by KC Kingmaker
I clamped my jaw, the subtext of Professor Hawkins’ words angering me. She was pitting us against each other from the onset, seeing what we could do to become her “favorite.” I had to admit, it was a smart way to motivate the students. It was also entirely cutthroat.
It’s gonna be like that, huh?
The door opened. Eyes swung to the side.
“Look who decided to finally show up,” Professor Hawkins said. “The teacher’s assistant with a knack for being tardy.”
“My bad, Prof,” the TA replied. She stood at the door, surveying the students with a scowl, her arms crossed over her ample chest.
My stomach dropped to the hem of my silly skirt.
The professor swept her arm out. “Students, please welcome your illustrious TA: Phantom Genevieve Jade.”
I GENTLY POURED A BLUE liquid into an empty test tube—or a culture tube or centrifuge tube as Professor Hawkins called it. She wanted us to get up to snuff on our high school chemistry, reminding us about acids and alkaline and all that fun stuff.
My eyes were about two inches from the opening of the tube, my tongue sticking out the side as I concentrated and poured in the liquid without missing a drop.
“Trying to blind yourself on the first day, Ghost?” a derisive voice said next to me. “Not that I would mind,” it finished in a whisper close to my ear.
I glanced over at Genevieve and narrowed my eyes, standing upright. I pulled my shield mask up over my face. “I’m wearing a mask, Genevie—”
“Miss Jade.”
My teeth gnashed together. “I’m wearing a mask, Miss Jade. Isn’t that enough?”
“Follow protocol,” she snapped.
Without turning away from her—I wouldn’t give Genevieve the satisfaction of seeing me back down—I slammed my shield over my face and held my hand out to Charli at my side. “Give me the red shit, Charli.”
“You mean the manganese?” Genevieve said in a syrupy, sickeningly sweet tone.
“I mean the red shit.”
I could hear Charli stammering beside me, caught off-guard by my little face-off with our illustrious TA. Test tubes clanked in Charli’s hands as she pushed one into my open palm.
Genevieve let out a snort and shook her head, sauntering away through the aisles of the tables to go terrorize some other students. Or maybe she reserves that luxury just for me.
Charli leaned in close to whisper, “I’m not sure I like this head-butting between you two, Cor Cor. She’s scary.”
I scoffed and leaned forward to pour the red shit into the blue shit. “She’s a puffed-up snob, Charli. Like all bullies. You can’t let her get in your head. That’s where people like her live.”
“Ah.”
“She’s more T&A than TA.”
Charli barked a loud laugh and clapped her hand over her mouth when Genevieve spun her head around to leer at us. I was pretty sure she hadn’t heard me or else she would have been raising hell. She continued prowling through the aisles.
I moved onto the next test tube while the one I’d just mixed fizzled and did its thing.
“You’re kind of a badass, aren’t you Cor Cor?” Charli asked.
“No, hun, I just don’t like putting up with shit. You’ll know when—”
“Oh. My. God!” Charli’s voice raised an octave, which meant she was basically in falsetto range.
I cringed as realization dawned on me. My eyes scanned the floor where my backpack was set against the table legs. The unzipped top hole was empty.
Shit.
“Look what the itty bitty kitty committee dragged in!” Charli cooed.
That’s when I noticed Bruce Kittenson had escaped his backpack jail and was sauntering on top of the desk, prancing with the test tubes between his legs.
Fuuuck. My heart hammered. “B-Bruce, what the hell!” I scolded in a harsh whisper. I reached out to grab him, but he dodged me effortlessly and scooted across the table to Charli’s side.
Charli’s squeal of delight turned into a horrified gasp as Bruce bumped into a half-filled beaker and sent it teetering on the edge of the table.
My new bestie tried to catch the beaker, but as I’d noticed after running into her books-first in the dormitory, she was a bit clumsy. The beaker would have been better off if she hadn’t fussed with it. Probably wouldn’t have even fallen.
I could see my future flashing dismally in my eyes as it started to tumble and Charli basically helped it on its way down.
