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SUPERNATURAL REFORM SCHOOL

BLAKEMORE PARANORMAL ACADEMY BOOK ONE

SULLIVAN GRAY

E.C. FARRELL

FREE BOOK!

1. Takedown

2. The Bubble Bursts

3. Not-So-Golden Boy

4. Power Outage

5. Offline

6. Escape Plan

7. Roomies

8. Cat Omelets

9. Classy

10. Crushed

11. Bells

12. Contraband

13. Breakfast Surprise

14. Adjustment

15. Types

16. Tgif

17. Practicing Aim

18. Hot And Cold

19. The Supplier

20. Invisible Apologies

21. Mic Drop

22. Anti-Hero

23. Scare Tactics

24. Fire And Ice

25. Trust

26. Down

CONTENTS

27. Magic Ice Cream

28. Kurt Happened

29. Holds

30. Tripping

31. Sacrifice

32. Loss Epilogue

About the Authors Also By The Authors

Supernatural Reform School

No part of this work may be reproduced without express permission of the authors, unless as a brief excerpt to be used in a review or promotional post for the book.

Contact info: sullivan@authorsullivangray.com

ToMomandDad,foralwaysreading,evenwhenmywordsweren’t sogreat

ToRob,whomakesthemagichappen.Andyes,that’saeuphemism forsomething. -SullivanGray

FREE BOOK!

Want a free read? Check out this free prequel novella when you sign up for the authors’ email updates!

Read The Dragon Heir for free!

TAKEDOWN

I’ve never met an ogre I couldn’t tame. And by tame, I mean bring down to its massive, gnarly, green knees. This one shouldn’t be any different, though he smells somehow worse than any I can remember. Like rotting garbage in a fish market. Not what anyone wants to smell, especially not in an upscale steak house like this one, which is mostly frequented by humans. His skin, too, looks slimy and sticky.

Good thing my powers don’t require touch. My hands would probably come away with some kind of gunk that’s hard to scrub off. I don’t want to be late meeting my friends at the club.

It’s my birthday. But if I could be doing anything else today to celebrate, I’d still be here, taking down an ogre for the Enforcers. Maybe this makes me a terrible person, but I can’t get enough of these assignments. I feel like I’m part of something larger than me, like I’m doing important work.

I also love the surge of power through my fingertips as I focus on the wide, flat forehead of this ugly beast. A crease forms there and I can see him trying to understand why a minute ago, he was happily stuffing raw steaks into his mouth, and now he’s got a mild headache.

Well. It was mild. Now, he’s starting to figure out what’s going on as the pain spikes. He looks around, roaring, as he finally sees that he’s surrounded. That’s right, buddy. You’re going down.

I can hear the shuffling behind me as the Enforcers react to the giant ogre now raging toward us. I don’t move. Because I know that in three … two … one … the ogre will come crashing to my feet. Which he does.

Unfortunately, not without getting slime on my black leather boots. “Ugh!” I step back, shaking my foot. But whatever ogre-gunk has stuck to the leather doesn’t budge.

Footsteps sound around me as the Enforcers in their all-black uniforms surround the ogre. They’ve got cleanup duty. I’ve got a club to get to and boots to get cleaned.

“Nice work, Acadiana.” The head Enforcer nods to me. His name is Tyler, according to the patch on the front of his uniform. But I remember his face from a few previous assignments. A human, which is surprising. Usually the leadership positions are reserved for supes. He must be really good at what he does. Except for remembering names, apparently.

“It’s Cade,” I say. “Only my parents call me Acadiana. And unless you need anything else, am I good to go?”

I don’t need to mention that I’m headed to a club. The Enforcers have a hard enough time respecting me without any reminders of the fact that I’m only turning eighteen. Tyler seems cool, but many of them have a problem with me. If it’s not my age or the fact that I’m a girl, it’s that my parents hold powerful positions in the Supernatural Senate. But it usually only takes one mission with a felled ogre or neutralized vampire for them to realize that I’m not here because of my parents.

I’m one of the most powerful supernaturals in DC, maybe the whole East Coast. At least, according to the tests all supes were required to take as a part of the Supernatural Census. My scores were off the charts, so it’s hard to know exactly where I rank, other than very high.

Which is why I got to start coming on Enforcer assignments two years ago, helping take down rogue supes. Some, like this ogre, simply refuse to follow the laws in place to keep the peace. Others are far smarter and more dangerous. But none can match my power.

“We’re good now,” Tyler says. “Thanks. Oh, and happy birthday!”

“Thanks.”

I feel a little emotional that Tyler remembered. Maybe it’s because other than my parents and now Tyler, no one has said happy birthday yet in person. My best friend and boyfriend both sent texts. Social media posts from my other friends don’t count. I’m hoping that they’ve got a surprise planned at the club, because other than taking down this ogre, my birthday blows.

Tyler barks orders to the rest of the Enforcers as they begin the work of getting this massive ogre out of here. They’ll take him to one of the supe prisons, where he’ll be forcibly stripped of his powers and contained … or something. Like the human prisons, our supernatural prisons have quickly become overcrowded. But I don’t worry too much about the particulars past my job of helping catch them.

A few other supes are on standby to help fix up the steak house quickly. The right words from a witch will fix the hole in the wall, get all the glass out of here, and conjure up some fresh steaks. Humans complain about magic-procured food, but they don’t seem to mind genetically modified, which is essentially the same thing. Actually, magic food is healthier. But try convincing a human of that. They may have accepted the existence of supes fifteen years ago, but they still question and fear a lot about us.

As I make my way out of the restaurant, a few people take pictures and call out my name. Some use the unfortunate nickname the press gave me, Paranormal Princess. I know it’s because my parents are a big deal and I’m considered an elite supe. But still. It’s a terrible nickname. Half the time the press loves me and the rest of the time, they’re tearing me apart.

