Slaying a Harpy: Tales of Curtis Hall

By L.A. Matthies

Tristen and his two best friends, Billy and Sasha, transferred to Curtis Hall so their parents could enjoy peace of mind and know that their kids would receive the best education while escaping the messy, complicated teen world of their hometown of Hibernia, New Jersey, a half hour away. Little did their parents realize that although their boys had received lacrosse scholarships to an incredibly prestigious school rivaling even the most extravagant college campuses, they now had stumbled onto its secrets as well.

Starting to fit in at the elite boarding school, the teens find themselves faced with an even more imposing threat than the immortal vampires who have befriended them. Danger looms around every corner as one of the trio is cursed by the harpys mind control. One is blinded by inexplicable love for the deadly creature, and the third is forced to train as a hunter in the hopes of saving his friends.

Tristen and Marcellas love blooms as she and her vampire crew recruit Tristen and his friends to find a way to outsmart, battle, and hopefully, conquer this powerful mythological beast posing a devastating threat to her and her vampire family.

Will Marcellas greatest nemesis, her own brother, Pietro, aid the factions cause or side with the harpy to destroy his sister? Can the skill and experience of a battle legend be enough to equip the young humans with the strength they need to defeat the harpys curse?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532033261

L.A. Matthies

L.A. Matthies is currently a hairstylist, color specialist, and full-time, single-parent. She has previously published one other book, Surviving Curtis Hall: The Lure of Blood, which was the recipient of the Pinnacle Book Achievement Award in 2013 for the Young Adult category. Matthies lives with her three children in Dix Hills, New York.

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SLAYING

A HARPY

TALES OF CURTIS HALL

L.A. MATTHIES

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SLAYING A HARPY

TALES OF CURTIS HALL

Copyright © 2017 Linda Matthies.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-3325-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-4927-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-3326-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018902710

iUniverse rev. date: 04/24/2018

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Map Of Curtis Hall Campus

Chapter 1 Pietro: Salient Suffering

Chapter 2 Tristen: Best-Laid Plans

Chapter 3 Sasha: To Be Or Not To Be?

Chapter 4 Marcella: Knights Or Pawns

Chapter 5 Bryce: Symbology

Chapter 6 Tristen: Creature Of The Night

Chapter 7 Sasha: Lust And Tequila

Chapter 8 Skye: Mythical Creatures

Chapter 9 Bryce: Right Of Passage

Chapter 10 Pietro: Stirring The Pot

Chapter 11 Marcella: Guilty Pleasures

Chapter 12 Sasha: Fade To Black

Chapter 13 Tristen: Afterglow

Chapter 14 Sasha: Shadow Self

Chapter 15 Skye: Exposing The Ruse

Chapter 16 Pietro: Checkmate?

Chapter 17 Marcella: Cloak And Companions

Chapter 18 Tristen: Patience Is A Virtue

Chapter 19 Sasha: Say It In English

Chapter 20 Bryce: Creative Inspiration

Chapter 21 Skye: The Sister Blades

Chapter 22 Pietro: Harpy’s Wings

Chapter 23 Tristen: Tough Shoes To Fill

Chapter 24 Marcella: Plans And Schemes

Chapter 25 Bryce: You Call This Strategy?

Chapter 26 Tristen: I Smell WhaT You’re Steppin’ In

Afterword The End Of A Legend

To my

dear friend Michael: What can I say? Somehow you manage to always see the best in me. Your encouragement has helped me to stay the course despite all the bumps (sometimes gigantic potholes) in the road. Thank you for always being a thoughtful listener and a strong shoulder to cry on.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

T O MY THREE AMAZING CHILDREN: Thank you for all your love and support. Without you, I’d never be filled with so much joy and creativity. Bianca, Tara, and Blake, you three mean the world to me.

A special shout-out to my best beloved girls: Without you, there are many things I wouldn’t have survived! I count my lucky stars every day for bringing you into my life. Felicia, Julie, Sue, and Gabriella, you’ve been my touchstones. There isn’t a girl out there who wouldn’t benefit from knowing you or feel honored by your friendship. I’m grateful every day that you all chose me!

To my parents: Thank you for always believing in me. Your love and confidence have helped me put pen to paper and persevere.

To Kyle: Even though you aren’t comfortable with compliments, you’re kind of stuck with this one. There aren’t enough words to express how grateful I am to know you. I was practically a ghost when we met, a broken shell of my former self. You brought me back to life with your sincerity, strength, easy sense of humor, and patience. You put me on the path of happiness, inspired me, and helped me to believe that I’m good just as I am. It’s a pretty big deal to me, and I love you for it!