And, of course, who had to be walking down the aisle on Charli’s side at that exact moment?
Charli snagged the tube as it was halfway to the floor, but her momentum kept it going sideways and it ended up looking like she’d just tossed the remnants of her wine glass in someone’s face.
“Someone’s face” in this instance was the back of Genevieve Jade.
Charli let out a short-lived wail.
Genevieve froze, body tightening as the liquid—which was harmless because we were still in “study” mode—splashed on her. Her hands flew up in the air like a bank robber had pulled a gun on her.
All action in the room stopped.
My heart went into overdrive, blood rushing in my ears.
Genevieve slowly wheeled to find Charli still in her “it’s over between us!” pose.
Bruce Kittenson languidly swished his tail, the pure indifference locked on his face.
“Why . . . you little bitch,” Genevieve sneered through gritted teeth, her eyes turning into fiery pits.
“Oh my g-gosh, Genevie-vie, I’m so sorry!” Charli protested, close to tears.
“You don’t get to call me Vivi, you little—”
“Hey! What’s going on back there?” Professor Hawkins called from the front of the class.
I knew Charli or me or both of us were about to get it bad.
“Nothing, Professor,” Genevieve said in her mock sweet voice. “Just had a little spill.”
My brow furrowed. Why the hell didn’t she just throw us under the bus?
“Okay, well—” The professor’s eyes bulged and she pointed. “Is that a fucking cat on the table? Charli, is that your cat? You were supposed to be my favorite!”
Tears streamed down Charli’s face. She looked left and right and stammered, her brain undoubtedly short-circuiting.
“It’s not hers, Professor!” I screamed in her defense. “It’s—”
“I don’t care whose cat it is! No cats aloud in the laboratory! Spirits above, do I have to write a fucking sign? I thought it would’ve been obvious this isn’t a cat-friendly zone.” She muttered to herself and went back to whatever she’d been doing.
I snagged Bruce, hugged him firmly, and petted his little head.
Genevieve leaned in close, her pointer finger an inch from Charli’s face. Her voice fell so only we could hear her. “I’m going to make you pay for that, ginger.”
So that’s why she didn’t throw us under the bus. She has her own devious methods of punishment to dole out . . .
Chapter 12
Coralia
I WALKED OUT OF CLASS with a mortified Charli in tow, my arm wrapped around her shoulder. Bruce was firmly tucked away in my bag.
Charli still sniffled—even half an hour after the incident with Genevieve—and I felt horrible for the poor thing. “It’s okay, Char, everything’s gonna be all right,” I said, trying to console her. “Maybe Genevieve will forget about it?”
Charli’s bottom lip trembled. “If I get murdered, please take care of my ficus. I love that plant. We both know Genevieve Jade will never let me live that down, Cor Cor. Embarrassing her is like a cardinal sin, y’know?”
She might have been a little overdramatic. “I’m such an idiot for bringing Bruce with me.”
“N-No! I love him. I just wish I had more spatial awareness and stuff.”
I gave Charli a sad smile, hugged her, and took my arm off her shoulder so I wasn’t smothering her. Maybe she wanted me to smother her? I wasn’t the touchy-
feely type—I could only do it for so long. I felt bad about getting her in trouble, but I knew she’d be fine. She was a smart cookie. And given her determination to be a good student, I knew she’d be referring to the professor as “Frilly” once again, before too long.
We left the assemblage of white buildings and headed northeast to our next class together, Physical Intent. It was located in a domed building shaped like a football, on the eastern fringe of the huge park that sat in the middle of campus. The top of the dome appeared to be adorned with a big white tarp, and the area was much less crowded than the white-building district.
“That’s where we’re going,” Charli said, pointing at the dome and pointing out the obvious. “The Gable Training Facility. Or the dojo, as students call it.”
My brow pinched together. “Gable? That name sounds familiar.”
“Oh yeah.” Charli nodded profusely. “Do you know Donovenn Gable? It was built by his predecessors or something. Or maybe they just paid to have their name slapped on the awning. Capitalism, y’know?”