I smile and wave, but keep heading for the door since I need to get home and change. Sometimes I stop and take pictures with people. They’ll take them whether I stop and smile or not. Controlling the narrative is never a bad thing. Mom and Dad had their PR person give me a crash course in middle school when it became clear that the press was obsessed with me. But tonight is my night, and I’ve got a party to get to.

THE BUBBLE BURSTS

The music in the club practically vibrates in my chest, and I’m bouncing in my seat, eager to get on the dance floor. But Toby is wrapped up in conversation with Matthew and he’s got a death grip on my hand. Marissa and her boyfriend Dan are making out on the couch in our VIP section, and the other handful of people I invited are either at the bar or dancing. I was only a little late after cleaning up post-ogre, but they started the party without me.

Honestly? It’s not much of a party and I’m trying to hide my hurt feelings. I don’t want to be that girl. But is it too much to expect a few gifts? Balloons? A card? It’s just like any other night at the club, except I can’t get Toby out of the booth. Guess Eliza will have to do.

“Cade,” Eliza whines. “Let’s go dance.”

I send a tiny pulse of power to my fingers and Toby drops my hand. He gives me a hard stare, rubbing his palm where the surge of power hit him. It was only a tiny spark. “Was that really necessary?”

I shrug and give him a pouty look. “I’ve been telling you that I want to dance for the last thirty minutes.”

“Go ahead.” He waves me off and turns back to Matthew. Not for the first time, I’m wondering why we’re still together. I certainly don’t deserve to be brushed off, especially not on my birthday. Though I hate the idea of yet another breakup, there’s no shortage of guys who would be interested in me if Toby isn’t.

Which is why I’m glad for the glowing blue field Eliza makes around us as we hit the dance floor. It looks almost like a bubble, shimmering and iridescent, but no one can pass through it that she hasn’t approved of in her mind, which means the creepers will stay back. But the field also draws attention to us, so as we move to the music, I feel the beat as much as I feel eyes on us. More on Eliza with her long blonde hair and killer curves, but I don’t mind.

These days, I have a lot less privacy than I’d like. Even if my parents planned to quit their high-profile jobs (which they don’t), I’m fixed in the public eye. Lately, they like to play me as the villain. I wish I could say I just laugh it off. But I don’t.

For a moment, I let go, forgetting about Toby and my disappointing birthday, forgetting about the tabloids and their stories about me. I’m just another girl dancing in the crowd of supes and humans. There are clubs that cater to one or the other and some that even specialize in one group, like witches or vampires, but I go to a mixed private school, so this kind of club is my norm.

I can thank my parents for helping me keep an open mind. It’s part of their job, smoothing things over between the various races, but it’s also just who they are and how they’ve tried to raise me. When I was younger, I really hoped to go to an academy just for psychs. The various academies run like boarding schools, most separated by group. Supes don’t always mix well, with humans or each other. If I couldn’t go to a psych-based academy, I’m thankful my parents sent me to Glenandale Prep, so I’m used to diversity.

The song shifts to something slower and I lean in to shout at Eliza, “I’m going to see if Toby wants to dance!”

She nods and I pop out of the bubble into the crowd. As I leave, a human guy that has been standing nearby, drooling over Eliza, steps through in my place. Guess she saw something she liked. While I’ve been with Toby for a few months now, Eliza changes boyfriends on a weekly basis. I joke with her that she needs a boyfriend-subscription service. Human, supernatural—she’s not discriminating. Eliza says the sex is naturally better with supes, but it makes the human boys try harder, so it’s a toss-up.

I wouldn’t know. Toby is the first human guy I’ve dated, and I haven’t slept with anyone, supe or human. I’m not a prude, but that just seems like a huge line to cross. You can’t go back. Maybe I’m a secret romantic. I snort. Nope. I’m way too jaded. Despite the fact that our world literally has fairytale creatures, I don’t believe in a happy-ever-after.

My standards aren’t that high or anything. It seems like a small thing to want a boyfriend who doesn’t kiss and then tell the media. But every detail of my relationships has been fed to the press and the gossip blogs, where people eat it up, true or not. All I really want is a guy who isn’t intimidated by having a girlfriend who’s more powerful than he is. Someone who wants me for me, not a guy who wants to date the Paranormal Princess for the fame.

When I reach our roped-off section, Matthew is in the same spot, but Toby is gone. “Where’s Toby?”

Matthew shrugs and gives me a hard stare. “The bathroom? Why don’t you use your powers to track him?”

The words sting and I have to hold myself back from sending a surge of power at him. Not that I would, but the urge is there. It’s illegal to use powers like that, but mostly people look the other way for small things. That would be considered a misdemeanor anyway.

But I’m better than that. So, I walk away, heading toward the VIP bathrooms only the private areas of the club have access to. The first two private bathrooms are empty. I use the second one, checking my makeup in the mirror before I head back out. The third bathroom is locked. Leaning against the wall, I wait, still thinking about Matthew’s words.

He’s always hated me. Our families run in the same circles—mine is on the political side and his Dad runs a billion-dollar tech firm, but they’re always rubbing elbows at fancy dinners and events. Though Matthew has never come out and said it, I think he hates all supes. He’s not alone.

Tension has always existed between the supernatural community and the human one. At least since supes revealed themselves in what history books call the Unveiling. I wish I’d been old enough to remember it, but I was just a toddler. Humans were shocked to

realize that creatures they thought of as fictional had been (mostly) coexisting since the beginning of time.

The first few years things were pretty volatile. Supernaturals like my parents worked with humans to organize and structure a government and laws that would keep the peace. It’s not perfect. People like Matthew still hate and mistrust us. And there are supes who feel the same way about humans.

Toby was different, which is why I don’t get his friendship with Matthew. Dubbed by the press as The Golden Boy, Toby Keeler is as present in the gossip columns as I am. His dad has some important White House position that I never remember the name of, and we crossed paths at a benefit.

We spent the event dancing and avoiding the small talk we were both supposed to engage in. Toby is charming with his surfer good looks and crooked smile. Plus, he totally understood the world of being a political kid. For a few months, things seemed great. But now I’m wondering why I’m standing alone outside of a locked bathroom door on my birthday.

