PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF THE DARK ELITE
Hexbound
“Neill continues building her urban fantasy geared toward tweens and teens featuring a slightly different take on magic . . . will appeal to fans of series like the Blood Coven [Vampires].”
—Monsters and Critics
“The Dark Elite series is absolutely gripping and definitely a page-turner. I could not resist this book and read it quickly. If you haven’t picked up this series, you need to. This is one book that will rock your reading world.”
—Books with Bite
Firespell
“Chloe Neill has written an incredible cast of characters and her heroine, Lily, has a wonderful, engaging voice. . . . Fans of urban fantasy, paranormal, and young adult will definitely want to pick this one up and lose themselves in the magical underground that is Chicago.”
—Fresh Fiction
“If you crave a story full of intrigue, mystery, magic, and a bit of romance, then this is your book.”
—Bookstack
“Exciting teen urban fantasy.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“In a genre laden with boarding school dramas, how can one possibly stand out? Ask Chloe Neill. She did an excellent job of making Firespell stand out above all the others. How? you may ask. By writing exceptionally interesting, fun characters.”
—Pure Imagination
“Firespell separates itself from the pack by virtue of its strong characters, compelling universe, and excellent plotting. . . . [Its] pages fly by and will leave readers eagerly counting down the days until the next book in the series.”
—Sacramento Book Review
PRAISE FOR CHLOE NEILL’S CHICAGOLAND VAMPIRES NOVELS
“With her wonderfully compelling reluctant vampire heroine and her careful world building, I was drawn into Some Girls Bite from page one, and kept reading far into the night.”
—Julie Kenner, USA Today bestselling author of Good Ghouls Do
“If you loved Nancy Drew but always wished she was an undead sword-wielding badass, Merit is your kind of girl.”
—Geek Monthly
“A refreshing take on urban fantasy.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The pages turn fast enough to satisfy vampire and romance fans alike.”
—Booklist
“Neill creates a strong-minded, sharp-witted heroine who will appeal to fans of Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse series and Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake.”
—Library Journal
OTHER NOVELS IN THE DARK ELITE SERIES
Firespell
Hexbound
CHARMFALL
A NOVEL
of
THE DARK ELITE
CHLOE NEILL
NEW AMERICAN LIBRARY
New American Library
Published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2,
Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
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Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
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New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue,
Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, January 2012
Copyright © Chloe Neill, 2012
All rights reserved
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Neill, Chloe.
Charmfall: a novel of the Dark elite/Chloe Neill.
p. cm.
1. Paranormal—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. High schools—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction. 5. Demonology—Fiction. 6. Vampires—Fiction. 7. Chicago (Ill.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PZ7.N42862Ch 2012
[Fic]—dc23 2011043641
Designed by Elke Sigal
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Contents
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 18
Chapter 19
Excerpt from Firespell
About the Author
To Jeremy, with love and Schnauzers
Acknowledgments
Thanks to the usual suspects who helped get Lily and Scout ready for the shelf, including Jessica, for her fantabulous edits, and Rosanne, Liz, and Jia, for their marketing support and assistance. Thanks to Lucienne, my lovely agent. Double thanks to Krista and Lisa for manning the Meritverse Forums (http://forums.chloeneill.com), editing, and marketing, and to my colleagues, friends, and family (Hi, Mom!) for their constant support. My apologies to Scout and Baxter for all the balls I haven’t had time to throw, and to Jeremy, who has to put up with me while I fret about the writing—and married me anyway.
“Magic is overrated.
Courage is what matters.”
—Scout Green
1
His fur was silvery gray. His eyes shifted color between sky blue and spring green, and his ears were flat against his head.
I’d tripped and fallen, which put me at eye level with the giant werewolf in front of me. He gro
wled deep and low, and my heart stuttered a little . . . until he padded forward and nuzzled my arm.
“I’m fine,” I assured him, hopping to my feet. I may have been okay, but my jeans probably weren’t going to recover anytime soon. The tunnels beneath Chicago were damp and dirty, and they left brown marks on my knees.
“Frick,” I muttered, dusting them off the best I could and blowing choppy dark hair from my eyes. “I really liked these jeans.” Maybe for once it was a good thing I’d be back in a plaid school uniform tomorrow morning.