“Yeah.” I was a bit speechless, hearing that Venn Gable—the man who had kidnapped me to bring me here, yet the only one other than Charli who had treated me with any sort of kindness so far—had his name etched in the annals of Shadowblade Academy. “Is Venn sort of a big deal?”
“I guess so. I mean, I don’t know his family history, but he doesn’t get treated like a celebrity. Not like Sunny Conway or Genevieve or Finley Winston. So I’m not sure.”
Maybe I’ll have to ask him if I run into him again. I can’t forget why I’m here—to find clues about my missing sister—and any intel in that regard might help. “Finley Winston?” I asked. It was a name I hadn’t heard before.
Charli gave me a tiny smile. “She’s something of a legend here. An upperclassman. People say she’s the best student the academy’s ever had. Even better than Ezekiel Caffrey.”
One side of my mouth curved. “Sounds like you’re fangirling pretty hard there, Charli.”
Her cheeks burned bright. “I just respect her!”
I patted her on the back, still amused. It was pretty obvious to me when someone was smitten, especially when their face lit up like a Christmas ornament every time they got embarrassed, like Charli’s did. “Okay, hun.”
She grumbled something to herself.
“How do you know so much about Shadowblade Academy in the first place, Char? You’re a first-year student like me. Do you have family that went here?”
Her embarrassment fizzled. “Nope. I just did my homework.”
My eyebrows jumped. “How? I thought this place kept all their secrets in-house. Are you saying you can just, like, Google whatever you need to find out?”
Charli snorted. “No, silly. I tracked down leads and harassed people until they told me what I wanted to know. I was obsessed with this place when I was an undergrad at Briarwitch Academy.”
Interesting. Charli’s an amateur sleuth also—probably a better one than me. Though I can’t imagine her “harassing” anyone. Her version of harassment is probably asking someone if they want to buy Girl Scout cookies.
“You went to Briarwitch Academy?” I couldn’t stop myself from prying Charli for info. Everything she said led to more questions. She was far-and-away the best source of knowledge I’d yet found at the Academy.
I felt a little guilty for probing such a nice girl, since I had an ulterior motive. Then again, I told myself I wouldn’t involve her in whatever diabolical shit I eventually found out, if I found anything at all.
“Yep, sure did,” she said, beaming.
“Damn. Lucky you.” I turned away and scratched my chin. It was my turn to feel embarrassed. “I’m a bit, uh, new to all this stuff. Sorry for asking so many questions. I don’t even know what ‘manipulating shadows’ means.”
“That’s why we’re at school, silly.”
I smiled at her infectious grin. Our conversation had brought us to the dojo, where students were filing in through the airy entrance.
My smile died on my lips as I recognized more than a few faces making their way into the training facility: Venn, Dax, Genevieve . . .
“Fuck. They’re here.”
Charli bit her bottom lip so hard it looked like it might start bleeding. “Oh gosh. This isn’t good. This is supposed to be a class for Ghosts! What are Phantoms doing here?”
I mentally steeled myself. I just had to keep telling myself I wouldn’t let anyone’s pettiness ruin my day. For Charli’s sake, I reminded her too. Running my hand over her bony shoulder, I said, “Keep your head up, Char. We got this. Remember, we can’t let them get in our head.”
“Because that’s where bullies like to live,” she finished, nodding with an air of determination.
“That’s right, my friend. Spoken like a true baddie.”
CHARLI AND I FOLLOWED the crowd of girls heading into a locker room. It was a state-of-the-art facility with a sauna, showers, massage chairs—all the amenities I could have hoped for in a gym.
As we shuffled into the large room, Charli told me that Physical Intent was the name for physical combat class—because the “intent” was to do physical harm—which had me a bit worried. I was an active girl, marginally in shape, and I never backed down from a fight, but who knew what sort of martial arts these supernaturals had under their belts?
I honestly had no idea what I was getting myself into. I tried to brush my worry aside. Wallowing wasn’t going to help. There was nothing I could do except show no fear. I figured the professor—coach?—wouldn’t let anyone get too injured.