I run my hands over my arms. This hallway is cold and I’m just thinking about heading back to find Eliza when I hear it.

It’s the cliché from basically every book and movie when the heroine realizes her boyfriend is cheating: the sound of a low voice and then a giggle and breathy moan.

No. I’m not going to be this girl. I won’t stand out here in the hall, waiting for Toby to emerge with some other girl’s lipstick on his neck and a guilty look. I know that it might just be some stranger, not Toby at all, but a part of me just knows.

I zap the door open, thankful that they at least still have their clothes on. Toby’s expression is startled, but not sorry as he looks at me over the shoulder of a petite human girl. I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing any of the emotion I’m feeling. Instead, I pull on a mask of indifference. I am deadly calm. Bored, even.

“We’re done,” I say. Toby doesn’t even have the decency to say he’s sorry or try to defend himself. I know I deserve better than this, but it still hurts. The girl, for her part, looks shocked and sad,

blinking her brown eyes at me, but not trying to extricate herself from my boyfriend’s—or ex-boyfriend’s—embrace.

As I stomp away, I call to her over my shoulder. “Enjoy your sloppy seconds. Fair warning—he tends to cheat.”

NOT-SO-GOLDEN BOY

I’m still in the Uber on the way home from the club when the alerts start blowing up my phone. Mom and Dad’s PR person helped me set them up for mentions of my name in the media. But every time my phone dings, my stomach drops. It’s like that toxic friend you just can’t quit. I don’t want to know what the press is saying, but not knowing is somehow worse. Taking a shaky breath, I scan the headlines. Paranormal Princess’ Birthday Breakup!

The Golden Boy’s Back on the Market!

Frozen Out: Golden Boy Can’t Thaw Paranormal Princess Reset Your Chastity Countdown! Princess Still Has Her V-Card!

You really can’t win as a woman: too virginal or too slutty. It massively sucks to know that the whole world is aware of details that should be between me and one other person. How do the tabloids keep getting their info? It’s unnervingly accurate, every time. I don’t want to think it was one of my friends … but it has to be. As a cherry on top, all the articles have paired terrible candid pictures of me with photos of Toby in a tux, smiling with his perfect white teeth.

“You okay?” The Uber driver meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. I know he recognized me when I got in, because his eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything. I force a smile. “Yeah, thanks.”

I will not cry over a cheater.

Staring at Toby’s smile in the photo, I wonder if I knew him at all. Something feels off. Or maybe paranoia is the normal default when your trust has been shattered. I want to toss my phone out the window of the Uber. I can’t even wallow in misery privately. This humiliation, like the rest of my life, is very public.

As the car pulls up to the circular drive of our house in Arlington, my phone buzzes with texts. I thank the driver and add a big tip through the app before I check my messages. I left without saying goodbye, but it took this long for anyone to message me?

I pause on the front porch to read my texts. Eliza says she’s worried about me and wants me to text when I get home. But the next message is about the cutest new shifter … Ugh. I can’t read the rest and shove it back in the pocket of my skinny jeans. I hate feeling sorry for myself. But Toby isn’t the only one who let me down tonight. I glance through the window at our formal dining room table. My life, which I know drips with privilege, suddenly feels as fragile and empty as the china cup that’s been left alone on the dining table.

Power tingles through my muscles like a thousand swarming fireflies as I unlock the front door. My emotions are causing my power to flare. At least Mom and Dad are gone so I don’t have to hash through the details. They have some kind of benefit tonight, just another of the elbow-rubbing requirements of their job. If it wasn’t my birthday, they probably would have forced me to come along. My parents respect my work with the Enforcers, but they notso-secretly want me to follow in their footsteps, making laws and lasting changes, not locking up one bad guy at a time. We’ll see.

My strappy heels click on the entryway tile, and the smell of the calla lilies on the table hits my nose as I make a beeline for the kitchen. Birthday breakup calls for ice cream.

I freeze halfway into the room. Mom is standing by the kitchen island and spins to face me, looking as surprised as I feel. I try to force my expression into something neutral. Like I didn’t get dumped and essentially forgotten on my birthday. I’m surprised she hasn’t seen any of the headlines yet.

“Acadiana, what are you doing home so early?”

Her head tilts as she works to hook one of her diamond earrings into place. Her hair, a similar dark brown to mine, is cut into a sleek pixie and she wears a floor-length blue evening gown that offsets her gray eyes.

“Mom? I thought you had a benefit to save the wetlands or wampus cats or whatever.”

“We were. We are.” She waves a hand. “It’s complicated. We’re about to go back. But your birthday! I thought you’d be home much later. Did something happen with Eliza? Toby?” Her eyes narrow as she says Toby’s name.

My parents have never been Toby’s biggest fans, which shocks me. They never gave me a good reason, but have been against the relationship from the beginning. I thought they’d be thrilled, as they’re always trying to set me up with guys from other political families. They’ll be happy to hear about the breakup, but I can’t take an I-told-you-so right now.

I roll my eyes. Better to play the annoyed teenager than one recently scorned. A little nudge and I can get her off my case easy and without suspicion. “I’m fine, mom. Taking down ogres does that to a girl. It was a big day. Just going to go to bed early.”

Movement catches my eye and I see a pacing figure behind the frosted glass doors of Dad’s office. I hear deep voices. Right in the middle of a benefit is a weird time to have an at-home meeting. But honestly, half the things my parents do are beyond me.

It’s all part of playing the game, Dad likes to say. As though the job of easing tensions between supes and humans is something to be taken lightly. Truth is, despite all the progress, it’s still somewhat of a powder keg. Conspiracy theorists are always saying we’re on the brink of war, but for the past sixteen years, people like Mom and Dad have helped keep the peace.

“Who’s here with Dad?”

Mom laughs, her hand going to her earring again. “Oh, just one of the lobbyists. You know how it is.”

