by Lucy Auburn
“Horror of all horrors,” Ezra says mockingly. “Not class participation.”
“I know.” I flop belly-down on my bed, groaning into the pillows. “It is horrifying. Almost as horrifying as Shimmer changing Pixie Resistance class to Pixie and Siren Resistance. She seriously expects me to summon sirens just for the other phoenix to practice against.” I cast my eyes balefully at my desk. “I wish I hadn’t told her that my research found extra arcane symbols for siren summoning. To think, I could’ve lied.”
“It’s not that bad.” Sebastian trails his incorporeal fingers down my back, making shivering shocks of pleasure dance across my skin. “We’ll be with you for the worst of it. You don’t have to hide us away anymore.”
“I liked having a demonic secret,” I grumble. Turning onto my back, I stare up into his blue eyes, which are watching me closely. “You’re right, though. I shouldn’t complain. It would’ve been nice to have better training when Meyer attacked.” I wiggle on the bed as Sebastian’s fingers dip below my waist, warmth suffusing my body between my hips. “Maybe I’ll learn something about my powers by using them more.”
“There’s one other thing.” Ezra’s voice catches my attention. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and we’ll be with you in at least one of your classes if not more, but we were hoping maybe some of that time could be one-on-one.”
The pleasure of Sebastian’s touch is making my brain slow, so it takes me a moment to catch up. “You mean like... dates? Sharing a single strand of spaghetti Lady and the Tramp style?”
Mateo makes a face. “I don’t share food.”
“We can’t exactly go off campus,” Lynx points out, “but there are ways around that. We’ve spent time together one-on-one before.”
Ezra nods. “We want to get to know you.”
Sebastian lowers his mouth down to my ear. “I can think of a few ways to get to know you.”
Warmth travels up and down me, ears to clavicle to chest, and I have to force myself to slide out from under Sebastian’s touch. It’s almost dinner time, after all, and we’ve done plenty of that all winter break.
“You all want this?” I give them each a measured look. “Like, you voted or whatever?”
Wrinkling his nose, Mateo complains, “You make it sound all official. We’re not a city government.”
Ezra ignores him. “We came to an agreement, yes. Four on one is nice,” I lick my lips, “but there’s something to be said for getting to know the rare phoenix your soul is permanently bonded to. And we can’t exactly do that when Mateo won’t shut up for five fucking seconds.”
Lynx adds, “And Sebastian can’t keep his hands to himself,” with a disapproving look at the pleasure-giving demon, who just fixes him with a blasé no-fucks-given smirk. “It’s hard to have a real conversation.”
“Okay.” Taking it all in, I nod my assent. “We’ll find time for dates this semester. In between the new classes, Shield training with Petra, group combat drills on the weekend, researching Grim powers... there’s got to be time. I mean, a girl’s gotta eat, right? So why not make a date out of it.”
And somewhere between all that I’ll try to find time to sleep so I don’t collapse of exhaustion.
Monday, 2:00 PM: Group Combat with Jared Fisk | Ezra, Sebastian, Lynx & Mateo
The thing about demons is, they only obey you if you make them obey. They’re not exactly suggestible creatures, prone to going along and doing what they’re told. It’s actually a miracle the quartet get along with each other at all, much less with any outsiders.
But the thing about Jared Fisk, Group Combat instructor, battle-scarred and bulky, is that he’s not just a bull shifter. He’s bull-headed and prone to stubbornness. When the going gets tough, he digs his heels in and doubles down.
Which is how I find myself watching Ezra and Mateo, of all demons, argue with my instructor at 2:00 PM in the combat field while all the assembled students watch from a distance.
A considerable distance.
“I’m telling you, flanking is the wrong choice.” Ezra’s sword has been replaced with a dulled, edgeless blade from Kade’s collection, but the way he brandishes it makes it clear he’s pretty sure he could do some damage if he really tried. “We should do a pincer movement. It’s the best formation for a group like ours: head on and straightforward. If you’re going to keep us from using our abilities...”
Mateo, meanwhile, is pouting silently over the fact that his grenades, bombs, generally unstable explosives, and even his gun have been taken from him. Fisk decided, for the obvious reasons, that they were all too dangerous for combat drills—even the gun with blanks in it could cause serious damage up close.
To replace them, he’s given Mateo a slingshot and a set of weighted stones.
Needless to say the explosives-loving demon is not pleased with this. I’m pretty sure he’s considering making Fisk forget every single moment of his life, maybe even turning him into a drooling vegetable. As far as Mateo is concerned there’s nothing worse than being denied his demonic right to blow shit up with careless abandon.