The young women in the locker room started stripping down to their bras and panties, completely unfazed by the partial nudity. It made sense, because most of the girls were toned as hell and had enviable physiques.
By contrast, I was curvier than most, while Charli was definitely thinner and more petite. We stood out as the odd couple.
Some of the girls chatted with one another as they changed into their Academy-provided black suits. Genevieve was located on the other side of the room, luckily, and was talking with a few people so she didn’t notice Charli or me as we scurried in.
The black suit hanging from the locker in front of me was basically a skintight onesie, almost like a wetsuit. It felt firm but elastic to the touch and had a strange, glimmering sheen when I turned it in my hands.
“These suits are magically enhanced,” Charli told me. “Enchanted for protection.”
“Whoa. High-tech stuff.”
“Yeah, the Academy spares no expense. One of my leads told me these bad boys cost like a hundred grand or something ridiculous to make. Each.”
I blinked, my eyes like saucers. Good God. I imagined what I could do with a hundred grand if I managed to smuggle one of these outside the school. I wouldn’t have to work for years.
“I’m also pretty sure they’re enchanted to zap anyone who tries to leave the dojo with them,” Charli warned, as if reading my mind. “But that could just be an old wives’ tale.”
I quickly changed out of my skirt and shirt and started stuffing my body into the suit. I wasn’t shy about my body, but I didn’t want to be bare for too long, or give anyone a chance to—
“Spirits above, ladies, look at the dump truck on this one,” a familiar voice mockingly said behind me. A few cruel chuckles danced around her—undoubtedly her girl gang having a laugh at my expense. If Mean Girls had taught me anything, it was that every bully had a posse.
I rolled my eyes and turned to meet Genevieve’s haughty smirk. Of course she had managed to catch me when I’d been peeling the suit up over my butt. It wasn’t my fault all the gear in the damn school was meant for runway models.
I also wasn’t about to be body shamed by the bitch.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Genevieve,” I said. “Or are you just jealous you don’t have a badonkadonk to bring all the boys to the yard?”
A twitch of her upper lip made me realize I had gotten her.
She tried playing it off with a snort. “Bitch, what do I have to be jealous about? Have you seen these tits?”
Well, she was standing in her bra, prominently pumping out her chest, so, yeah, I’d say I’d gotten a pretty good look at them.
I shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered. “Pretty sure I have you beat there, too.”
Her face twisted again then quickly smoothed out before she could lose her cool.
For being a bully, it’s surprisingly easy to push her buttons. Guess it comes with the insecure territory.
Her friends had stopped laughing. Since she’d lost her audience and it was clear she wasn’t going to win with me, Genevieve turned her ire on Charli. “And this clumsy little one.” She sneered and took a step toward us. “Shivering like a drenched rabbit. Pest control called, little girl—they want their mosquito bites back.”
She cackled. Her friends joined her, right back in it.
“Don’t pick on her,” I snapped angrily. Who the fuck even are these chicks? Don’t they know this is a school for assassins? They’re really asking for it.
Charli folded her arms over her chest, a sad expression filling her face that broke my heart.
“Skinny Dee and Fatty Dum over here,” Genevieve finished.
“You’re pathetic, Genevieve,” I said.
“Come on Vivi, class is about to start,” one of her friends said.
The mean girls sauntered past us. The other girls in the locker room parted the seas to make way for them. I stood in their way but pivoted at the last moment to let them through.
I would’ve hoped a dangerous, specialized academy like Shadowblade would have outgrown the need for bullies. Alas, some things never changed.
“I hope you’re ready for your payback, little girl,” Genevieve said over her shoulder at Charli, punching a fist into an open palm.
Then they were gone, and Charli slapped her locker.
“It’s okay, hun,” I said. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re still stuck in their high school ways.”
“I suck at standing up for myself. I wish I was as strong as you, Coralia.”
“Hun, I bet you’re stronger than me in ways we don’t even know.”