I do. And the last thing I want to do right now is make small talk, so I dart toward the back stairs just as the office doorknob beings to

turn. “Have fun at the rest of the benefit. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Before she can respond, I sprint to the second floor, through the game room, and to my bedroom. Decorated in my signature colors, black and pink, it serves as both my happy place and sanctuary for when everything becomes a little too much. I used to spend hours in here, curled up on the window seat, reading.

I honestly wish I’d stayed home and read tonight rather than heading to the club. I used to be much more of a homebody, back before I met Eliza in eighth grade. In her words, I was “an adorable nerdling in need of rescue.” It’s hard to remember what it felt like to stay home on Friday nights, diving into a good book. The older I got, the more I was dragged to my parents’ social functions. Eliza kept the rest of my social calendar full with parties and clubs.

Kicking off my heels, I flop onto my bed and let out a groan. Toby grins at me from the picture on my nightstand. In the photo he stands behind me with his arms around my waist. I think it was taken at a dinner honoring for the Committee for Species Relations. They all blend together after a while. Because our parents run in all the same circles, I’ll probably have to pretend to be civil, like I didn’t catch him sucking face with another girl in a club bathroom. Some Golden Boy. I slam the frame down so I don’t have to look at his cheating face.

My phone buzzes again. My heart kicks up when I realize it’s one of the private numbers from the Enforcers. Two calls in one day is unusual, but activity seems like it’s been picking up lately. And I’d much rather go on a call now than wallow alone any longer.

“Yes?” I say, trying not to sound too hopeful or desperate.

“Acadiana—uh, Cade,” Tyler says. “We have a situation with a mage. Any chance you’re available?”

Power surges through me, reaching, begging to be used. “Where do you need me?”

My tires squeal as I speed toward DuPont Circle. I shouldn’t be shocked that there’s still traffic this late, but at least it’s less than rush hour. I really hate DC. If I want to keep working with the Enforcers, I’ll probably stay. But part of me longs to get out to the mountains. Or somewhere that has more trees than people.

Wind whips over the hood of my car and small droplets of rain scatter across my windshield. A few blocks into the city, I hook down a side street to a blockade of Enforcer SUVs. Tyler meets me halfway to the automobile barrier. He looks a lot more worried than he did earlier in the evening. Ogres are big and cause a lot of destruction, but witches and mages are another matter. He’s smart to be scared, especially as a human.

“So, where’s this rogue mage?”

A loud boom makes me jump. All the lights in the general vicinity flicker and the ground shakes, throwing me off balance. This is one powerful mage. Maybe dark magic? My powers shudder inside me, like even they’re affected.

Tyler points over the SUVs. “Just past the blockade, but he’s staying out of sight for now. We’re not exactly sure what he’s doing, but he’s got a lot of power. Or magic.”

“Are you sure it’s a mage? That was some energy. I could feel it …” I struggle to find the words to describe this to a human, but end

up shaking my head. “Never mind. Okay. I’ll head in. Just be ready to have my back.”

Tyler touches my arm. The concern in his eyes makes dread pool in my stomach. “Watch yourself, Cade.”

I nod, then walk past the SUVs. Another rumble rocks the ground, followed by a flash of light. The air thickens as I move closer, the kind of feeling like the atmosphere after a bolt of lightning. Electricity buzzes over my skin, bringing out goosebumps and making the hair on my neck stand on end.

I recognize this block from the news. The office building across the street houses a firm of human lawyers Mom and Dad have been dealing with. They represent a group wanting more controls in place over supernaturals.

This location for a supernatural attack makes more sense. Though these lawyers use official channels, they still spew hate and build fear. This isn’t the right way for a mage to go about expressing frustration, but I can sympathize.

That is, until I see him, and everything in me tenses.

He stands a few feet from the building where the law firm is, arms lifted into the air. Tendrils of what look like electricity arc around him, creating a sphere that crackles and writhes. It’s beautiful and terrifying. My hair lifts in response and another tremor nearly knocks me off my feet. I can see his lips moving and his neck straining with the effort to cast whatever spell this is. Blood marks his cheeks. Definitely dark magic. For the first time since I started working with the Enforcers, I doubt myself.

I’ve never seen anything quite like this and definitely don’t want to get any closer. I can’t make out much of his face, but it doesn’t matter. I focus, and power twists through my muscles and pulses from my skin.

The mage turns, sensing the burst of power. A smile cuts across his pale face. The moving lights create dark shadows beneath his high cheekbones and under his jaw and hollows out his eyes so he looks like an empty skull. Cold fear digs into me. I step back as chills race across my spine. Gritting my teeth, I force myself forward again and throw all my powers of concentration into taking this guy down.

I remember Toby’s betrayal and pour every ounce of fury into another surge of power. For a moment, his glowing ball of energy pulls back. Then there’s a flash and the mage isn’t alone. There are four others standing with him, two on either side. They speak a language I don’t recognize and their chants feel close, like they’re being shouted in my ear instead of from fifty feet away. I grit my teeth and push my power out. I want to call for help, but I have to focus every bit of my energy.

There is a sudden boom as light blasts my vision. I’m thrown backward. Pain erupts at the back of my head. The last thing I see makes no sense. A pair of eyes, red-rimmed and completely black, hovers in front of my face.

Then, nothing.

OFFLINE

Iwake up with a gasp. Did I have a nightmare? I don’t remember one, but my heart is racing and I can’t seem to get enough air. I also can’t sit up or even lift my head. That’s when I hear a rapid beeping like an alarm.

This isn’t my room. Everything is bright white—the walls, the tiled ceiling, the fluorescent lights. A hospital. I’m in a hospital. I recognize the room from movies. I’ve never been in one before. Supernaturals use Healers, not hospitals. If we need anything at all. We aren’t susceptible to most human viruses and many supes have their own innate healing powers.

A nurse rushes in just as my mother leans over my bed. Mom looks tired, the lines around her eyes more pronounced than usual.

