Hades Academy: Fourth Semester

by Abbie Lyons

  “Professor?” She threw her hand into the air. “When you talk about acting properly, does that mean that there are certain things that we shouldn’t do as higher level demons?” She threw a pointed gaze at me.

  I subtly flipped her the bird.

  “Well, of course,” Professor Rouse said, his thin lips pursing into a strange little smile. He took a few steps, the heels of his shiny ankle height boots echoing against the marble floors of the ballroom. God, I wish we could have class somewhere normal. At this point the only classroom I felt at home in was Mantel’s, and even that had been ruined by all the discussion of the Children of Abaddon.

  “But I’m afraid you’ll need to be a bit more specific, Countess de Locke. There’s really quite a panoply of things that we higher level demons should not be seen doing...or do at all, regardless of who is watching.” His little smile brightened. “Is there something in particular you’re wondering about?”

  Camilla straightened her back, her silvery blonde hair swishing around her shoulders. “I just want to make it clear that this isn’t about me,” she said. “It’s merely...hypothetical. But let’s say that a higher level demon becomes embroiled in some sort of subterfuge. Researching magic and rituals that are dangerous, that sort of thing. Delving where they shouldn’t, getting involved in some sort of suspicious or fringe groups, if you know what I mean.”

  Heat rose under the collar of my blouse. She wasn’t being subtle. It’d been a few days since she’d overheard me talking with Professor Mantel, and I was starting to think that maybe I was in the clear. But nope—as expected, Camilla had just been biding her time. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to dangle it over me.

  She knew what she had. And she was reminding me now. Taunting me with the possibility of, basically, blackmail.

  I wilted in my seat.

  “I suppose,” said Professor Rouse, a small V forming between his eyebrows. “Without knowing specifics, it’s hard to say exactly what the consequences might be, but there’s no doubt that that sort of impropriety should never be part of our lives. We have careers to consider, true missions. We are not rabble-rousers or experimenters. We are the ones that preserve the way of things, the order of demonhood. In a way, all of demon society rests on our shoulders. And because of that, the greatest interruptions, quite frankly the greatest Chaos incidents that have ever occurred have been because of higher level demons who get involved in...non-traditional demon magic.”

  I shifted in my armchair, uncomfortable despite myself. I looked from Camilla to her stupid oil portrait and wished I could shoot flames out of my eyes. Maybe I should ask Lamoureux about advanced pyromancy techniques the next time I was in seduction class.

  Another girl raised her hand. “You mean that we have a greater potential to cause Chaos in addition to stopping it?”

  Professor Rouse wrinkled his nose and folded his hands behind his back. “Well, I don’t mean to be a gossip, but you all were here at the end of last year, were you not?”

  Nods from across the room. It’d been a pretty fucking eventful year, so it wasn’t surprising that no one had forgotten .

  “Then you’ll recall exactly what...transpired. Professor Frost—well, I suppose I should say Wilder, since he’s been stripped of his professor status, naturally...”

  A cold shot of adrenaline fired down my spine. It’d been a while since I’d thought about Wilder. All his manipulation of me, bordering on seduction, and how I almost fell for it. How he is my inverse, or I am his, and how he almost killed me—join the club with my mom, I guess. But Professor Rouse was right: Wilder had gotten mixed up in some way off-book magic and he destroyed the whole library. Plus gotten Dean Harlowe removed. And, again, had tried to sacrifice me to Chaos. At this point I really had no tolerance for anyone who tried to off me.

  Professor Rouse coughed daintily. “Again, the details are irrelevant, but I think that’s enough of a cautionary tale to show you what can happen when a higher level demon such as ourselves abandons reason and propriety in the search for power.”

  Camilla puckered her lips and blinked in my direction. Maybe it was the reminder of Wilder and his murder attempt, or maybe it was just leftover angst from metallurgy, or maybe it was the fact that I was fucking tired of Camilla trying to take me down at every second, but I had to speak up.

  “What about answers?”

  Professor Rouse gaped at me for a second until he seemed to remember that it wasn’t polite to leave his mouth hanging open like that. “I beg your pardon?”

