A Charmed Mind: Mage Paranormal Romance (Illusions Academy Book 1) Read online

  A Charmed Mind

  Illusions Academy: Book One

  Copyright Kaylin R. Peyerk

  Description

  Welcome to Illusions Academy where the males are sexy, the magic is unpredictable, and nothing is as it seems.

  My name is Elise, and I'm about to enroll in my first year at Illusions Academy, the most prestigious school in the country for mages like me. I've known all about magic from a young age thanks to my parents, who are a part of the Mage Grand Council, the governing body for all magic dealings. Because of that, everyone expects me to be one of the greatest mages of all time, but I have a secret.

  My magic is weak at best, and refuses to answer my call at worst. I'm hoping that the teachers at the academy can pull it out of me, but someone else does instead: my childhood rival, Demetri. He's one year ahead of me, and whenever he touches me an explosion of magical power is left in his wake. How can he of all people be the only one to help me? And how do I convince him to?

  On top of that, mages begin dying of a mysterious magical poison, and no one knows where it came from. The only thing that's clear is that it won't stop anytime soon. Can I harness my magic, stop a murderer, and keep Demetri at arms lengths all while keeping a decent grade point average?

  Chapter One

  Shame slices through my chest like a knife, leaving me raw. It’s a feeling that I’m familiar with, and there’s only one person in the world who can make me feel this way.

  My mother. As usual.

  “You have got to be kidding me. You’re due at orientation tomorrow and you haven’t picked up your uniforms yet?” She pauses, throwing her hands through the air and sighing dramatically, “They’ve been ready for over a week! Really, Elise, you’re usually more responsible than this. I’ll send your father.”

  “I apologize mother, I was gathering everything else you said was required for the academy, and the uniforms slipped my mind. Why can’t Gaston get them?” I ask, barely glancing up from the spell book in my lap.

  “Gaston?” she scoffs. “He’s busy running errands that matter Elise. Don’t be naive. As the head of the mage grand council. . .”

  I cut her off, “You have responsibilities that surpass parenting me. I know, you’ve said it before. I’m eighteen now mom, it’s fine. All mages become adults at this time, but I did it long before now. Sue me for making one simple mistake.”

  She glares, arching one beautiful eyebrow, and I try not to show how much it unnerves me. My mother is the picture of what a female mage should be. She has glossy honey brown hair, deep emerald eyes, porcelain skin, and legs that make men fall to their knees before her. I, on the other hand, take after my father. My hair is slate black and always fizzy in tight ringlets no matter how much product is put into it, I have deep green eyes, and tan skin. I’m not ugly, but no amount of attraction magic could make me look like her. The only saving grace is my height, a towering five feet eleven inches, with long legs that match my mother’s.

  “Don’t try to make yourself out to be a helpless victim. You’re the daughter of the two most prestigious mages in existence, you live in an immaculate New York City penthouse, and you’re set up to become one of the greatest mages of all time.”

  I have to physically stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Yes, mother. I apologize for my childish behavior.”

  She nods, not registering the slight bit of sarcasm lining my words. “I accept your apology. Now, make sure all of your suitcases are out in the hall by seven. Gaston is coming by to load them into the car tonight. That way you can leave for the academy first thing in the morning, leaving by seven should give you enough time to get settled in before orientation at nine.”

  “Yes mother,” I reply, finally setting my textbook down to look up at her.

  She is smiling, and the sight takes my breath away. My mother is a woman of great power, which, and I don’t mean to be cliché, comes with great responsibility. She is a person with worry lines, stress lines, and the like. Half the time I forgive her for her brute behavior, just because she has the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, but the other half. . . Well, that’s a bit more complicated. Most people love their mother unconditionally, and while I’d like to say that I feel the same way, I just don’t.

  “Well, you’ll do great, I know it in my heart. Good luck, Elise,” she says awkwardly before leaving the room, a hug being completely out of the question.

  Our relationship is hard at best, and downright unbearable at worst. The crushing weight of her high expectations that I continuously fail is a bitter reminder that I’m unworthy of being her daughter. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. If she knew my secret, she would have disowned me years ago.

  I’m a barren mage, at least, I’m pretty sure that I am.

  It’s the reason why I do so much research. The only way I can complete spells is through human means. Only true mages can create something out of nothing, while humans are forced to sacrifice parts of themselves to do even the simplest of spells. Blood, memories, hair. Those are some of the ways I’ve done it myself. Thankfully mages aren’t allowed to practice magic until enrolling at an academy of their skill level at the age of eighteen.

  Which is where I’m going tomorrow.

  The New York Institute of Magical Ability, otherwise known as Illusions Academy by the students, only accepts mages with a tested skill level of five or higher. The most prestigious magical academy in the United States. I was accepted by birth right alone, the academy had waived my entrance exam. I almost wished they had forced me to complete it. Then my secret would be out in the open, and I’d finally be free. Even if I’d end up homeless.