To the amazing editorial team at iUniverse: I thank you for your professionalism, support, and expertise.

To John Giordano: Thank you for being the creative force behind this cover design. Working with you has been a privilege.

To Simone Cassin and Fashion Shots of Miller Place: Thank you for your beautiful photography on my author head shot.

Last but never least, to all my readers: All you wonderful teens and adults alike, I am awed and inspired by you. It is you who makes it all possible, keeping my dreams alive and well. My appreciation knows no bounds.

PROLOGUE

Present Day

Falling Apart

I’m falling apart … bit by bit,

Like the shattered pane of glass,

Shards descending to the ground,

In slow motion … devoid of sound.

Can I be fixed, or is there no repair?

Dare I utter the words … a feeling sadly unfair?

Is this, my fate, just—or merely despair?

I hold my breath, hoping to focus.

Light reflects off the shards as they glitter with a starlike quality.

I remain motionless.

Any slight movement could result in painful finality.

Imagining an arduous retreat, soles bleeding,

Extinguishing the fire of my grief,

A few encouraging words from you capable of

Pulling me to safety and relief.

Mental torment, my current status,

Seems unavoidable.

Yet I’d still choose the momentary escape

Of your embrace … so affable.

I summon most of my energies,

Solely to protect me from becoming laughable.

How long I can withstand this eclipse

Of reason … I cannot say—

Can you? Look me in the eye.

Respond yea or nay.

Will I contest the agony … keep it at bay

For yet another day?

Tristen McCoy

T RISTEN EYED HIS LATEST WORK with mixed emotion. It was pride that he felt as the page printed and he held his tangible feelings in his hand. With a loud sigh, he opened the top drawer of his dark oak desk, which was already brimming with papers, and quickly placed it in, cramming the drawer shut. He wanted nothing more than to remove the sight of his manifested pain along with the feelings themselves.

Why the hell hasn’t Marcella responded to my letter? If she didn’t like that poem, she sure isn’t going to groove on this depressing drivel, he thought as he started to get ready to face yet another day at school. He just didn’t get it, considering what they had been through—daring rescue, near-death experiences, allowing her to drink his blood so that she could save his friends’ lives. Was ignoring him really the protocol after such dramatic events?

Tristen, along with his two best friends, Billy and Sasha, had transferred to Curtis Hall so their parents could enjoy peace of mind that their kids would receive the best education while escaping the messy, complicated teen world of their hometown of Hibernia, New Jersey, a half hour away. Little did their parents realize that although their boys had received lacrosse scholarships to an incredibly prestigious school that rivaled even the most extravagant college campuses, they now had stumbled onto its secrets as well. The mysterious girl Marcella, with whom Tristen had fallen in love, was really a beautiful, centuries-old vampire passing herself off as a student of Curtis Hall. In actuality, Marcella transformed Curtis Hall as well as its sizable grounds from a decrepit mansion to a sanctuary for herself and her coven in the guise of said school. Her peers skillfully blended in as professors, and since they had access to a sizable research lab, the help of Professor Stavros, and the elixir that allowed them to withstand exposure to sunlight, the majority of the human staff and students remained unaware. Tristen still marveled at the fact that Marcella had chosen to share these secrets with him.

It was six o’clock on Thursday morning, and everything else in his life appeared normal. Same great friends, same odd but incredible school, same awesome lacrosse team. All except the gaping, open wound where his heart should have been and a mind nagging for answers that might never appear.

The only thing Tristen could do that made sense at the moment was force himself to get dressed, eat breakfast, and go to school.

I’ll throw on the black shirt and black jeans, no thinking. Always works for Billy when he’s down in the dumps. It’s almost Halloween. Maybe I can pass myself off as one of the living dead. These thoughts felt raw because living dead might not be far from what the love of his life was.

Welcome to the uncool part of the teen years that you’ve avoided so nicely up till now!

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Map Of Curtis Hall Campus

I

PIETRO

SALIENT SUFFERING

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L YING ON THE FLOOR OF the dank, dark cave, Pietro replayed the scenes of the day in his head in a desperate attempt to make sense of them. Power coursed through his veins while he remembered the scholar chained submissively in his dungeon. Intense fear followed with the remembrance of the scholar’s regeneration after having had his throat slit. Pietro assembled the pieces of his memory like a puzzle. He had lost all track of time, and some of the pieces were missing. He had felt quite justified in ordering that the creature be burned at the stake, and now he found himself trapped in a similar life to that of the one he had ordered terminated only a few short hours ago … Or was it days?