“Acadiana, darling. I’m so glad you’re awake.” Her eyes have tears in them. And though my mother cries for almost any charity, she rarely expresses emotion for me.

This is very bad.

My breathing must have sped up because the nurse frowns at the blood pressure cuff on my arm. I stare down at the cuff, tuning out whatever my mother is saying, because I didn’t feel the nurse putting it on. My whole body is numb. That isn’t the right word. I feel heavy, but there is a tingling sensation, almost like when part of your body falls asleep.

“What happened to me? And why am I … here?”

The nurse pushes a button that silences the alarm, and then leaves the room. Mom puts a hand to her mouth. Fascinated, I watch as this strong, powerful woman I’ve looked up to all my life breaks down into sobs. I have seen her give speeches in front of the supernatural and human senates. I watched as she used her power to topple buildings. But I have not once in my life seen her fall apart like this.

My dad rushes into the room, catching Mom before she hits the floor. I can’t see his face as he pulls her into his chest, only his broad back. They’ve both changed out of their dressy clothes they wore to the benefit earlier in the evening. That’s when I notice light through the blinds. It’s morning? Have I been passed out all night?

I know Mom needs comfort. But I can’t help but feel even more confused, isolated, and alone as they embrace while I sit here alone. Being needy is an alien feeling, one I’m not sure how to handle.

I lick my lips. This small movement, at least, I can manage. I try to move my hand and see that I’m able to make my fingers twitch. Focusing further down, I do the same for my toes, then sigh with relief. Whatever else I am, I’m not paralyzed.

A sensation prickles against my arm and I look to see that Dad’s hand is there, squeezing. He has his other arm around Mom, who has pulled herself together, though her lips are still trembling.

“What do you remember?” Dad asks.

I try to unspool my thoughts, moving back through the day. The ogre. Then the club … Toby. I can feel a tightness in my chest thinking of him. I came home, then Tyler called. My eyes snap to my Dad.

“The Enforcers. There was a mage. He had some kind of … electricity or power. Dark magic, I think. I tried to stop him, but something happened.” I furrow my brow and lick my lips again. They feel cracked and dry. “Can I have water?”

“I’ll get it.” Mom nods and leaves Dad’s side to head out into the hallway, I guess to find the nurse and some water. Dad gives me a gentle squeeze. The fact that I can feel it more brings me a small amount of peace. “Anything else you remember?”

I can picture the mage’s smile. His eyes. The blood smeared on his cheeks. Whose blood was that? A cold shudder passes through me. “Just a flash of light and something like a jolt of power. A boom.”

“That’s good, sweetie.”

He strokes my hair back from my face. Good? What is possibly good about this? I’m sure the Enforcers saw everything I did. As though summoned by my thought, Tyler appears in the doorway. When he sees me, a look of shock flashes over his face. His eyes meet mine and he works to even out his features.

“Mr. Blakemore?”

“Tyler. Thanks for coming. Any updates?”

Tyler takes a step across the room, then stops a few feet from my bed. “No, sir.”

“Did the mage escape? What happened?” I ask.

Tyler looks to my father, who nods, then he moves closer to me until I can smell the starchy-clean scent of his uniform. “He blasted you with some kind of spell. We haven’t traced the origin, but we know it was dark magic. By the time we got to you, he was gone. The trail has gone cold.”

I feel a surge of irrational anger, even as I see the way Tyler’s head droops. He probably blames himself. But if I couldn’t have stopped that mage, I doubt he or the other Enforcers could have done anything. Still, it feels unfair that I’m lying here in this bed, Tyler is standing here totally fine, and the mage responsible is still out there.

Another memory slams into me. “He wasn’t alone.”

Tyler looks to my father. I swear I see Dad give a brief shake of his head. “No,” Dad says. “The report says there was only one mage.”

“I’m sure of it. There were five. The one mage started it, but when I came after him, there were suddenly four more.”

I glance between their faces, but I can tell that they don’t believe me. I want to curl my hands into fists, but my fingers only twitch. I know that it sounds unlikely. Group spellcasting is illegal. And there

are far more female witches than mages, so seeing five mages casting together is unheard of. Still, I have no doubts.

“I know what I saw.”

Dad brushes the hair back from my cheek. “You hit your head really hard, which means your memories aren’t reliable. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

My eyes burn. Not reliable? I know what I saw. And I saw it before I hit my head. “No. There were five.”

Tyler swallows hard. I can visibly see his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looks apologetic. Or is that pity? Whatever it is, I hate it. “We only have evidence of one mage.”

“I’m your evidence. I’m telling you now that there were five.” My voice is almost a shout and I realize that the machine next to me is beeping in an alarming way.

Dad nods at the Enforcer. “Thank you, Tyler. That will be all.”

Before leaving the room, Tyler turns back and bows his head. “I’m so sorry, Cade.”

I watch him go, wondering how long it will be before I’m recovered enough to go on another assignment with the Enforcers. Will I even want to? The thought of that mage’s cruel smile makes fear curl low in my gut. And the way the other mages appeared out of nowhere. Suddenly, some of Tyler’s words hit me.

“Tyler said the trail has gone cold. How long has it been?” I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

“Five days.”

Silence fills the room and it’s so heavy. I think for a moment that it might crush me under its weight. Five. Days.

Mom returns with a white disposable cup of water with a bendy straw. She holds it for me while I drink because I still can’t lift my arms. I do not cry. The cold water going down my throat feels better than anything I can remember. I drink until the cup is empty. Mom pats my arm and puts the cup on the tray.

“What’s wrong with me?” The words are hard to say. But I can’t take not knowing anymore.

Mom and Dad are on opposite sides of the bed now, and they exchange a glance over my head. I hate that. For years now, Mom

and Dad have treated me more like an adult. In the supe world, we usually come into our powers during puberty, if not before. Mine were early, when I was five. But the need to control and master our powers makes us grow up faster. We may attend high school, have normal hormones, and the typical teenage attitude, but we are given more responsibility and trust. Like my work with the Enforcers. That look I caught between them only makes me more nervous.