“Alright.” Fisk is beginning to realize that the instant he put my demons on the schedule he was no longer in charge. I’d laugh at the look on his face if I weren’t pretty sure he would shift into his bull form and gorge me with his horns for my troubles. “We’ll do it your way. I do want the students to learn how to fight demons, after all. But next class, follow my lead. Otherwise the whole lesson plan will wind up FUBAR by the end of the semester.”
Ezra gives his most beneficent, false-as-fuck smile. “Of course.”
And he proceeds to almost completely take over, leaving the teacher watching on the sidelines as he repeatedly—and soundly—beats the shifter students in the class despite the four-to-one odds.
For my part, I go where Ezra nudges me or Lynx guides me with a hand on my elbow, but I mostly just stay behind them and send the occasional fist of black-and-orange flame at the shifters’ feet to singe the grass. It’s almost easy.
If this is what class is like with the guys in it, I have to find a way to get them invited to history.
Chapter 20
“Dinner on the roof.” Ezra leans up against the glass dome that looks down on Headmaster Towers’ office, a smirk playing on his perfect lips, dark hair tousled back from his forehead. “A little predictable on your part. Though I suppose it was short notice...”
I raise a brow in his direction, frowning. “We’re kind of trapped in here. And I’m not used to having to woo a guy, you know—especially one who’s been bound to me by fate.”
Of all things, he actually pouts at me. It makes him look like he’s a fellow underclassman at the academy with me, not a who-knows-how-old demon with an ageless mid-20s face.
Placing a hand against his heart, he whines, “How quickly you take us for granted. A couple of brief weeks together over the winter break is all it takes, apparently.”
“Oh, hush.” I step towards him and put my palms on his chest, enjoying the steady rise of his breath, the even beating of his heart—beats that skip as I press against him, jacket falling open, nipples hard against my shirt from the cool winter air. “I could never take you for granted.”
“Mmmm.” Ezra leans back, his sword hilt pressed against the glass of the dome. “You must be very hungry. You brought enough dinner up here for four or five meals, instead of your usual three.”
“What can I say, I’m insatiable.” I tilt my chin up, enjoying the dance of moonlight reflected in his green eyes. “The food is probably getting cold.”
“Let it.”
He captures my lips in his own, letting me taste his hunger. His arm sweeps around my lower back and draws me close, crushing me against him. I can feel his hungry desire pressing on my thigh as he claims my mouth. Ezra’s kisses are the warmth I need in the chill air, his tight embrace the strength that keeps me standing.
Until my stomach audibly gurgles against him, and he breaks our kis
s to dissolve in helpless laughter. I scowl as he presses his mouth to my hair, hand cupping the back of my head, guffaws tickling the side of my neck.
He keeps laughing.
And laughing.
It takes several long moments for him to stop, and by the time he does I’m thoroughly irritated. Pulling away from me, he presses his fingers to the underside of his eyes, dashing away tears of laughter. His amusement doesn’t fade even when I scowl up at him, thoroughly embarrassed.
My stomach growls a second time, which doesn’t help. “It wasn’t that funny,” I mutter up in his direction.
“Oh, but it was.” Taking my hands, he warms my cold fingers up between his broad, warm palms. “I think we’d better grab that food and bring it inside before it freezes.”
“Already ahead of you.” Dashing over to the table, I grab a whole armful of rolls and motion for Ezra to get the roast beef, potatoes, and carrots. “We’ll reheat it in the study downstairs. There’s a microwave there and no one will—”
A sound interrupts my sentence, so loud and harsh I almost drop the rolls, which would’ve been the worst thing in the world. It’s the watchtower klaxon, coming from the tower just beside the Great House, a distant, glowing light. The thing is supposed to warn us when a newborn phoenix is under attack, but it’s not supposed to be that loud. This alarm is completely new.
And definitely alarming.
As the klaxon fades, I see a silhouette overhead. A hawk flies from the top of the watchtower towards the roof where we stand: Olivia. She plummets in a graceful dive that turns into a shift, landing her feet-first near the dome.
Her hair sweeps around her head, eyes wide with alarm. “The watchtower’s new system is detecting an intruder on the west side of campus. Near the shifter pavilion.”
Ezra loosens his sword in its sheath, surging to the edge of the roof. “Any identifying details? Number, type?”
“Nothing clear yet, but we have to prepare. It’s my job to warn the headmaster.” Glancing over at me, she adds, “Don’t do anything stupid,” just before she takes off down the stairs.
“Me, do something stupid?” I stuff one of the rolls in my mouth—everyone needs energy when a fight is around the corner. “Che muff be mifruhfruh—”
“I’ll stop you there, you’re unintelligible.” Ezra narrows his eyes, seeing something in the darkness. A grin spreads across his face. “I think I know what we’re dealing with, and it’s nothing I haven’t taken down before. Care to join me in a little chase?”
