Chapter 5
Five
Rose
We don’t have any time to compare notes on what just happened because immediately the entire school is called for a mandatory assembly.
The call is a compulsion, and every witch in the building knows it.
Something in the air, under the skin, a vibration through the bones that tells you to show up, or else.
I barely have time to wipe the dried blood from my cheek before Lucien, Soren, and I are funneling ourselves up the stone steps with the rest of the student body, all of us shuffled forward by the movement of the crowd.
“I guess they’re not giving us time for a costume change.” Soren tries to lighten the mood, but even he looks tense.
The Great Hall is even colder than before, if that’s possible, and the hush that falls over the crowd is icy, too.
Jasmine stands at the head of the room with Ash at her side.
His face gives nothing away, but the mark on my arm feels tight, like he’s clenching every muscle in his body not to break something.
There’s no sign of Helena. I wonder where they put the body. I was no fan, but it all seems so cold.
The entire academy is crammed in here, students, faculty, even the lunch ladies. Everyone is standing around in little clumps, glancing nervously toward the front of the Hall.
I spot Thorne, flanked by her usual crew, all with their best “I’m not scared, you’re scared” faces. Thorne’s mouth is set in this weird half-smirk, half-grimace, and her eyes are glued to the dais at the end of the Hall.
Lucien and Soren stick close to me, one on either side. Lucien’s jaw is so tight I’m surprised it hasn’t cracked. He keeps watching the crowd for threats, but the biggest one is about to stroll right through those doors.
And I’m just trying not to lose my shit. Every time I blink, I see Helena’s body on the floor, her neck bent at that impossible angle. The blood bowl. The knife. The hush right before everything went to hell.
But now, it’s quiet for a different reason. Everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The doors at the back of the Hall open with a bang, and if there’s one thing I’m learning about Jasmine Wickersly, it’s that she likes to make an entrance.
She glides in with Ash at her side. Ash’s face is stony, but the way his eyes glance toward Jasmine says that even he’s not sure what she’s about to do.
Jasmine heads straight for the front. She’s still wearing the same clothes, and I wonder if Helena’s blood is on them. Everyone steps back as she passes.
Nobody says a word.
She and Ash mount the dais. Jasmine doesn’t bother with a microphone. She just stands there, soaking in the silence, smiling like she’s about to hand out an award.
Ash stands a few feet behind her, arms folded, eyes scanning the crowd. I catch his gaze for a split second, and the mark on my arm tingles, but nothing more. He’s holding back. Watching.
Jasmine lets the silence stretch, milking it for all it’s worth. The tension is thick enough to choke on. A few people fidget, but mostly everyone is frozen, waiting to see what this means for them.
I glance at Thorne. She’s practically vibrating, her expression a perfect split between awe and terror.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was star-struck.
It wouldn’t take a genius to realize that the fabled third Wickersly sister is standing before us, the resemblance is obvious.
I’d laugh if I didn’t have the good sense to feel fear.
Jasmine finally speaks.
“Students and faculty of Serpentine Academy,” she says. “I am Jasmine Wickersly, your new Headmistress. Some of you may remember my late sister, Helena. She has vacated the position.”
The way she says “vacated” is like she sent Helena to a nice farm upstate, not snapped her neck like she was breaking a breadstick.
Ash doesn’t move a muscle.
He’s letting her take charge.
Jasmine moves to the front of the dais. “You may have heard rumors about me. I do hope you paid attention. Because everything you heard is true.” She cackles, doubling over with her hands on her knees, then stands up, catching her breath, before continuing to walk.
She stops dead center, hands clasped in front of her, and lets her gaze settle on the mass of terrified students.
“Change is never easy,” Jasmine says, voice sweet as she nods her head. “But change is necessary. The old ways? They’re dead. I buried them myself. From now on, Serpentine Academy will be ruled by strength, cunning, and loyalty. To me.”
The crowd shifts, everyone instinctively pulling back.
I watch the faculty, to the few remaining Blood Moon Coven members who didn’t run away after Helena, looking for anyone who might step up, challenge her authority. But the teachers are just as spooked as the students, eyes glued to the floor or the walls or anything but Jasmine.
She’s got them. All of them.
Jasmine paces like a panther. “There will be some reformation. We can’t have just anyone waltzing through these halls, can we?
I demand excellence. I demand devotion. I demand proof that each of you deserves to be here.
I don’t care who you are or who your family is.
All of that is meaningless. You are meaningless until proven otherwise. ”
Someone in the crowd groans.
Jasmine’s eyes snap to the spot instantly. “Is there a problem?”
Dead silence.
She turns back to the crowd, and her eyes glow brighter than before. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or maybe she’s just that deranged.
“Starting soon, every student will face a trial. Step up, prove your worth, or step aside. Permanently.”
There’s a mutter of disbelief as everyone processes her words, then a wave of panic as people realize she isn’t bluffing.
Thorne’s mouth drops open. She recovers quickly, but I catch the flash of uncertainty before she smooths it over. Her friends aren’t so composed, and one is openly trembling, and another looks on the verge of tears.
Lucien is rigid beside me, hands clenched into fists. “She’s mad.”
“Yeah, but she’s in charge,” I whisper back. “Ash isn’t doing anything to stop her, either.”
At the front, Jasmine beams. She waits, lets the volume of the crowd build, and then raises a hand. Instantly, the room goes silent again.
“Let me be clear,” she says. “There will be no second chances. If you fail your trial, you are out. No appeals. No excuses. I will not tolerate weakness.”
A ripple of angry voices rises up. The pampered, entitled student body of Serpentine Academy, the children of the wealthiest of the wealthy, are pissed that the rules have changed overnight.
One girl, tall and slim with long, wavy red hair, pushes forward. “You can’t do this! My father—”
Jasmine doesn’t even blink. She tilts her head, and the girl’s voice cuts off mid-word. Just gone. The girl tries to speak, but only smoke pours from her mouth, curling up and dissipating into the air. She clutches her throat, eyes wide with horror.
The rest of the crowd shuffles back as if the smoke might be contagious.
Jasmine watches, fascinated by her own handiwork. “No interruptions.”
The girl staggers backwards, her friends grabbing her, but the damage is done. No one else breathes a word.
Jasmine’s eyes sweep the room, lingering on every face until even the bravest look away. She lets her gaze land on me for a half-second, and I see it in her eyes, the madness.
This is a new level of crazy.
“I expect great things from all of you. Don’t disappoint me.”
She turns to Ash as if inviting him to say something. For a second, I think he might step up, take control, but he just nods. Silent approval. His eyes go to mine, the tiniest warning.
Jasmine claps her hands. “Dismissed!”
Everyone scrambles for the exits, desperate to get away from her. Even the teachers don’t wait, and they’re pushing past the students, pretending not to notice the girl who can’t speak, or the way Jasmine is singing to herself and swaying back and forth to the tune as she watches them go.
I glance at Thorne. She’s frozen, staring at Jasmine with something dangerously close to admiration. Like she’s just met her new role model.
Soren sighs. “She’s efficient, I’ll give her that.”
Lucien shakes his head, dark eyes troubled. “She’s unpredictable. That’s worse than her sisters.”
I look at the dais, at Jasmine, and I know he’s right. This new world order is built on fear and whatever Jasmine thinks passes for fun. I slip out of the Hall, blending into the crowd, keeping my head down and my eyes open.