A Witch and Her Vampire (Coven Crest Academy #4)

Chapter 1

Maeve

MY LEGS DANGLE OVER THE edge of the waist-high stone railing encircling the Skyreach Spire.

Far below me, the trees dotting the campus courtyard sway in a comforting late-summer breeze.

A long lock of violet hair blows into my view, dancing in front of my eyes, but I ignore it, focusing on the pure-white energy sphere crackling between my palms.

My eyes are narrowed, every ounce of my intention being directed into the sphere.

This is the first time I’ve been able to hold its shape for more than a few seconds, and my muscles are already starting to tremble from the power required to contain the sphere.

It wants to explode and send bolts of lightning sparking off in all directions, to break free of my control and lash outward wildly.

It’s happened before. And that’s why I’m up on the storm spire instead of sitting cross-legged on my bed back in room NT33.

Last time I practiced in our dorm room, one of my sparks went errant, and it singed the letter Poppy had been writing and burned one of Lyra’s curls off.

Alina escaped unscathed, but none of them were happy.

The girls made a new rule after that: Maeve practices her storm magic outside.

So, here I am.

Another breeze washes over me, rustling my skirt along my thighs and tugging at the energy pulsing in my hold.

“Be careful,” Isis hisses to me from where she’s coiled around my neck, her head close to my ear.

“I’m. Being. Careful,” I bite out, clenching my teeth against the strain as sweat beads along my hairline.

Then, with no warning, the sphere explodes, sending crackles of lightning in every direction.

I flinch back. Some sparks hit the castle, skittering over the stone, while others fly off into the sky or down to the lush green grass below.

I quickly conjure a swirl of water in my palm, just in case something catches on fire.

But after a few seconds, nothing goes up in flames, and my lightning has dispersed.

With a sigh, I lower my hand, allowing the water to splash away and fall the long distance down to the grassy ground far below me.

“That was a close one,” Isis says, flicking her tongue. “What happened that time?”

“I don’t know.” And that’s exactly my problem.

I’ve been working and working at my energy sphere, but the progress I’ve made has been slow and inconsistent.

I shake my head and put a hand to my temple.

My fingers are warm from the lightning magic as I wipe away the perspiration that beaded there.

“But there must be some way to do it. I just need to be more focused, more . . . controlled. If I want to get that fellowship, I can’t keep failing like this. ”

There are other candidates—students vying for the same coveted invitation to join the Arcanum Collective and pursue advanced magical research—and if I can’t control my energy sphere, I’m not going to stand a chance against them.

A deep chime reverberates through the castle and all the way up to me where I’m seated at the top of the spire.

The sound and vibration send a murder of crows into the sky, their cries echoing through the castle courtyard as they fly overhead, their black bodies like smudges of ink against the pale sky.

That means it’s time for class.

I swing my legs back over the railing, the stone warm against my bare thighs beneath my skirt, and drop down, then grab my bookbag from where I left it and sling it over my shoulders, being careful of Isis as she recedes under my hair, still coiled around my throat.

It’s the first day of the new school year at Coven Crest, and I’m finally wearing a robe trimmed in purple: a fourth-year robe. It’s the robe that means this will be my last year here, my last year dorming with Alina and Lyra and Poppy, my last year before everything becomes real.

No more safety, no more waiting. After this year, it all changes, and I’ll be out there in the real world, no longer sheltered by the academy’s walls.

And I’m determined to be prepared when that time comes: with a fellowship to attend the Arcanum Collective and further my research into magical power sources—namely, storm magic—and how they might be used to benefit the nonmagical people of Elarwyn.

But despite all my effort, I still haven’t been able to fully control the energy sphere.

I have to push harder. Control it. Shape it.

Another sigh slips out of me as I cross the spire and reach for the door that leads into the spiraling staircase that’ll take me down to the elemental magic hallway.

“You’ll get it,” Isis says from where she’s curled beneath my hair, where my professors won’t be able to see her, since we’re not supposed to bring our spirit companions to class—even though most students do, as long as they’re small enough to conceal.

“I will,” I say as my fingers wrap around the door handle, which is warm from the morning sun. “Or else the collective will never take me.”

The thought of not getting the fellowship—of not being able to continue my research with the full support of the great minds at the ancient magic guild—makes me want to send storms roiling across the sky.

Which I can do. I’ve done it before. Yet I somehow can’t get one energy sphere to hold.

I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes, more determined than ever to get this right.

Then I yank open the door and step into the cool darkness of the tower, ready for my last first day at the academy.