  I lowered my arm. “What if it’s not power? What if we just want answers? What’s the point of even having a higher level status if we’re not using it to make things better, to understand them more than we already do? Hell, isn’t that why we’re here? This is a school. And this class is supposed to teach us more about ourselves, but so far all we’ve learned is how to greet every level of demon, eat traditional demon cuisine without being rude, and get our fucking pictures painted.”

  The ballroom fell deathly silent. Now it was Camilla’s turn to have her mouth hanging open. Only she didn’t bother closing it.

  Professor Rouse blinked a few times. “The answers, Duchess Donovan, frankly do not matter. Demons are not seekers. Higher level demons least of all. We are part of balance. We are what stops Chaos. Investigation, excessive curiosity...those create Chaos. Overreach and the desire to upset things as they are—such impulses are the very source of instability.

  “In other words, seeking answers is seeking power.” He shot a narrowed look down his beaklike nose. “And if you’d learned anything in this class, you would know that either is unacceptable.”

  The end of class chime sounded, and everyone got their feet almost at once, like a dam breaking, and everyone couldn’t rush out of there fast enough. I took my sweet time, not looking Rouse in the eye and shooting a death glare at Camilla’s ass as she sashayed away.

  Later that night, not looking at my textbook open in my lap, hearing almost nothing but the crackling fire and the whispering wind against the windowpanes of the common room, I suddenly snapped my gaze up to Morgan.

  “Morgan.”

  “Ah!” Morgan jumped. “What’s up, Noves?”

  I licked my lips. “You still working on Operation Take Camilla Down?”

  Morgan rolled her eyes to the back of her head with delight. “Gods, you know I am.”

  “Great,” I said. “Because I am all fucking in.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As it turned out, Operation Take Camilla Down was a trip into Westrock.

  “I still don’t understand how exactly this is going to get her,” said Teddy. He had on a shearling coat with the collar pulled up practically to his cheeks, and his glasses were crystalling in the cold. Next to him, Morgan, in her spiked leather jacket and with wicked cat-angled liner framing her eyes, stamped forward determinedly.

  “It’s simple,” she said. “We show up, look hot as shit, and then Nova does one of her little you know, punchy punchy things.” She jabbed at the air with a leather-gloved fist.

  I sucked in an icy breath of air. “Um, no one said anything about me punching her?”

  “I will punch her,” said Karolina. “But I would also like to find Matthias.”

  “Exactly,” said Morgan. “It’s a multipart mission. But looking hot as shit is an important part. Maybe several of the multi parts.” She gave me an appraising glance. “Nova, darling, I still think you could have done better.”

  “What?” I looked down at my outfit: Docs, jeans, a blue-and-black striped sweater under my pea coat. Maybe she had a point. “I did wear jewelry.”

  I held up my wrist, where I’d slid on my melty-looking bracelet monstrosity from metallurgy. I didn’t know what possessed me to put it on that morning, but it did feel weirdly grounding to have something I handmade, however shittily, on my body.

  A gust of wind swirled around us, stirring up snowflakes between the evergreen trees as we walked down the pa
th that led from Hades Academy to the little town of Westrock. I shivered, and not from the cold. My heart was pounding uncomfortably hard. This was the first time that I had left campus since the showdown with my mom. And even though I was with my friends, who I knew would literally die for me, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

  Something brushed against my arm, and I jumped.

  “Gods!” Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Did I scare you, Nova?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I just...” There was no reasonable excuse. “Fine, you scared me.”

  “Well good thing your reflexes are so fast,” she said. “Because you never know if Camilla’s developed a killer right hook.” She looked at Teddy. “By the by, Teds, you never did tell us where she and her lot like to hang out.”

  “The Thistle Inn,” Teddy said. “It’s the tearoom place just off the square.”

  “Right-o,” Morgan said.”

  “Speaking of which, is it okay if I meet up with Zelda later?” Teddy asked as we passed through the gates into the small town. It looked like any other cozy village in upstate New York, except for the fact that half of the stores sold demon supplies or bizarre clothes or traditional demon music records. So like a college town from hell. “It’s just that, you know, it’s sort of our date night and...”