A flash of light filled the tunnel, and a sixteen-year-old boy in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt appeared in the hallway where the wolf had been.
“The jeans are the last thing you need to worry about right now, Lily,” he said, ruffling a hand through his dark blond hair. “I beat you in that last lap by a full ten seconds.”
“I fell,” I pointed out, blushing a little as I looked into his blue eyes. “Besides, you have four legs. I only have two.”
He made a sarcastic sound, but winked at me. That didn’t exactly stop the blushing. Actually, Jason and I had been dating for a few weeks now, and I still blushed a lot. He was just, you know, cute. The kind of cute that gave you goose bumps and made your heart flutter.
The sound of splashing echoed through the tunnels, followed by the sound of heavy panting. This time, it was just two teenagers. Scout Green, my slightly weird BFF, and Michael Garcia, her totally adorable would-be boyfriend, stood in the threshold to the next tunnel. (Would-be, if she let him. He was still working on it.)
She was one of my suitemates at the über-snotty St. Sophia’s School for Girls. Michael and Jason were juniors like us, but they attended a private school a few blocks away from ours.
“You guys okay?” I asked.
“We’re good,” Scout said, but she didn’t sound thrilled about it.
“I won,” Michael said, jumping around the tunnel like he’d just crossed a goal line and spiked a ball. “I am the champion. The champion! Ahhhhh! Ahhh! The crowd goes wild!”
Scout rolled her eyes, and Jason gave him a fist bump.
“Well-done.”
“Yeah, it really was,” Michael said, dark curls bouncing as he pranced around Scout like it would actually impress her. Normally it wouldn’t, but there was a tiny smile at one corner of her mouth this time. Maybe she was a little impressed.
“So we’ve done our sprints,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “What’s next on the list?”
Jason pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and opened it up. “Recommended Adept Workout Number Two,” he began.
“Is it, ‘commence being awesome’?” Michael asked.
“It is not,” Jason said. “It’s dodge ball.”
We all smiled. Dodge ball was one of our favorites, ’cause our version had nothing to do with lining up in a row like in gym.
See, we were Adepts—teenagers with magic. And I’m not talking about magic tricks or smoke and mirrors. I’m talking real magic—vampires and werewolves and spellcasting—and that was just the stuff I knew about.
As it turns out, the world was full of magic. (That fell into the category of “things that totally shocked me,” which also includes turducken and gladiator sandals. Who do those things look good on?) A lucky few teenagers with some special skill or quality got a taste of magic while they were young. Scout, for example, could bind and cast spells. I wielded firespell, which meant I could control lights and send out blasts of power that could knock out bad guys. Michael could read architecture—he could put his hands on a building and figure out what had happened there recently.
And Jason Shepherd, my boyfriend, was a werewolf. He said being able to transform wasn’t exactly magic, but part of an ancient curse; I wasn’t sure about all the details, but being a werewolf apparently meant superstrength and a unique ability to fight. And, I mean, it was awesome to watch your boyfriend turn into a wolf and attack the bad guys in the middle of a battle. I also knew he was careful to stay away from me when the moon was full. It was too dangerous to be around him, he said.
Problem was, the gift of magic was only temporary—like an upside to puberty. Adepts like me promised we’d let the magic go in a few years, when our time came. We respected the natural order of things. Reapers, on the other hand, were magic users who started stealing the souls of others as a last-ditch attempt to hang on to their power.
That’s why we were standing in the dark and dirty tunnels beneath Chicago on an otherwise gorgeous November Sunday. Adepts were responsible for keeping the Reapers—or the Dark Elite, as they called themselves—in check. That meant a lot of late nights after school running around in the dark and a lot of keeping our fingers crossed that we wouldn’t run into anything we couldn’t handle.
We weren’t always lucky.
Anyway, when we weren’t chasing Reapers or taking classes, the Adept higher-ups decided we should get in workouts to keep our magic sharp.
“Dodge ball it is,” Scout said, rubbing her hands together. “Who gets the short straw this time?”
