Urban Mystic Academy: Final Project (A Supernatural Academy Series Book 5) Read online

  Urban Mystic Academy-Final Project

  Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Copyright © 2020 by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously or are entirely fictional.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Rebecca Frank of Bewitchingbookcovers.com

  Dubhdara Publishing

  www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com

  Contents

  Praise for Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Title page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Sample of Legend Hunter

  Praise for Jennifer Rose McMahon

  “McMahon's excellent paranormal mystery. Teen and adult readers alike will be clamoring for the sequel."

  Publishers Weekly Starred Review

  ”Engaging, beautifully written scenes, and idyllic descriptions keep the tale moving at a quick pace. The characters are engaging and they draw a person in to this tale of adventure and intrigue. Adrenaline-fueled action and enough twists and turns to keep even the most astute readers on their toes, this is a captivating story with a heroine who is forcefully engaging."

  InD'tale Magazine

  ”As Chieftain of The O'Malley Clan I am always interested in anything to do with Granuaile, our very famous Pirate Queen ancestor. Jennifer's novel captures the connection with the past which we treasure in Ireland. The Irish landscape, contemporary social life, the Irish language, and romance are woven into this fantasy story about Maeve Grace O'Malley and her quest to solve her 'Awake Dreams'. I am certainly looking forward to the sequel. More BOHERMORE please!"

  Sarah Kelly, O'Malley Clan Chieftain 2017

  URBAN MYSTIC ACADEMY-FINAL PROJECT

  by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  This story was written during Covid-19 quarantine and is dedicated to those on the front lines keeping us safe. Thank you for your bravery and your true superpowers.

  Chapter 1

  My tingling senses blurred together, narrowing into one fine point as the reality of our new situation sank in—we were dead.

  Death was the only valid explanation for how we had become trapped in this dead-calm of limbo.

  Now, only moments after finally finding him, Shane was no longer the only ghost among us. We seemed to have all suffered the same fate, lost in the abyss of nothingness.

  My team of loyal UMAs, the ones who defiantly snuck through the portal with me, had focused sharply on righting the wrongs of the past. But they stared now without expression, all doomed to the same torture of endless oblivion.

  Huddled together in the vibrating portal, surrounded by dense fog and deafening silence, we were lost in time—trapped somewhere between the past and the present, but keenly aware of the lonely isolation of the here and now.

  The Dark Witch's death curse had taken hold.

  She'd cast the curse upon us just as we made our escape from her dark incantations at the cemetery. She'd summoned the beast, allowing him to entwine with her soul and her unborn child. From the fear of persecution, she had craved protection from the darkness, but in her haste, she'd damned us all.

  We had tried to stop her—to change the events of the past, but we had been too late. And now, we drifted along the steady hum of the universe, a vast expanse of somber desolation.

  Before another second of living death threatened to sweep away the final bits of my sanity, I summoned what strength remained in my bones and ran.

  Casting myself out of the smothering confines of the wooden portal, I flew out of the tattered opening into the chasm of thick, whirling fog.

  "Brynn, no!" Shane cried. "You'll be lost forever!"

  His panicked warning faded out behind me, smothered by the heavy mist, as I pushed through the gloomy white haze. Shane was well aware of what existed out there, but his warning didn't stop me.

  Keeping my hands in front, I groped for branches or any clue of my specific location in the woods. More than ever, I prayed I'd bump into the metal gate, or stumble on the gravestones of my past. It didn't matter what, just anything recognizable.

  For the first time in my life, I wished I could be back in the monotone drone of high school, confronting the spurned queen bee or avoiding the angry principal in the orange crisis vest.

  Our original UMA projects seemed so simple in comparison to where we were now. The group had started out as amateur gifted students exploring a haunted wood, but now we'd become thoroughly entwined in the creation of the sinister Dark Witch.

  And now our new mission was clear—we faced our final project.

  Ending the Dark Witch once and for all.

  But this time, failure was more than a possibility.

  It was a probability.

  And it was something we were now becoming very familiar with.

  I continued to stumble forward in the bleak expanse of the void. As I searched for any sign of the life I knew, images flashed before my eyes. Scenes of my childhood shattered my mind with memories long forgotten. My father's face, something I believed I had never seen, burst through my brain. Its familiarity, and the look of pride in his eyes, couldn't be denied.

  He'd existed.

  And he loved me.

  Then images of my mother, collapsing in despair, spiraling into a dark abyss, never to return.

  I'd blocked the memories out, understandably so, because now they dropped me to my knees in pain.