  “Theodore!” Morgan threw up her hands, her breath steaming around her. “You know that this is supposed to be our singles trip to Westrock to look hot as shit slash possibly punch Camilla’s lights out.”

  “And seduce Matthias,” said Karolina. She wasn’t wearing a jacket, but instead had opted for two lumpy, hairy sweaters that I recognized as being handmade by her mom, Desdemona.

  “And seduce Matthias,” Morgan agreed. “And anyone else we care to seduce.”

  “Aleks,” said Karolina.

  “Karolina? How about you leave some for the rest of us, all right?” Morgan said very sweetly, with a commiserating glance at me. “And have you simply forgotten about that lovely boy in the orchestra who shoots glances your way?”

  “No fucking way,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. “I’m not doing dating anymore.”

  “You weren’t really dating before either,” Morgan commented dryly. “Just, you know...” She made a kind of quick jabbing motion that I supposed meant banging.

  My throat went hot and dry.

  Not like the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But sex was...well, according to Professor Lamoureux, it was the point of no return. And honestly? Even if I weren’t a seduction demon, it’d still be pretty fucking complicated.

  No pun intended.

  But that didn’t mean I didn’t think about it.

  Still.

  “We didn’t actually...never mind.” There was no point getting into the logistics of my non-relationship with Raines, because I couldn’t even bear to think about how I left things between us. If I had to take an F in Metallurgy, that was a small price to pay. It’s not like that bracelet was shaping up to be anything but a waste of bronze.

  “Okay, well, wherever we go, can it be somewhere warm, and soon?” Teddy said, teeth chattering. “Because I’ve lost feeling in my feet and I’m not good enough at pyromancy to thaw them out.”

  Five minutes later, we were back in the very boutique where Morgan and I had shopped for ballgowns our first year and where, not coincidentally, I’d gotten thrown out for starting a fight with Camilla.

  “I just thought it might get us in the proper mood,” Morgan said. She blinked innocently.

  “Mood for what?” I asked. “Because I’m pretty sure that I have a lifetime ban at this place.”

  Karolina was currently examining a rack of necklaces that seem to be made out of actual fangs, and pointed.

  “These would suit you nicely, Nova.”

  “No thanks.” I held up my wrist and my shitty homemade bronze bracelet. “I’ve got jewelry down.”

  “It’s only a lifetime ban if they recognize you!” Morgan leaped to Karolina’s side and grabbed her by the shoulders. In one somewhat graceful movement, she tugged the double sweaters over Karolina’s head and flung them at me .

  “There,” she said. “Your disguise. Trust me when I say that no one will think it’s you.”

  “But I’m cold,” said Karolina, not in a complaining tone so much as a matter of fact statement.

  “And that is part of my plan as well,” Morgan said. “Remember how we need to look absolutely hot as shit when we get to the tearoom?”

  “Oh no,” Teddy and I said in unison.

  “Oh yes,” Morgan said gleefully. “This is a makeover.”

  What followed was a montage for the ages. Teddy and I sitting on an ebony wood bench and watching as Morgan stage-managed a series of gradually more elaborate costume changes for Karolina. Red was too vampy, and blue looked too much like our school uniforms, so Morgan eventually concluded that silver was Karolina’s color, and honestly, it did look pretty awesome against her skin, especially when Morgan found a deep V-neck dress with elbow length sleeves and a high-low skirt that billowed around her long legs.

  “Wow,” I said, and meant it. This was straight out of a 90s teen movie, right down to Karolina looking hotter with her hair out of its braids. Hell, I was surprised a little trail of sparkles didn’t follow her everywhere she went.

  “There,” Morgan said, twirling Karolina around. Karolina beamed.

  “But I’m still cold,” she said.

  Morgan shook her head vigorously. “Absolutely not. You’re hot shit.”

  With that, we launched into phase two of the operation, namely...go to the Thistle Inn and sit there until either Matthias or Camilla appeared and act appropriately.

  Inside, the Thistle Inn was kind of a mix between a fairy-tale pub and a biker bar: all the cute little touches like a fireplace and knick knacks on the walls, but heavy metal blasting from unseen speakers and blue-flamed candles on every table. God, demons were weird.

