Spearwood Academy Volume Four (The Spearwood Academy Book 4) (8 page)

T
he semi-sweet aroma of cocoa wakes me up from a peaceful dream. I stretch my arms above my head and open my eyes. I’m still on the couch in the Cabin.

We fell asleep here while we were cuddling. I smile. I’m glad he was okay with not going any farther than what we did last night. I’m just not ready for something like that yet.

It felt so good just lying in his arms though. Through the entire night; never once feeling the pull of the moon.

I look to the coffee table. On it sits a steaming mug of cocoa. He remembered. I sit up and grasp it in my hands before standing. I wonder where he is. I walk around the living room. “Mav?” I call.

“Out here!”

One of the windows near the front door stands open. I go outside and cup the mug with both hands. “What are you doing out here? It’s kinda chilly.”

“I don’t feel it. Look at how beautiful the sunrise is.”

Hues of pink and purple mingle together amongst the fluffy clouds. The clearing around the Cabin gives a perfect view of it. “Absolutely gorgeous,” I say.

I stand next to him and he wraps his arm around me and gives me a kiss on the head. I sigh. I wish we could stay here forever.

“I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

He sets his mug down and turns me so my back faces the Cabin. “You didn’t ruin anything. I love you and nothing could ruin that.”

“I’m so glad I admitted my feelings to you in the barn that day. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“That was the happiest day of my life.”

He leans over and kisses my forehead, nose and lips.  I run my hand through his black hair. The white forelock hangs in front of his eyes, and I push it behind his ear. I like that he hasn’t tied it back yet for the day. “Let’s just stay here forever. No one knows we’re out here. We could just live in the forest.”

Maverick sighs. “You know we can’t do that, Lon. We have to fix my brother and yours. We can’t leave them in that state.”

He’s right. I wish he wasn’t. “Then let’s just stay here for the morning and make out. I don’t want to have to think about the rest of the world.”

He grins. “Now, I think that could be arranged.”

His warm lips meet mine in a gentle kiss, but a
thump
makes me pull away from him. Where did that sound come from? No one else is out here.

Maverick grunts, and I look to him. He grips at his chest and falls to his knees. A gasp escapes him.

“Mav?” Cold rushes over my body. I fall to my knees with him. “Mav, what’s wrong?”

Blood trickles down the corner of his mouth. I can’t breathe. I look over his shoulder. The end of an arrow sticks out near the left side of his back.  Red feathers attached as the fletching. “Oh God!” I gasp. “I need to heal you now!”

He rips open his shirt. A black spot spreads out over his heart. He shakes his head no. “You can’t,” he gasps. “I’ve been poisoned by nightshade. There’s no cure.”

His body falls forward into me. “I have to try. My Angel powers will cure you.”

He shakes his head against my shoulder. “No. That will kill you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

A sob erupts from me. My fingers go into his long black hair.   “Please don’t leave me.”

“You need to live, Lon.” His gasps are becoming shorter.

“I don’t want to live without you. This isn’t the end.”

Maverick uses my shoulders to push himself up to look at me. He kisses my forehead, his lips blue.  “I . . .” He sways and falls forward again. His body convulses in my arms before he goes still.

“Maverick?” I can’t feel his breath on my shoulder. I lift a hand to check for a pulse. Nothing. “Maverick!”

END OF SEASON ONE: Spearwood

SEASON TWO: War

Stay tuned for Excerpts from Author Heather Dowell and Spearwood Boys Volume One.

The Splicing Project: The Challenge by Heather Dowell

Octavius – Awoken

“Section A18 through Z18, report to the loading dock immediately.”

The moonlight shines in through the glass wall. I’ll pass on hauling in a bunch of food in the middle of the night. Wait—middle of the night?

Spider splicers walk out of rooms and into the hallway. I climb up to the top of the pine tree and scale down the wall.

“Watch it,” someone says as I crash into them. I don’t have time to apologize. I push my hands out and run through the crowd.