  I flop back onto my bed, sighing loudly just as my door opens up again. My father is framed in the doorway, that awkward grin on his face. He’s the only reason I’ve survived this house for eighteen years. While my mother has been royalty for her entire life, my dad had risen there through ability and brilliance alone. He was born in a normal middle class mage family, but tested for Illusions Academy just like everyone does who lives in New York state. When his scores came back his mother had nearly fainted. He scored a nine out of ten in magical ability. Something that hadn’t been seen in hundreds of years.

  The academy did everything they could to recruit him, but he ended up going to one closer to home in order to care for his family since his father had passed away. He’s the only living council member that had an education from somewhere other than Illusions Academy. And a half rate school at that, it’s not even open anymore. He came from humble beginnings, fought tooth and nail for his family, and still became the co-leader of the mage council. Through it all he has remained true to himself and his roots. He’s not only my role model, but the beacon of hope for all lower class mage families.

  “Hey dad. What’s up?” I ask.

  He ambles into the room, running one hand through his wayward curls, his nervous tick. “I came to check on you before you head off to the academy tomorrow. Are you nervous? Excited? Both?”

  He sits on the edge of the bed, still smiling down at me. “Ah, I don’t know. Nervous I guess. Everyone there will be expecting so much from me. I almost wish I had chosen a different school.”

  He laughs. “Oh firecracker, you know your mother would have never let you attend anywhere else. Despite my background, she considers you royalty like her.”

  “I know,” I reply before grasping his hand.

  We sit in silence together, watching the cars go by outside my window, and admiring the sparkling view of nighttime New York. It’s not awkward. We often do
this together when my father needs a minute away from my mother's constant strategizing. When he comes in with a book and two cups of tea I know he’s had a long day. We both love to read, and enjoy the silence while my mother hates both. It’s always been nice to know that we’re very much alike in that way.

  “Do you think I’ll succeed?” I murmur.

  “Of course I do, even if you’re not the greatest mage in history as everyone says you’ll be. Whether you have an ability level of ten or one, you’re still my firecracker and I love you. Got that?”

  “Got it. I love you too, Dad.”

  He leans in for a hug and I sit up to throw myself into his chest. He’s always known exactly what to say, even when he doesn’t know the full story. Not one soul knows that I’m the magical equivalent of a lemon, and yet, he still reassured me through my fear. That’s what a parent should do. What I wish my mother had done. Nevermind that.

  It doesn’t bode well to long for things that you cannot change.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning I start the day by running late, waking up at six forty five. A freshly pressed uniform is lying across my bed waiting for me after my shower. Gaston probably put it there, his way of helping me to stay on schedule. I send him a silent thank you as I rush to get dressed, already resenting the plaid monstrosity. At the bottom of the pile is a maple crunch bar, my favorite breakfast snack. At that moment I know it wasn’t Gaston, but my father, sending me off with one last act of kindness.

  I slip it into my pocket along with my phone before rushing out of the already empty penthouse. The elevator at the end of the hall is being held open by Gaston, who looks less than pleased at my tardiness. As my mother’s personal assistant he’s a very busy man, so I’m sure I’ve already messed up his full schedule for the day. I wince as I slip past him into the elevator.

  “I’m sorry for being a bit late, Gaston.”

  He steps in, turning his back to me in order to press the button for the lobby. “That’s alright. It was only a few minutes,” he says politely.

  We ride the rest of the way in silence, and as soon as the elevator pings open he walks briskly toward the double doors, holding them open for me. When I’m through, the driver has the backseat of the SUV open, allowing me to slide in without even stopping. Gaston hops into the front and we’re off in less than a minute since leaving my house, effectively correcting the timeline. I should have known Gaston had it all set up, even accounting for my tardiness.

  The dorms of Illusions Academy are less than two miles from my parents penthouse, making the drive short enough for Gaston to begin unloading my things. The driver is recruited to help as well, bringing my boxes of things toward the elegant brick building. Other students mingling outside watch as people haul my things for me, and out of a brand new SUV no less. There’s no doubt that I’m being judged right now which is fine with me. The less people that want to be my friend the better. It was hard enough hiding my lack of magic from my parents, let alone strangers.

  I follow along after Gaston, carrying a light box just so I look like I’m doing something. He knows exactly which dorm I’m housed in before I do, room sixteen on the second floor. It’s the final room at the end of the hall, the one with a circular window nook and an extra-large living room. I can practically hear my mother's voice in my head, only the best for my daughter. Gaston takes the liberty of choosing the room closest to the wall of windows which he knows I’d prefer.

  It’s simple with plain walls, a queen bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and one chair. All of the furniture is the same color, a white so pristine that I can hardly believe it had been used before. But then, a thought occurs to me. My mother probably bought new furniture for my room. I turned to ask Gaston, only to find a girl standing in the doorway.

  She’s the complete opposite of me. Straight blonde hair that’s almost white, sky blue eyes, and freckles smattered across her cheeks. This must be my roommate, and for the life of me, I can’t remember the name my mother told me last week. Sara? Paige? Would it be rude to ask?