He could not bear the torment of thinking about his sister, Marcella, both beautiful and clever, the onetime jewel of his father’s eye. Pietro had discarded her nearly lifeless body to the Gypsy healer after she contracted the black death, fearing that he himself would fall victim to its merciless wrath. Never had he conceived that she could have survived, yet she was still young and more beautiful than ever. A now powerful and vengeful enemy, Pietro had been but a rag doll in her grasp. The frustration in his mind was rivaled only by the burning sensation in his chest, a burning he knew would have to be appeased.

It was with considerable humiliation and disgust that Pietro resolved himself to the fact that he would have to consume a rat—or rather its lifeblood. He summoned up whatever willpower he could muster and set himself to purpose.

There in the dark, he heard the telltale squeaking of his prey. To his great surprise, he could also hear the rhythm of its tiny heart. Pietro lay quite still, waiting patiently as the rat approached. It was not long before the gruesome feast was at his feet. He reached out and grabbed the creature. For a moment, he was moved by the struggle of the rodent as it scratched and clawed for dear life. The intense burning in Pietro’s chest soon put an end to the struggle as he gave in to the need he had no ability to deny. Sinking his teeth into the furry body, he drained the hot, metallic-tasting fluid almost instantly. Tossing the empty husk to the side, he began to feel less repulsed with this new means of survival and more soothed instead.

After repeating this gory ritual over and over during his first week, Pietro came to a place of acceptance within his mind. He vowed that he would not shrink from his new life, because even more detestable to him than his new diet was the thought of Marcella’s conquest over his spirit.

As a new vampire, Pietro sat in his dank, self-imposed prison both lonely and sulking. Time and again he attempted to reach out timidly toward the light of day at the cave’s entrance, only to be subjected to the sizzling of his flesh. His fingers healed, but he grew more and more fearful of the sun. At least he was full, the decaying bodies of his tiny victims strewn all about the cave as evidence of his feasting.

Pietro heard someone approach, and in spite of the dimness within the cave, his sister Marcella’s face was revealed to him.

Sweet sister, how kind of you to visit me in my loneliness. He scowled.

I see that you are not totally lifeless. Perhaps you are beginning to enjoy consuming rodents? Tell me, brother—how do you find your new accommodations? Is the cave filled with all the comforts of home? Marcella taunted him.

Is this to be our new relationship, Marcella? You the powerful and I the subservient? Leave me to my dismal surroundings. Your company is nothing but a painful reminder of the life I have lost. Pietro could easily recall that not so long ago it was he who played the heartless master to his sister’s suffering.

Oh, I do hope so, Pietro—after all the joys of life that you have squandered, not to mention those you’ve stolen from me. I will make it a point to visit often just so that I may revel in your misery!

With that, Pietro lunged at her throat, determined to dispatch the source of his cruel pain. To his dismay, with imperceptible effort, Marcella brushed him away as one might flick away a fly.

You are pathetic. Have you learned nothing, dog? I could destroy you without so much effort as it takes to fasten my shoe, you that deserve no mercy. My purpose here is to instruct you in whatever limited capacity your personality allows. Surely you have questions. I will answer two, she announced.

A glimmer of hope began to rise in the corner of Pietro’s mind; perhaps he could alter the events that had transpired.

What must I do to get my old life back? How may I be returned to my family? he asked.

Marcella’s melodic laughter rang out, enveloping the space surrounding them and penetrating his brain like a thousand tiny daggers piercing his flesh.

What a fool you are, brother. What is done can never be undone. Your family has mourned your loss, the church service has taken place, the pyre lit. You are nothing but a sad memory for them. You cannot be a part of their lives ever again. Would you steal your son’s opportunities for happiness and success? she scolded.

No … I meant only that I wish to look upon their faces once more, Pietro confessed, unable to lift his gaze from the cave floor. They were my most worthwhile accomplishment.

That life is over. Making them aware of your existence could only bring them ruin. You must set your mind to another purpose—perhaps even some way to redeem yourself.

In your eyes, how can it be possible? You say I have stolen from you, yet you make no effort to explain. Tell me, sweet sister—how am I responsible for your losses? he demanded.

