Black Sun Academy: Ghost Hunter Book 2
CHAPTER 3

I drove for a day and a half before the numbness dissipated from my mind and I was truly able to process what had happened. I couldn’t even tell you where I stopped, when I stopped, how long I may have stayed stopped, if I ate, no clue. I felt as if I were floating in a grey fog until I found myself driving into New Orleans. Shortly after crossing the border the exhaustion finally hit me. Pulling into the first hotel I spotted. My mind did its best to not process anything going on around me as I made my way into the hotel. It was as if my brain were on autopilot, for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you the name of the hotel, what it looked like, how safe the steps I walked up were or what my room number was. All I knew for certain was that it was really dark out as I entered the room, tossed the keys, room and car onto the television stand, crawled into the bed and passed out.

Waking up was the worst thing that could have happened to me. If Alina is gone, then what reason is there for me to be breathing? I feel like half the person I was just two days ago. An empty hollow shell void of all feeling except one, excruciating pain.

Alina has been gone for three whole days now and I still can’t admit it to myself. I haven’t moved from the hotel bed except to go to the bathroom for a solid twenty-four hours now. I had shut my phone off the moment I walked through the hotel door and hadn’t bothered to turn it on since. I can’t bear to talk with anyone when I hurt this much. I don’t want their comforting words, useless words that won’t help ease the anguish in my heart because no matter what is said, she is still gone and there is nothing that can be done to bring her back to me.

So instead, I opted to wallow in self-pity. I put earbuds in, so I can listen to Alina’s favorite playlist on my I-pod that she had downloaded and let my mind continue to stay numb. Random flashes of memories flitter and flash behind my closed eyes and I sigh. Our little road trip to the Sturgis Library, me, Chris, Dev and Riley singing at the top of our lungs, obnoxiously so, trying our hardest to make Ali laugh. The night we all went to the movies, her wearing my black leather jacket because she was cold, and how adorable she looked in it as it swallowed her up. Making out with her in her hallway after we came back from the movie. Our last night together when we allowed our bodies to become one and in doing so, our magic became one as well as our souls.

I’m not sure how many times I hit repeat when her most favorite song comes on. As the song flowed through the speakers of my earbuds, I sang along with the tune, allowing the tears to trickle down my cheeks freely. The band, Emarosa, sang a song titled ‘Don’t cry’. I replayed it over and over again because it was the song playing when she and I had our first and only dance at her elaborate 18th birthday celebration, right before her magic decided to make itself known. I remember watching her descend the staircase and how she truly looked like a princess in her Cinderella costume she had on. She had wanted a costume party even though hunters weren’t known to celebrate Halloween.

It took me a moment to get the courage to walk over to her where I caught up to her just as she was exiting the dance floor. Ali had to look at me for a second before she realized it was me in the Zorro costume. A costume I picked out specifically because of the mask that sat snug against my face and the large, brimmed hat I had on my head which helped to cover my black hair and cast a shadow over my appearance. The smile on her lips when I turned her to face me, took my breath away, leaving me speechless. I had nearly told her right then that I was in love with her. How was I so lucky to get to be her soul mate?

The playlist ends, and I decide to shut it off. Sitting up I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and then I just sit there, blankly staring at the eggshell-colored wall in front of me. I have absolutely no clue as to what my next move should be. Running my hands through my hair several times, I finally decided to slip on the spare pair of sweats I had in my car and go for a run. Being from the Northern East Coast, I am shocked to walk out onto the sidewalks of Royal St., and into warm weather in the beginning of December. For the first time since being inside the hotel I am stepping outside and able to see the place I had made my home for the past several days.

I take in the exterior and notice a black flag hung from black wrought iron fencing that decorates the second-floor balcony on the street side. Two large letters adorn the flag in white, HR and then in smaller print just below it, the words, Hotel Royal. Just by looking at the place I can tell there is history here. If I had to guess, I would say the place was built in the early half of the 19th century, but the feel of the place would make me think the place wasn’t originally meant to be a hotel, possibly someone’s home when constructed in the 1800’s.