“Obviously me,” Michael grumbled. His magic was more about information than offense, so he always had to do the dodging. And Jason could really only nip at us, which left the magical aggression to Scout and me.
She looked at me and grinned. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
“All day long,” I said. I walked over and faced her, and put out my hands. One in a fist, one palm up. “You ready?”
“All day long,” she repeated, putting her hands out.
We counted down together—“One, two, three, go”—then picked our sides. She picked rock . . . but I picked paper.
“Booyah,” I said, covering her hands with mine. “Paper beats rock. My turn to throw.”
Scout grumbled a few choice words, but picked up her skull-faced messenger bag from our dump spot in a dry bit of tunnel and slid it over her shoulder. “Fine, newbie. Just try not to electrocute us,” she said, then pointed between Jason and me. “And no cheating.”
“Would I do such a thing?” Jason asked, sliding me a glance.
“Frankly, yes. You would. But that doesn’t matter now. Adept, ho!” she said, then turned around and began walking backward, taunting me. “Bring it.”
The goal of Adept dodge ball was to practice throwing magic at a target. In this case, Scout, Jason, and Michael were the targets, which meant I had to practice throwing really light firespell. Diet firespell. Strong enough that they wanted to jump out of the way, but not so strong that I actually hurt anyone.
It wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
“We’re waiting, Lils,” Jason said, moving toward Scout and beckoning me forward with a crooked finger. “Come and get us.”
He was cute, but this wasn’t just a race down a hallway.
This was firespell.
Sure, the power was still new to me. Mine was an accidental gift. I’d gotten my magic after a Reaper, Sebastian Born, inadvertently hit me with a shot of his own firespell. But I was getting better at controlling it—and throwing it at others.
“You got it,” I muttered, closing my eyes and opening myself to the flow of power that spilled through the tunnels beneath me. It rose through my arms and legs, looking for a way out, a way back to ground. It tickled my fingertips, eager to move.
I opened my eyes again, the cage lights that hung in the ceiling of this stretch of tunnel flickering with the effort. I imagined gathering up a lump of power like a snowball, and as Jason, Scout, and Michael stepped over the threshold into the next segment of tunnel, I lobbed it at the ceiling above them.
Scout squealed and ducked; the firespell exploded into a shower of green sparks that vibrated the walls around us. Not exactly a comforting feeling when you were a story or two underground, but it’s not like we had better practice
grounds. Other than Reapers and the few nonmagical folks in Chicago who knew we had magic and helped us stay safe, our powers were secret.
“The race is on!” Michael said. He took off down the tunnel, Jason and Scout behind him.
I gathered up a bit more firespell and ran down the tunnel after them. Each caged light dimmed as I passed beneath it, like they were bowing to the power I held in my hand. I tossed another ball of firespell as the trio disappeared through an arched doorway, sparks showering down behind them.
I muttered a curse. Sure, I wasn’t supposed to hit them, but I was trying to get as close as possible. And that last one could have been a little bit closer.
Water splashed in the tunnels in front of me as they ran away. The tunnels had been used for a small railroad that carried coal and trash between the buildings in Chicago. Water tended to collect in the floor between the old rails, not to mention the stuff that seeped down from the walls. The tunnels were usually dark and always cold, and they were especially chilly now that winter was on its way.
I followed the sounds of their splashing like a trail of crumbs, pausing when they slipped into a segment of tunnel I hadn’t seen before. There was a thin metal bar across the threshold.
“Is that actually supposed to keep anyone out?” I wondered, slipping underneath it and hustling ahead. But when silence filled the tunnel, I stopped.
It was quiet except for the slow drip of water somewhere behind me. Quiet enough that I could hear blood humming in my ears—and still no sounds of the other Adepts. Had they stopped running? Snuck into a side tunnel to ambush me when I wasn’t looking?
Only one way to find out.
I let the power flow a little more—just enough to gather a bit in my hand and scare the pants off them if they tried to be sneaky. I crept forward one step at a time, trying not to worry about the little multilegged things that were probably scurrying around me in the dark.
The lights were dimmer here, but they still flickered as I walked beneath them—stalked beneath them, with a pent-up dose of firespell in hand.