How To Raise The Dead: A Necromancer Academy Romance (Second Breath Academy Book 1) by Leigh Kelsey

Author:Leigh Kelsey [Kelsey, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-27T16:00:00+00:00

SISTERHOOD AND SERIAL MURDER

Physical education went about as well as it could go. Mr Prise had gone as white as a sheet when Rahmi apologised profusely for the three of them being late, explaining how she’d come on her period just before they were meant to leave for breakfast, and her flow was so heavy, and she couldn’t find a pad or a tampon anywhere. Halfway through, he’d waved them off and said, “Just don’t make a regular thing of it.”

Mr Prise was a ghost with a voice like a foghorn, a bulldog-like face, and coarse hair cut in a square shape on his head. He’d died in his forties, in the prime of his life—as he said at least three times during their hellish lesson—and reminded Kati of boot camp instructors she’d seen on TV. She despised everything about him, but especially his lesson plan.

What monster made them run the beep test for their first ever class?

The only silver lining was the promise of playing games later in the term, especially levitation rugby. They’d need to learn an advanced weightless spell before they could play, but it was essentially mortal rugby except you could kick off the ground and soar over the other team’s heads—and they could jump up and knock you out of the air.

“My arse hurts,” Kati groaned as she limped out of the shower block, wrapped in a fluffy towel. “How does my arse hurt?”

“A firm backside is the key to running,” Rahmi proclaimed, keeping a straight face for all of two seconds before she burst out laughing. Kati found the bright sound smoothed the jagged edges of her mood and had her smiling back. “That and you landed on it when your legs finally gave out.”

“Ah yes,” Kati muttered darkly. “That.”

“At least you didn’t hit your head,” Naia said miserably, looking supremely uncomfortable in her towel. It was the same size as Kati’s, but where it almost drowned Kati, most of Naia’s long brown legs were visible. “On the wall.”

Kati grinned. “You won, though.”

“It’s not—” Naia averted her eyes, something Kati had learned was akin to blushing for her. “It wasn’t a competition.”

“Oh, it was,” Rahmi disagreed, finding the bench where they’d left their clothes folded—or in Kati’s case, dumped in a pile. “It’s a horrible contest of physical strength, no skill required whatsoever. No offense to the winner,” she added.

Kati wriggled her underwear and jeans on without unwinding her towel, pulling her shirt over the top and then letting the towel fall. Her bra required a bit more finessing, fastened around her stomach, shuffled up, and then the straps pulled awkwardly over her arms until they snapped into place. In the end she was rather pleased with herself. “You did well, Clarke. The strongest person in our year.” She play-punched Naia. “If I need a bodyguard, I know who I’m coming to.”

Naia glanced away. “Just because I ran further doesn’t mean I’m stronger.”

“What’s wrong with being strong?” Rahmi asked, frowning as she fiddled with her long-sleeved P.

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