  “Are you starting to relax at least a little?” Morgan asked quietly as we walked to a snug in the back.

  “I’m relaxed,” I said shortly.

  “You can’t lie to me,” Morgan said. “And trust me, I know uptight when I see it. I’m a bloody Englishwoman.”

  But I was starting to relax...a little. Being out with my friends made me feel like a normal person. Not even a normal demon, but a normal actual human being. Which I knew I wasn’t. But I hadn’t felt that way in so long. Just...normal. Regular. Sure, back in New York, I’d to think about survival and where I was going to sleep and whether or not the bagel place was going to throw out the day-olds before the dumpster got locked, but I also wasn’t facing demonic existential dread or the threat of one of several people trying to murder me. The chattering sounds of the tearoom could pass for any Starbucks in Brooklyn, and as I closed my eyes and leaned back into our booth, letting the fuzzy lumps of Karolina’s sweater mush around me, I felt, just for a second, like maybe things would be okay.

  Somehow. If I could figure out how to stop my mom. If I figured out how to stop becoming my mom.

  “Pot of the oolong with licorice schnapps,” Morgan ordered briskly when a bored teenage demon waitress slunk over to our table. “And a whole plate of those pumpkin walnut scones. Don’t skimp on the clotted cream.”

  The waitress nodded and slipped away again. Morgan got up and rearranged us so that Karolina was now sitting on the end.

  “Is he here?” Karolina said, looking around. She wasn’t exactly being subtle about it, swiveling her head like a periscope in a submarine with her wide eyes sweeping the entire tearoom.

  “I forget when he said he was leaving,” Teddy said, leaning forward on his elbows and jiggling his leg. “You know, if you want to see him this badly, I can just...bring him over sometime?”

  “No!” shrieked Karolina and Morgan at once. I giggled, surprising myself.

  “That’s not the same thing at all,” Morgan said. “You’re depriving her of the whole thrill of the cha
se.”

  “But he’s my roommate,” Teddy said. “There is no chase.”

  “What kind of seduction demon are you?” Karolina said, tipping her head to the side. Again, not in a mean way, but in a genuinely curious one.

  “One who isn’t even seeing his own girlfriend today,” grumbled Teddy.

  Karolina’s eyes went wide. “Look!” she said, and pointed.

  I looked, expecting to see Matthias or possibly Aleks or maybe the orchestra guy, or maybe, I don’t know, a fourth mysterious boy she had a crush on, but no. It was our target for the day.

  “Yes!” Morgan pumped two fists in the air. “The eagle has landed.”

  “What?” said Teddy. Morgan rolled her eyes.

  “It’s Camilla!” she cried. “And...you know, her friends. Who are fine.”

  “I’ll say,” Teddy said, wiggling his eyebrows. Morgan punched him on the shoulder.

  “For the love of Gods, Theodore, keep it in your trousers!”

  Camilla, Zelda, and Ruby were taking a seat at a high top near the bar. Camilla had on some expensive looking baby blue leather jacket, and Ruby, who I still hadn’t forgiven for her bullshit at our party, was wearing one of those shirts with the shoulders cut out, which was absurd on a day this cold, especially with no jacket. Zelda had on a cable knit sweater and a vest, which actually seemed pretty normal. You really couldn’t fault Teddy for taste. Maybe.

  “Karo,” Morgan whispered urgently. “Flip your hair around and stuff. Just...look hot!”

  The absurdity of the plan was really starting to set in. Or maybe it was just the schnapps in the teapot that the waitress had deposited in front of us. Either way, I felt my skin warming up and a delicious sense of incipient drama settling in.

  Karolina tossed her hair over her shoulder like it was an instinct, which made me wonder whether she was actually something of a man eater. Perhaps literally. I slurped up more tea.

  Camilla, meanwhile, was snapping her fingers for service, because of course she was. This was a girl who had no capacity to sympathize with people quote-unquote beneath her. She was noticing us about as much as the waitress was noticing her—not a lot. And that’s when I noticed a third party from the corner of my eye.