You took our mother, for one. Her memory means nothing to you, but I loved her … needed her! Marcella raged.

How can you hold me responsible for an accident of birth? I would have loved her had I been given a choice, he said, using his most persuasive tone. His intensified emotions caused him to consider that there could be another point of view other than his own.

And what of the Great One? You never bothered to find out who he was. Unleashing all your jealousy and insecurity, you had him eradicated like a common criminal, she accused.

He appeared a monster to my human eyes. How could I have known him to be otherwise? He refused to answer my questions. Surely you see my point, Pietro stammered.

No, brother, I do not and will never see your point. She looked as if the very words burned her tongue. He was our ancestor. He watched over us all … watched over me. Saved my life after you had me discarded like soiled linens or trash. Marcella turned from him. Lost in her grief, she laid a hand on the wall of the cave as if to steady herself. Instinctively, Pietro moved closer in an attempt to comfort her, but she regained herself before he could complete the gesture. His once quiet and proper sister now seemed the epitome of strength to him. Marcella spoke numbly, in little more than a whisper. I’d gladly crush your skull if that would return him to me. As it is, I will take my leave of you.

Pietro felt denied an opportunity to make amends, but before he could articulate an answer, she had vanished, leaving him to his thoughts and company of rats. Feeling empty and alone once again, Pietro tried to digest all the information relayed to him by Marcella. He wondered if this sharing of knowledge was intentional. Questions began to surface in his wounded mind. Had she meant for him to be remorseful? Was he indeed the namesake of that creature he had so mercilessly dispatched? Had his actions cruelly impacted his son? Would it ever possible to mend the rift between him and his sister? Alas, he had no answers, only more questions to keep him company. He felt no better off than before the appearance of his angry visitor.

Dejected and restless, Pietro made a decision to venture forth from his gloomy sanctuary. If he could not make contact with his wife and son, surely he could look upon their faces without harm coming to them.

Perhaps I should ingest a bit more sustenance before such an undertaking, he said. Come here, my furry little friend. Don’t worry—I’ll make this quick. Pietro spoke softly, almost comforting the small, writhing rodent in his grasp. He sank his teeth into its plump body and painlessly depleted it.

Feeling a renewed confidence, he tossed the husk aside and proceeded to the mouth of the cave. While he stood at the threshold, Pietro peered out, exploring the limits of his vampire vision. He was astounded at how clear it all was. The slightest movement in any direction was at once perceptible; this would take some getting used to. A lesser creature would have suffered sensory overload, being unable to process the intense assault that bombarded him now. Pietro could hear a family of rabbits scurrying through the underbrush; turning his head to focus in that direction, he caught a glimpse of a tail. Next, he heard an owl to his left. Snapping his head toward the sound, he caught the faint moonlight reflecting off its eyes high upon its perch in a distant tree. In his former life, only the aid of a hunting hound would have helped him to detect such things.

Perhaps there were some benefits to his condition that he had not thought to consider. Could it be that he possessed abilities that others would envy? The time had come to test his limits.

Keeping those very thoughts in mind, Pietro broke into a run. As he ran, he inhaled the sweet-smelling night air. The ground, firm yet pliant beneath his feet, gave him no opposition, only adding to his feeling of exuberance. Speed and agility now came easily to him. For the first time since the birth of his son, Pietro felt a smile cross his lips from sheer joy.

He then decided to test himself further by attempting a vertical leap into the bough of a nearby tree. He held his breath as he sprang from the ground. Slightly overshooting his mark, Pietro flew in a graceful arch before landing upon the ground on the other side of the olive tree.

He was successful on his second attempt. Feeling resolutely satisfied with his triumph, he paused to enjoy his vantage point. Pietro had been so fixed on the task of testing his new abilities that he hadn’t realized until now that he was on the outskirts of his own property. From this standpoint, he could easily observe all the normal human commotion as it occurred in his former household.

All too soon, Pietro was seized with feelings of longing and regret, the voyeur unable to tear his eyes away from his wife and son busy interacting with the household staff of his previous life. They all appeared vivacious and busy in their surroundings. The domicile seemed quite different to him now, more exquisite somehow. The stone pillars exuded more strength, the tapestries appeared more vivid, even the varnish on the wood furniture was dramatically richer. He wondered sadly why these things had escaped him before. Had he been too preoccupied with the business of day-to-day life, or were his human senses merely that dull?

As he looked on, he noticed his wife affectionately run her fingers through the boy’s hair. They were both far more beautiful