“Please,” I whisper. “Just tell me.”

“We don’t fully know,” Dad says.

I don’t mean to snap, but worry is practically clawing at my throat. “What doyou know? Start there. Or maybe with why I’m at a human hospital, not at home with a Healer.”

Another look exchanged. I sigh, and this time Mom speaks. “Because we don’t know exactly what the mage hit you with, it’s hard to know where to begin treatment. Or how long your recovery will be. The Healers were at a loss.”

“Okayyyyy …” They are still avoiding the one question that now seems incredibly important. “But why a hospital?”

Dad sighs and squeezes my hand. I want to rejoice that I can manage to squeeze back, but until I hear his answer, this dark worry is going to fester. “When the mage hit you with the blast, it knocked you back and you hit your head. But the surge had another effect.” Dad clears his throat and looks at Mom, who nods. Her eyes, though, are filling with tears again.

I bite my lip so hard that I’m sure it will bleed. But I need to feel. Even if what I feel is pain.

Before Dad’s mouth opens, I know what he’s going to say. Enough sensation has returned that I know exactly what the mage did.

“You’re here because you’ve lost your powers.”

My realization the half-second before he said the words is all that keeps me from completely losing it. I may not have my powers, but to master the massive amount of power I held, I had to be just as mentally strong. So, while Mom starts weeping softly and Dad’s hand shakes in mine, I stare up at the lights above me until I see just a bright, burning dot on my vision.

“What’s next? How do I get them back?”

Mom cries harder, and though my admiration for her runs deep, right now I wish that she could pull it together. I hate that I’m having to be my own strength as both my parents fall apart.

“I need to know the plan.”

Dad squeezes my hand, but I pull my fingers away. It’s the most movement I’ve been able to control. I feel a tiny surge of pride, followed quickly by a heavy sense of loss. The last time I had so little ability over simple things like movement, I was a baby. An infant.

A full realization of my situation washes over me with sick dread. Physically, I can hardly move. My powers are gone. Permanently? Temporarily? I have to believe that it’s temporary. “I’m going to be sick.”

The nurse is there suddenly, with a pink plastic tub. Just in time. “Hold her up,” she says in a curt voice.

Dad’s hands lift my shoulders, pressing into my back so I can lean over the tub. Mom holds back my hair as my stomach clenches and sends up all the water I just drank. Then just burning stomach acid. Sweat pours down my face and I hope it hides the tears that I can’t hold back. Though supes don’t tend to get illnesses, I’ve thrown up a few times, thanks to severe cramping during my period. Sadly, that’s one thing that supes still deal with.

I’m a sweaty mess with a sickly-sweet taste in my mouth. The nurse takes away the pink bowl and Dad gently lets me fall back on the pillow. Mom is crying again—did she ever stop?

I want so many things: to be able to vomit without the help of three people. To take a shower and brush my teeth. To reach down for the power I always imagined as being centered in my heart.

“What’s the plan?” I ask again. I have to force my voice to be steady, but I manage it.

“We’re going to run a few more tests here.”

“When can the Healers test me again? To see if my powers are reactivating or whatever.”

I have no idea what I’m saying. This whole losing powers thing? It’s an anomaly. Rarely happens. Some supe kids are never able to

Another random document with no related content on Scribd:

1 quart milk

6 yolks

1¹⁄₄ cups powdered sugar

1-2 pints thick cream

1-2 table-spoons vanilla

Make a custard (see p. 15) with the milk, sugar and yolks. Strain and, when cold, add the cream, flavouring, etc. If the larger quantity of cream has been used add more sugar. Freeze.

The custard can be made with cream instead of milk.

To these two creams, fruit, nuts, pounded macaroons, lemon juice, pounded ginger and rum, and any liqueur, can be added.

Brown Bread Cream Ice

1 quart cream

1 tea-cup brown bread-crumbs

¹⁄₂ lb. sugar

Dry the brown bread and crumble and sift to very fine crumbs. Add them to the cream and sugar. When the sugar has melted, mix well together and freeze.

*Caramel Cream Ice

8 ozs. powdered sugar

6 yolks of eggs

1 pint milk

1 pint cream

1 dessert-spoon vanilla

Put the sugar in an iron sauce-pan with a very little water, and leave it until it becomes a rich brown. Let it become cold. Pound it and add the milk and yolks. Stir the mixture in a double boiler until it thickens. Strain, and when cold add the vanilla and cream.

*Chestnut Cream Ice

6 ozs. chestnuts

10 ozs. powdered sugar

1¹⁄₂ pints cream

Yolks of 8 eggs

1 dessert-spoon vanilla

¹⁄₂ pint whipped cream

Boil, peel and rub through a fine sieve some chestnuts, measuring after they have been sifted. Beat all well together for ten minutes. Stir over the fire in a double boiler till thick. Strain through a coarse hair sieve. Add another ¹⁄₂ pint rich whipped cream. Freeze in a mould.

Coffee Cream Ice

2 ozs. best whole coffee, green or roasted

4 yolks of eggs

1 quart cream

¹⁄₂ lb. powdered sugar

Mix all together. Put in a double boiler and cook until the mixture thickens but does not boil. Strain through a sieve and freeze.

Fruit Cream Ice

To a cream ice (No. I. or II.) add, when partly frozen, any wellsweetened ripe or tinned fruits cut into small pieces. Beat well together, and cover tightly to freeze.

*Strawberry Cream Ice

¹⁄₂ pint strawberry juice

1 quart cream

Powdered sugar

Mash a sufficient quantity of strawberries to fill, when put through a sieve, a ¹⁄₂ pint measure. Add them to the cream. Add sugar until the mixture is very sweet. When the sugar is melted, freeze.

Tutti Frutti

1 quart cream ice (I. or II.)