  “Hello, my name is Elise,” I say.

  The girl tilts her head, “Hello Elise. My name is Sage.”

  Ah! I knew I was close. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Are you really the chancellor's daughter?” she asks.

  “Yes, I am. I apologize for coming on orientation day rather than move in week. My parents. . .”

  She cuts me off, “You don’t have to explain. I’m sure your family is very busy. I’m honored to meet you.”

  An awkwardness fills the air that I’m not sure how to remedy, but thankfully Gaston and my driver come back into the dorm room, forcing her to move out of the way. Gaston glances at Sage on his way back into the room, dismissing her almost instantly. They set the boxes down along the wall, the only space left. The amount of things my mother insisted I bring makes me cringe. It will take forever to unpack.

  “You’re all set. Your mother scheduled the maid to come during orientation day and unpack. Your room should be set up before you come back tonight, along with the fridge being fully stocked,” Gaston huffs, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  Embarrassment makes my face flush pink, “That’s not necessary. I can. . .”

  He gives me a look, silencing me. His glare is almost as effective as my mothers. If either of them order something to be done, it’s done, no questions or exceptions. Protesting was futile at best, but I had to try. Oh well, I’ll be marked as the stuck up rich girl like I always am. Usually I’m fine with playing the part because it keeps people at arm’s length, but this is the first time I’ll be around people my own age that don’t despise me. It’d be nice to at least have close acquaintances.

  “Well, we will see you on parents day in a month. Until then, behave and do well.”

  He clasps my shoulder, giving it a squeeze before walking out just like that. It leaves a hollow feeling in my chest, and I wish it were my dad seeing me off here even though I know it can’t be. Sages come back into my room, this time even sitting on the edge of the bed, looking around.

  “Your room is bigger than mine,” She says.

  “Then why didn’t you choose this one before me?” I ask, sitting down beside her.

  “There was a clear indication it wasn’t up for grabs. My room is full of old wooden furniture that looks worn, this stuff, she says, gesturing around her, “is brand new and classy. Only one person could afford or be allowed to remodel a dorm room.”

  “Elise Peterson,” I finished for her.

  She nods. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “I’m sorry about this,” I sigh.

  “Don’t be, it’s your birthright.”

  We look at each other then, and she’s smiling. I give a tentative one back before an alarm buzzes in my pocket. The pre-programmed calendar my mother manages for me, or rather Gaston does, is telling me that orientation starts in ten minutes. Sage leans over my shoulder to look and laughs at the reminder flashing across the screen.

  “What? You can’t remember simple stuff?” she asks while leading me out of the dorm room and down the hall.

  “It’s my mother’s doing. My entire life is on a schedule of her making,” I mutter.

  Sage looks back at me with a look of pity on her face. “Ah, that sucks. I’m sorry I asked. It kind of makes me feel better about not being you. So thanks.”

  “You’re welcome?”

  We lapse into silence as we move into the flood of first years all going to the same place for orientation. Sage grips my upper arm so we’re not separated, and I can feel her inner magic spark against my own. Hers is purple in color, and it makes me smile. The color goes perfectly with her white hair and blue eyes. It makes me wonder what color my true magic is. I’ve never seen it. Will she see mine like I see hers? I glance at her, but she gives no indication of noticing that I’m a magical lemon. Maybe seeing other people’s magic is a trait I got from my parents' power. If so, that’d be the only inkling I got from them.


  Sage drags me to the front of the auditorium and another group of girls waves her over. When they spot me trailing after her, their eyes go wide with recognition. I’m not surprised that they know me, my family is often exploited in tabloids across the city. Even though we’re primarily witches, my parents are also very rich. Through the ownership of a successful media company that neither of them have set foot in in years.

  Sage introduces me, and I give a half-hearted wave in response to their awe. There’s nothing worse than being treated like a celebrity because of my parents. I’d rather people make their own impression of me, you know, treat me like a person with thoughts and feelings. Funny how that’s hard to find nowadays. We take our seats when the high pitched whine of a microphone splits our ears.

  An older woman is standing in the middle of the stage, smiling brightly. “Hello new students! As the dean of The New York Institute of Magical Ability I’d like to say thank you for choosing our program. We’re lucky to teach you all, and trust me, we’re looking forward to it!”

  She pauses and the crowd applauds politely.

  “Today is all about getting acquainted with your schedule, making friends, and meeting upperclassmen. Each of you will be paired with a second year student for a tour, and that student will show you the campus. In order to get that started, I’ll hand the mic to the second year president, Demetri Valkyrie.”

  The crowd roars as he walks out on stage, but the only thing I do is slide lower into my seat. His name echoes through my mind, mocking me. Demetri Valkyrie isn’t a name that I’ve heard in quite some time. We knew each other when we were younger, our parents are friends. But we lost touch when our respective families stopped forcing us to play together. And good riddance, I hate him. That hatred only boils now by looking at how handsome he’s become since the last time I saw him.

  Sage leans closer, squealing in my ear, “Isn’t he hot?”