  Wincing and grabbing my chest to soothe the ache, I let out a mournful cry that frightened me deep within my soul.

  "Brynn!" The sound of my name blasted my eyes open.

  As I searched around me, more images assaulted my mind. Snapshots of a time before my childhood, before my birth. But how was that possible? I knew the memories were mine—they included my thoughts and feelings the same way every memory did, but from a life different from the one I was living.

  Then flashes of my marking filled my vision.

  The mark of the Witch Hunter.

  The brand had been burned into my skin and now lifted in throbbing awareness within the images. Leather straps trailed down my arm, leading my vision up along my bicep to a holster that kept a sharp weapon secured in place.

  By instinct, I pulled the blade out of its holder, and it glowed with blinding yellow light as it slid out.

  "Where are you?" Shane called to me from the depths of oblivion.

  With a gasp, I cleared my head of the streaming impressions and stumbled through the fog. Every part of my being craved to be near him, together again. As I moved farther from the portal, the fear of becoming forever lost and alone in the void shook my bones.

  What was I doing?

  I needed to stay with my friends if we were to have any chance
of escaping this dead space.

  Turning toward the sound of Shane's voice, I searched through the mist only to find more nothingness.

  Then his voice resounded again, and my head shot in every direction. The sound morphed from all around me, making it impossible to know which way to go.

  As terror welled up in my throat, I quickened my pace, pushing through the haze.

  "Shane," I cried out. "I'm here!"

  Silence dulled the space around me, and I listened harder, wondering if I'd gone completely deaf. Only the sensation of a hollow vacuum filled my ears.

  Total isolation within my own head.

  I was truly lost.

  My stomach hollowed as the terror of solitary confinement gripped me. With the fog thickening, I continued to search through its endless abyss.

  As if wandering aimlessly along a lonely lane, my silent steps became countless, moving me through the haze of my blank surroundings.

  But then I paused.

  Something had jolted my attention back from my vacant stupor into sudden, sharp awareness.

  Whispering.

  At first, the mischievous voices were hushed, sounding like strange static, but then as I focused, their sinister intent became more evident. At least three voices, mixing together like tormented spirits whirling all around me, studying me.

  I swatted at my ears to hush the haunting sounds and stared into the loathsome mist in hopes of finding someone who could help me.

  "Who's there?" I called out.

  In that same instant, the whispering hushed, taunting me with empty silence again.

  "Who's there?" I repeated louder.

  Standing perfectly still, I listened with every fiber.

  And then, right before my eyes, the fog began to whirl in a circular motion in front of me. As it spiraled, it turned black within the center of the spinning, and then spread wider. I stared into the strange haze, and as I strained to see what might be hidden within, a ghastly face appeared, jolting me back.

  White, glazed eyes stared back at me without blinking, and the shock of the blind glare caused me to stumble. As I caught my balance, I gazed into the soulless eyes, no pupils or color of any form, and became entranced by their clouded, vacant hold.

  Drawn closer, I studied the threatening dark face framed with wild hair that lifted all around it. Streaks of blood ran down the cheeks sending panic through me. It was the gruesome face of a wrathful banshee staring out at me as if she were preparing to devour me.

  My heart raced in sheer terror as I tried to break eye contact with the horrific sight, but she held me without relent.

  "She sees." The eerie whisper moved all around me.

  The other voices joined in as if reveling in their new prize. The buzz of their enthusiasm made my skin prickle as I realized I was their prey. This was their hunting ground, and I had wandered where I should never have gone—right into their wicked realm.

  Nervous jolts shuddered through me, preparing my legs for flight. In the face of the terrifying blind witch, the one thing I still had was my will to live.

  In an instant, I turned and bolted away from the whirling black fog.

  Pushing through the thick mist, the sound of the sinister whispers grew louder and more aggressive, prompting my legs to move faster.

  "She'll get away."

  "Don't let her out of your sight."

  Their seething whispers turned to gnarled cackles and angry screams as they turned on each other instead.

  "You lost her," one cried in angry revolt.

  And I continued to run without slowing until the eerie voices became only a distant echo.

  Huffing through the cloudy haze, I slowed to catch my heaving breath. I grabbed at my parched throat as I coughed from unsympathetic thirst.

  It made no sense. If I were dead, I shouldn't be feeling such living things; fear, panic, exhaustion, thirst.

  Unless this was my abrupt transition out of limbo—my inevitable passage to the unbearable discomforts and horrors of hell.

  I swallowed hard, acknowledging my cruel fate as it had been predetermined by the vengeful Dark Witch.

  She'd truly won.