2 table-spoons maraschino

¹⁄₂ lb. candied fruit, finely chopped

Add the maraschino to the cream. When partly frozen, add the fruit and beat well together. Cover closely.

Water Ices

Syrup

(For Water Ices, etc.)

3 lbs. loaf sugar

Mix the egg with the water. Add the sugar. Let it melt. Boil and skim until perfectly clear. Set aside to cool.

*Cherry Water Ice

1 pint cherry juice

¹⁄₂ pint water

1 pint syrup (see above)

1 tea-spoon lemon juice

Prepare the juice by pounding the cherries and putting them through a sieve, adding the water gradually whilst doing this so that all the juice may be carried through. Add the syrup and lemon juice.

Frozen Macedoine of Fruit with Champagne

Carefully prepare some fruit as for fruit salad (see p. 33), sweetening it well with sugar. Pour over the fruit a bottle of champagne. Leave for four hours. Pack in ice for two hours. Serve in glasses.

*Frozen Punch

1 pint lemon juice

1 pint syrup

¹⁄₂ pint water

1 gill brandy

1 gill rum

5 whites of eggs

Mix the lemon juice, syrup, water, brandy and rum together. Put in a freezer. When nearly frozen add the whites beaten to a stiff froth. When well mixed serve in glasses.

Fruit Water Ice

1 quart fruit

1 cup cold water

2 cups powdered sugar

3 whites of eggs

Crush the fruit and rub it through a sieve. Add the sugar. Stir until it is dissolved. Add the water and unbeaten whites. Freeze in a freezing machine, turning the mixture until it is frozen.

Lemon Water Ice

6 lemons

¹⁄₂ lb. lump sugar

1 quart water

1 lb. powdered sugar

Whites of 4 eggs

Rub off the peel of the lemons on to lump sugar. Make a syrup with the lump sugar, powdered sugar and water (see p. 151). Add the juice of the lemons. Strain. When cool add the whites beaten to a froth, and freeze.

Maraschino Punch

¹⁄₂ lb. powdered sugar

1 quart water

¹⁄₂ pint maraschino

1 lemon

1 orange

Make a syrup of the sugar and water (see p. 151). When cold add the maraschino and the juice of the lemon and orange. Strain. Freeze.

Orange Water Ice

1 table-spoon gelatine

¹⁄₂ cup boiling water

1 cup sugar

1 cup cold water

1 pint orange juice

Soak the gelatine. Dissolve it in the boiling water When dissolved add the sugar, cold water and orange juice. Stir till the sugar is dissolved. Strain. Freeze.

*Pine-Apple Water Ice

1¹⁄₄ lbs. pine apple

¹⁄₂ pint water

1 pint prepared syrup

2 lemons

Grate and mash one pound of pine-apple, fresh if possible. Add the syrup (see p. 151), the juice of the lemons and the water. Put through a sieve. Cut the rest of the pine-apple into very small pieces. Stir it into the mixture and freeze.

Raspberry Water Ice

1 pint juice

1 pint sugar

1 pint water

Juice of 2 lemons

1 table-spoon gelatine

Follow directions for orange water ice.

*Strawberry Punch

1 quart strawberries

2¹⁄₂ cups powdered sugar

³⁄₄ cup sweet white wine or champagne

1¹⁄₂ cups water

Put the strawberries in a dish and cover with the sugar Let them stand for an hour. Put through a hair sieve. Add the wine and water. Put into a freezer. Stir till well mixed, then leave till frozen.

Iced Puddings, Mousses, Parfaits, etc.

9 yolks of eggs

³⁄₄ lb. powdered sugar

1¹⁄₂ pints milk

1 pint whipped cream

Make a custard (see p. 15) of the yolks, milk and quarter a pound of sugar. Strain it and set to cool.

Stir half a pound sugar over the fire in an iron saucepan until a rich brown. Add a little water and boil for three minutes. Beat the custard over ice for ten minutes. Add the syrup slowly and the whipped cream. Beat well together. Fill a mould with it. Cover with a sheet of paper and a lid. Pack in ice and salt. Leave for an hour.

*Caramel Mousse

*Chestnut Mousse

6 ozs. prepared chestnuts

6 ozs. powdered sugar

1 tea-spoon vanilla

¹⁄₂ pint whipped cream

Boil, peel and pound some chestnuts. Put them through a fine sieve. Take six ounces of sifted chestnuts and mix with the sugar and vanilla. Beat till smooth. Add the cream and more sugar if required. Pour into a mould. Cover with a lid and seal the joints with a paste of flour and water. Pack in ice and leave for one hour.

*Frozen Fruit

1 tin apricots or peaches

2 cups powdered sugar

1 quart water

Cut the fruit in small pieces. Add the sugar and water. When the sugar is dissolved, freeze.

One pint whipped cream can be added to the fruit when partly frozen.

Any tinned or fresh fruit can be used. Apricots, peaches, pineapple and strawberries are best.

Nesselrode Pudding

40 chestnuts

4 yolks

¹⁄₂ cup powdered sugar

1 pint milk

¹⁄₂ pint cream

1 tea-spoon vanilla

¹⁄₄

lb. shredded candied pine apple

¹⁄₂ tea-cup maraschino

Make a custard of the yolks, milk and sugar (see p. 15). Boil, peel, pound and put through a fine sieve the chestnuts. Mix with the cold custard and vanilla and put in the freezer. When nearly firm add the fruit, cream and maraschino (this may be omitted). Beat well together and leave until frozen. Garnish with angelica and candied cherries.

*Parfait (Chocolate)

1 pint milk

10 yolks

¹⁄₂ lb. powdered sugar

¹⁄₄ lb. chocolate

1 dessert-spoon vanilla

¹⁄₂ pint cream

Make a custard of the milk, yolks and sugar (see p. 15). Melt the chocolate with a very little water. Add it to the custard. Put through a fine sieve. Stir over ice till cold. Add the whipped cream and beat well together. Pack in ice and leave two hours.