I spot Arrow’s neon blue hair, which resembles an anime character’s. He presses his back against the wall as others walk past. His green eyes dart around until they lock with my four black ones.

“Where’s Echo?”

“I don’t know,” Arrow says. “I’m trying to reach out to his mind, but I’m having trouble in all these streams.”

“I could bite a few and lower the mind count.”

He shakes his head. “Let’s not use your lethal bite for evil.”

I roll my eyes. “Save my venom for the guards, right?”

Arrow nods. “Speaking of guards.” He points at the vertex of the L-shaped hallway.

Richards, the biggest scum bag of them all, rounds the corner.

“Gangway. Gangway,” he says.

We clear a pathway for Richards, who demands the reverence of a god.

The girl beside me trembles as he walks past and gives her a wink. Her friend hugs her.

“What’s that about?”

Arrow gives me a solid stare. “He raped her.”

I break free of the wall and run toward Richards.

“Octavius! Get back here!” Arrow yells.

Richards swings around to face me and pulls out a night stick. I jump forward, ready to tackle him. Large black arms stop me in midair. I elbow the person.

“Take your friend’s advice,” Richards says. The scars he inflicted on my back heat up as I take in his puny frame. He laughs and continues on his way. “Move along!”

The arms around me let me go after Richards rounds the corner. I glare at his silver eyes when I face him. “Echo!”

Arrow holds up his pointer finger. “Don’t, Octavius. Echo just saved your life.”

I grunt. The girl from the wall walks by. I grab her and cup her face between my hands. Her eyes go wide. “I’ll kill him for you. I promise.”

She squirms away from me.

“Octavius, you can’t say stuff like that,” Arrow warns.

“Yeah,” Echo chimes in. “It’ll get you killed.”

I cross my arms. “Not if I kill first.”

They mimic my arm crossing and shake their heads at each other.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Echo says. He runs a hand over his bald head and walks around me. “We need to get going.”

“Fine. Just know that you can’t keep me from killing him forever.”

I fall in line with the rest of the crowd and put my white shoulder-length hair into a ponytail.

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The Newcomer by Heather Dowell

Schizophrenia

Emma

I
stare out the side window, drowning out the other patients, as they talk about their day. Snowflakes kiss the glass before sliding down and melting. I wish I could go out there and play in the snow. Out there beyond the fence that separates me from the rest of the world.

A baby bird flies off a barren branch. Its little wings flap, as it flies over to the brick building across the street—Sally’s Bakery—with Christmas decorations displayed in the frosted windows.

A few weeks from now, the staff will order sugar-free cupcakes to go with our Christmas dinner. Though I’ll be gone by then, my endorphins spike just thinking about the sweetness touching my tongue. We don’t get sweets here. Some people have parents who visit on the weekend, and bring them candy from the vending machine downstairs, but I’ve never been so lucky. I’m the girl without a family, New York’s little mystery.

“Emma?”

“Huh?” I , turn to Elle.

She runs a hand through her messy, layered hair. The black makes her pale skin stand out, but her beauty shines through; with her rosy lips and big brown eyes. “Your turn,” she responds.

“Oh.” I scan the room. Same old scene, as always. Crystal pushes back her cuticles with her thumb nail. Elle draws on the back of her clip board. Mark shakes his leg, while staring at the tiled floor, as if it will open up and swallow him whole at any moment. Zack yawns and scratches his brow.

“Emma.” I wave. Two new faces. Not hard to believe with Christmas around the corner. Everyone gets depressed and tries to kill themselves. When they fail, they get sent here. Even long-term residents get stuck with roommates. Adding a bunch of depressed people to such a small unit doesn’t do much for holiday cheer, but at least they’ll stay alive.

Strong urine makes its way to my nose as the heating unit kicks on. Nervous Edward must’ve soiled himself again. He really shouldn’t have to participate in group. I do my best to ignore the smell. “I have schizophrenia, but my medication is working. I haven’t had any hallucinations for over a year, and I’m no longer paranoid.” I sound like a grocery list with only fruits and vegetables on it. I wish I had something interesting to say, but I never do.