  Cursing us all to be damned in lonely isolation, filled with sickening fear as the forever hunted.

  It was her ultimate revenge on her own grisly fate.

  Hunted and executed, after having her baby torn from her arms.

  And we couldn't stop any of it.

  She knew we didn't stop it.

  We had failed our last project, miserably.

  The only win was finding Shane, but the ultimate cost was immeasurable.

  Now all I had was myself, my lonely existence in a vast fog. But one thing was still clear to me—I had to find a way out of this hell.

  I had to believe that there was one more project left in us.

  Our final project.

  The goals were still the same, only we had more knowledge and skill to complete them now. I focused hard on what I needed to accomplish.

  I intended to be with Shane again.

  I intended to correct the horrors that occurred to Courtney's sisters.

  I intended to reunite the UMAs as a whole coven again.

  All of these things needed to happen if I were ever to have a true life again.

  And a life was what I intended to have—outside of this hell hole.

  I moved with determination through the empty fog, holding tightly to my drifting sanity. The heavy mist had an insidious way of stealing lucid thoughts. I caught myself, time and again, staring blankly into the haze and had to snap myself back to wakefulness.

  Then the unsettling whispers returned.

  The blind witch had found me again, and this time her shrill tone sent me fleeing for that life I so desperately desired.

  "I see her," she wailed. "She's trying to get away!"

  And with the cackling cries of the sinister whisperers at my back, I bolted through the menacing fog, panting in panicked desperation.

  Pushing blindly through the thick haze, I ran with only the sound of my frenzied breath moving me along. Searching wildly in every direction, I flew through the fog without slowing.

  In distraught hysteria, I suddenly smashed into an unseen figure that grabbed at me, attempting to restrain me. With a bone-chilling scream, I struggled to break free, certain the whispering witches had caught me.

  "Stop! I got you." My assailant fought against my resistance.

  In wild terror, I screamed again, flailing against their strong hold.

  "Let me go!" I shrieked.

  "Brynn, stop!"

  His voice silenced me as my shattered mind settled into a heap of broken pieces.

  "Brynn, it's me," he soothed.

  The rest of my air whooshed out of my lungs, collapsing me into his arms.

  Overwhelming relief moved through me as I held onto Shane for dear life. The connection to him re-hinged my bones and pulled my fractured soul back together. With each rapid breath, I became more of my rational self again.

  And then I remembered my predators.

  "We need to move quickly," I breathed. "The whispers. The blind witch."

  Shane held his arm around me as we hurried away from the direction of my terror. He continued to glance over his shoulder, curious about what had sent me into such a panic.

  With a strained tone, he said, "I thought I'd lost you."

  My shoulders dropped from my ears as I allowed myself to believe he was truly there. Tears welled in my eyes from the pure joy that spilled over in my chest. Nothing else mattered but being with him. Even if we were trapped in this abyss for all of time, at least we were together.

  "Never let go," I whispered.

  "Never," he agreed.

  We wandered through the eerie mist, searching for any sign of life.

  "Will we ever find our way back?" I murmured.

  "Just keep moving. We need to find the portal. The others are waiting inside, keeping it secure."

  T
he hope and confidence in his voice allowed me to believe it was possible. If we could find the portal, we'd all be together. That was the first step in changing our fates—being one again.

  Time lost all measure as we wandered through the mind-numbing haze. Each step reminded us of how lost we truly were, in the cruel abyss of limbo.

  And then a wave of guilt moved through me, sickening me deep within my core.

  "It's my fault," I choked. "We wouldn't be here if I hadn't been so impulsive. I broke the code of the UMAs."

  He slowed and held his eyes on mine.

  "You had to, Brynn," he said. "I felt myself fading. I'm sure you did too. It would have only been a matter of time before I was completely gone." He swallowed hard. "You saved me."

  I wiped at my cheeks. "But doomed the others."

  His eyes fell from mine, and he swallowed hard. "And so now, we must save them too."

  Chapter 2

  Voices echoed from every direction, sending us in aimless circles through the cloudy haze. Our friends searched for us through the dismal abyss—their desperate calls resounding despair through our every lost step.

  "They're close," Shane gasped.

  I shook my head in resistance. "It could be a trick. The blind witch is playing with me."

  Shane pulled me closer as if to keep me from running. "We have to believe our friends are still out here somewhere, looking for us." He studied my drawn face, and worry lines formed on his brow. "I don't know what you saw in the fog, but we can't let hallucinations derail us at a time like this."

  My spine stiffened from his accusation. "Hallucinations? Those bitches were real," I spat.