*Parfait (Coffee)

1 pint cream

1 cup powdered sugar

¹⁄₂ cup strong clear coffee

Mix together. Whip on ice. Take off the froth and put into a freezer or mould. Do not touch it. Leave for two hours.

*Strawberry Cream

¹⁄₂ lb. sugar

1 pint water

1 quart strawberries

¹⁄₂ pint whipped cream

Boil the sugar and water for half an hour. Add the strawberries. Simmer gently for quarter of an hour. Take off the fire and cool. When cold put in a freezer and stir occasionally till frozen. When frozen stir in the cream, which can be slightly sweetened.

*Strawberry Mousse

1 lb. strawberries

1 cup powdered sugar

1¹⁄₂ pints cream

Crush the strawberries and put them through a fine hair sieve. Put in an enamelled sauce-pan with a little sugar and stir continually over the fire till well mixed. Pour into a basin and set it on ice, stirring until it is cold. Whip the cream with the rest of the sugar. Mix with the fruit. Line a mould with paper Fill it. Cover it with a round of paper and a lid, which should be sealed with a paste made of flour and water. Pack in ice and leave for an hour.

*Vanilla and Chocolate Soufflé

16 yolks of eggs

1 cup syrup

1 cup water

1 dessert-spoon vanilla

1 pint whipped cream

Chocolate

Beat the yolks, syrup (see p. 151) and water together thoroughly. Pass through a fine sieve. Put into a double boiler. Stir until thick but do not let it boil. Warm a bowl. Pour the custard into it. Add the vanilla. Beat for five minutes. Stir in the whipped cream and pour into

a large mould. Pack in ice and leave for two hours. Uncover the mould and pour on to it a cup of cold melted chocolate flavoured with a little vanilla. Replace the cover and leave another two hours.

Cream Ice Enclosed in a Hot Soufflé

Make a soufflé of the required flavour in a large soufflé dish. Have ready a cream ice, frozen stone hard, about four inches less in diameter than the soufflé dish. When the soufflé is nearly baked, take it out of the oven, remove the brown top, and a little of the soft centre. Put in the ice, cover with the soft mixture and the brown cover and put back into the oven for a few moments. Considerable deftness and great quickness are necessary if this sweet is to be successful.

Sugars

Coloured Sugars

On to some powdered sugar drop a few drops of any colouring. Stir well and quickly so that the sugar may be evenly coloured. When dry, crush between paper if necessary. Keep in a tin in a dry place.

Orange and Lemon Sugar

¹⁄₂ lb. loaf sugar 3 oranges or lemons

Pare off the yellow rind of oranges, tangerines or lemons very finely. Let it dry thoroughly. Pound it in a mortar with the sugar. Pass through a fine sieve and keep in a dry place.

Or the rind may be rubbed off on lumps of sugar, which must then be dried and very finely crushed.

Sugared Fruits

White of egg

Powdered sugar

Strawberries, cherries, grapes, red or white currants

Beat the white of an egg till frothy Dip each fruit into it and then roll it in powdered sugar. Place on white paper and dry in a very slow oven.

THE END

Index

Albemarle Pudding, 66.

Almonds, to blanch, 4.

” to pound, 4

Almond Soufflé, 62.

” Tartlets, 129.

Apple and Apricot Charlotte, 66.

Apple Custard, 67.

” Pie, 137.

Apples, Baked, 26.

” Stewed, 29

Apple and Tapioca Pudding, 7.

Bain Marie, 3.

Baked Apples, 26.

” Bananas, 26.

Bavarian Cream, 98.

Biscuit Paste, 127.

Boiled Puddings, 2

Bread and Butter Pudding, 7.

Bread Pudding, 8.

” and Rum Pudding, 68.

Brown Bread Cream Ice, 147.

Butter, How to beat, 5.

Calf’s Foot Jelly, 91.

Caramel Mousse, 157

Charlotte Russe, 110.

Chartreuse of Orange, 100.

” Strawberries, 101.

Cherry Pudding, 68.

” Water Ice, 151.

Chestnut Cream, 102.

” ” Ice, 148

” Mousse, 157.

Chocolate Bavarois, 103.

” Blanc Mange, 110.

” Cream Tartlets, 130.

” to melt, 3.

” Parfait, 159

” Soufflé, 55, 62, 63.

Christmas Plum Pudding, 69, 70.

Citron Puddings, 73.

Claret Jelly, 92.

Cocoanut Pie, 137.

Coffee Cream Ice, 148.

” Parfait, 159

” Soufflé, 55.

Coloured Sugars, 164.

Cornflour Pudding, 111.

Cranberry Jelly, 92.

Cream and Fruit Tartlets, 131.

” Ices, 146-149.

” Ice with hot Soufflé, 161.

Creams, 98-108.

Cream Soufflé, 64.

” Tartlets, 130.

” Whip, 112.

” to whip, 3.

Crème aux Fruits, 103

” Brûlée, 22.

” Hollandaise, 104.

” Renversée, 23.

Currants, to clean, 2.

Custard Pie, 138.

Custards, Baked, 20-24.

” Boiled, 15-17

Danish Pudding, 112.

Dutch Apple Cake, 70.

Fig Pudding, 71.

Figs, Stewed, 30.

Flaming Peaches, 27.

Foam Omelet, 51.

French Pancakes, 38.

Friar’s Omelet, 71.

Fritters, 42-47.

Frozen Fruit, 158.

” Macedoine of Fruit, 151.

” Punch, 152

Fruit Cream Ice, 148.

” Fritters, 43.

” Salad, 33.

” Stewed, 28.

” Tartlets, 132.

” Water Ice, 152.

Garnish for Custards, 14

Gâteau de Riz, 9.

Gelatine, 3.

” Jelly, 91.

Gelée Fouettée, 93.

Ginger Pudding, 72.

” ”, 113.

Gooseberry Fool, 113

” Pudding, 72.

Grated Pine-apple, 27.

Henriettes, 44.

Italian Mousse, 73.

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