Tiffany glances up from her old-school yellow legal pad. “And what are you looking forward to?” She runs the back end of a pencil through her voluminous shoulder-length, auburn hair, until it meets the edge of her thick-rimmed, dark red glasses.

I flick up the corner of the paper held down by the clipboard in my lap. “Group home.” I bob my head, still flicking away the corner. “I hope I get sent there when I turn eighteen, just a few days from now.” I smooth out the warped corner, but it doesn’t stay flat. “I’m nervous, obviously. If I don’t get picked, I’ll be sent to the adult unit.” She knows this, being my personal therapist for the last decade, but the newbies don’t, which means I have to recant it, the same thing over and over again, so that everyone feels comfortable sharing. Being closed-off isn’t an option. I wish it where, for Nervous Edward’s shake. Poor boy thinks none of us can smell it, and just sits there.

Tiffany tilts her head to the side. “Does that alternative scare you?”

I rub my thumb nail. “More than anything.” Hunched over my clip board, I shake my head, slowly. “I’ve been living in this building for the past thirteen years. I don’t want to transfer to another one, never to get out.” Tears try to surface, but I push them back down and sit up straight. I refuse to feel sorry for myself. Those days ended when Elle and Zack came into my life. I will not go back.

Tiffany scribbles something down before adjusting her dark red glasses. “What about the group home? Any concerns there?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m nervous.” I shrug. “I don’t know what to expect. I’ve never been more than a five block radius away from here. How could I not be nervous? I can deal with nerves though. I’m ready to get out of here.”

I hope she doesn’t take it the wrong way. After all, I’ll still see her for our sessions. I’m just done with being locked up in the psych ward. I’m ready to devour a hot dog, even if it is made with sewer rat meat. I’m ready to be normal, free.

I breathe through my nose and glance over to the window. If only I could be a bird.

Tiffany clears her throat. “Thank you for sharing. Zack?”

A pencil drops, drawing my attention to Zack as he bends over to pick it up. A chill runs up my spine. He’s by far the hottest guy to ever grace this place, and his smile nearly brings me to my knees every time I see it.

Elle backhands my arm.

“Ow!”

“Stop drooling,” she whispers. “Psychopath, remember?”

Of course I remember, it’s the only thing that keeps me from falling for him. I roll my eyes and fold my arms. “Who else am I supposed to drool over? My doctor? Um, no!”

“Your doctor’s a lot hotter than mine,” she says.

Zack clears his throat. “Zack,” he says, turning his fingernails grey with graphite. “I’m really
horney
right now.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes. Elle pinches me.

“Would you stop doing that? You’re going to give me a bruise.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” she says.

With her palms down, lowering them with a steady beat, Tiffany says, “Settle down. Settle down.”

The new girls stop laughing and soliciting sexual offers, but they continue to stare at Zack, as if he’s a juicy steak. They must be experienced in that area. Heat doesn’t seem to rise to their cheeks the way it does to mine. I doubt they know Zack has little to no experience with girls. At least, I think he doesn’t. Would he ‘explore’ with cameras all around?

I shield my cheek from him and Elle, before turning to the window.

Minutes pass before Tiffany says, “That’ll be all for now.” Over by the door, she holds out an old coffee can I decorated in her office when I was eight. She learned quickly that giving me something to do helped move along our sessions. She was the first therapist I really opened up to.

Zack slips a pencil under his long sleeve and tried to walk past her, undetected.

“Zack?” she says with an authoritative voice.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh, spins on his heel to face her, and says, “I’ve been
really
good. I’d be even better, if you’d let me keep just this one.”

She folds one of her arms and stretches out the one with the pencil jar. “No.”

Zack gives her the stink eye. “Fine!” He launches the pencil across the room “Go fetch!”, and stomps his way out.

“Okay, maybe Elle’s right about him. A disappointed sigh escapes me. I deposit my pencil, and take a final look outside. No bird.

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Spearwood Boys Volume One Excerpt