going in straight for the kill. Usually I relish the violence, but this time, I don’t. I don’t even know what they did to warrant Krist’s ire, but it’s either them or me.
I will save myself every fucking time.