Pulling back my focus to the task at hand, I do some quick stretches, and then start down the sidewalk. The feeling of my feet hitting the cement is amazing and I continue on. I am zoned out for the first 15 minutes or so and not really paying attention to my surroundings but as I start to allow myself to look around, I notice all the shops at hand. New Orleans is a very old, spirited town and with that being said, fake witches and their shops are in abundance.

I see many shops where you can have your palm read, or your future known, places to purchase crystal balls and crystals. I shake my head and laugh. Are people really that gullible? As I cross the street to head back to the hotel, one shop in particular catches my eye. Well, not the shop so much as the symbol on the shop door. If I recall correctly, it is the symbol of the Night-Sky Coven. We are taught at a young age about all the Covens across America and their symbols associated with them and I recognize the Night Sky symbol because it was so unique compared to others we learned about.

Intrigued to see a real Coven symbol displayed for all to see, I decided to go inside and have a look around. Upon entering I see a raised counter with a cash register and nick knacks decorating it. Behind said register is a girl with pixie like features, beautiful long wavy red-hair, blue eyes, slightly pale, porcelain-like skin who I’m guessing is close in age to me, 19 or 20. She honestly looks like if you would place her upon a shelf, she could pass for a China doll. And though she is quite pretty, she has nothing on Ali.

“Hi,” she says to me smiling from ear to ear. Lifting her arms, she makes a grand gesture of throwing her arms wide before saying, “welcome to the Shadow Light shop.” I offer a half-hearted grin and start to look around. “Is there anything I can help you with today?” She questions pleasantly with a twinkle in her eyes. I just shake my head. I didn’t come in here to strike up a conversation. I just thought I’d see if I could replace any herbal remedies that could help mend the emptiness inside me.

The walls of the store are painted a vibrant purple, I noticed randomly as I wandered around. I continue to walk through the store aimlessly to see if anything catches my eye, piques my interest but most of the stuff I’m looking at are cheesy nick-knacks specifically designed for tourists that come through. Laughing to myself I can’t help but think how dumb humans must be.

Suddenly I felt someone touching my arm. Spinning around quickly, I see the girl standing in front of me. Her name tag has Raegan etched on to it and as I go to ask what she wants; I say her name. She is no taller than 5’4 which means she is staring directly at my chest at the moment. I have to step back about a foot from her so that I can look her in the face; “what can I do for you, Raegan?”

She offers the same pretty smile as when I first entered the store, “you’re a witch, aren’t you?” She gazes up at me and I notice that the blue of her eyes are many shades of said color.

I am caught off guard by her question and stare at her dumbfounded briefly before I am actually able to answer her. “Um, yeah,” I look around to make sure no one can hear us talking. “How do you know?”

She shrugs, “I can feel your aura. How come your soul is so unbalanced?”

I evade answering her question with one of my own, “that symbol on the door there, that’s the Night-Sky Coven emblem, right?” Her pretty smile consumes her face as she nods her head excitedly and then asks about my Coven. “I’m part of the Silver-Heart Coven out in Cape Cod, well the Church of Covens and Ambrosial City. I apologize, it has become second nature to claim I’m from the Cape, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to the East Coast before, and I’ve always wanted to visit Ambrosial City,” her voice sounds wistful as she states this fact. “Though I do have some family that lives out there somewhere. Do you know any Meade’s?” I laugh in response and then shake my head no. I replace it funny when people assume that because someone lives in the same region as the people, they know that one must automatically know the other.

“Hmm, oh well, back to the question at hand. Why is your soul so unbalanced?” She waits expectantly for me to answer but I can’t. I go to speak but the ache in my heart is way too intense, as though someone is clenching it, squeezing it tight. Instead of saying anything I clutch at my chest because I can’t physically reach my heart, and then I turn on my heel and walk out the door.

Jogging back to the hotel, I let myself back into my room, and fully dressed, collapsed on the bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.