I swallow my roll with effort and pout at him. “We were going to have a date.”
“And this is even better.” His eyes practically dance with mischief. “Don’t worry, Dani, I’ll get you dinner after. I know it’s that or lose my fingers to your appetite.”
“Fine. If that’s what you want to waste your date doing...”
He grins. “Let’s go.”
I follow him reluctantly at a fast pace down the stairs and through the Great Hall’s back door. Once outside, we dash down the path that leads to the watchtower—and beyond it, the shifter pavilion.
"Where is it?"
"Almost there—there it is!"
He points at a distant silhouette. My phoenix-enhanced eyes focus on it, and I almost laugh: it’s a lesser demon, a worm subtype I’ve summoned dozens of times in practice.
“That’s it?” Falling into fighting position at Ezra’s side, I let my powers surge to my fingertips and flash into black-orange flames in the air around me. “We could kill that with a thought.”
“It’s likely a scout. Best not to let it map much more.” He takes a cautious step towards the worm demon; while it has a very weak sense of sight, its preternatural sonic sense of hearing lets it map terrain and report back to its master. “I’ll aim for its lower antennas. Once they’re disabled it’ll be useless. Flank it.”
“Got it.”
As Ezra creeps slowly towards the demonic worm, I move to the right to take up position on its flank. We both pause when the thing snuffles towards the ground, sensing vibrations, then move again as it raises its snout—or gaping tooth-filled monster maw, you might call it.
I can hear every breath I take echo in my ears, can feel the crunch of leaves and grass beneath my feet. There’s something thrilling about avoiding the thing’s notice and hunting it down, even if it is just a base, unevolved creature.
When I get about three feet away from it, Ezra holds up a hand, signaling for me to stop. I let the black fire climb my forearms as he approaches the demon thing, swinging his sword up, prepared to hack it to pieces.
The worm presses its snout to the ground again.
Ezra, soundlessly, lets his sword fall in a devastating arc. His blade severs half its faceless maw off. As the thing squeals in pain with the rest of what constitutes its face, I throw fire out from my hands, scorching the rest of its body. It burns up and turns into a gooey mess of black ash and demon guts in seconds.
Triumphant, I turn to Ezra, who’s wiping the goo off his sword onto the ground. He smirks at me. “See? Way better than a cold rooftop.”
“I didn’t know killing demons could be foreplay.”
Sheathing his sword, Ezra unfurls from his crouch and reaches out to grab my hand. He draws me to him, my black-and-orange fire subsiding at his touch. Just when he’s about to kiss me, though, a throat noisily clears behind us.
“I assume the problem has been dealt with.” I look over my shoulder and spot the headmaster approaching us, bright red fire swirling behind her shoulders in a wing shape. “What was our intruder this time?”
“A simple demon,” Ezra responds, not even bothering to take a step away from me, his hand cupping my hip. “You should adjust the sensitivity of your watchtower alarm. It brought the sky down over a worm.”
“Unfortunately we can’t do anything about its reaction band until the semester is over. The mages we hired to adjust its spellwork are incredibly busy and expensive—and very hard to get in contact with. It was difficult enough to get them to adjust the watchtower’s alarms in the first place.”
She approaches the demon goo on the ground, illuminating it with the light of her flames. “It doesn’t look like much of a threat, but I don’t like what its presence indicates. A Grim must have summoned it and sent it on campus, but to what end?”
“It maps things,” I tell her. “I’ve never summoned its particular species before—only similar ones—but it’s fairly simple to do. It wouldn’t take much power. The tough part would’ve been getting it on campus in the first place.”
Ezra offers, “I think I can explain that part.”
“Oh?” Headmaster Towers faces him, and he turns towards her, taking his warmth away from me—but leaving his hand cupping the curve of my hip. “Do tell.”
“These things work on a time delay. They’re given instructions when they’re summoned, and then they bury themselves beneath the earth. I think this was one of Meyer’s, planted here last semester and told to sleep for a month or so. Then it woke up in time to map the campus for him when the semester started up again.”
I point out, “The other worm types I’ve summoned can only stay asleep underground for ten, fifteen minutes at most.”
“This one was more evolved. It had two sets of antennae.” Motioning towards the headmaster, he adds, “But you can always ask Meyer to be sure. He has no reason to lie about it.”
“Other than the fact that he enjoys manipulating people,” I mutter. Ezra’s hand leaves my hip to snake around my lower back, drawing me close—for comfort, I think. What I really want is for something else demonic to show up for us to kill.
I’ve been stuck on campus for too long. I’m starting to get cabin fever.
Headmaster Towers inclines her head in Ezra’s direction. “I’ll ask Meyer about it the next time I visit the prison colony.” Her eyes flick to me. “You could come with me.”
“No thanks.”
“Very well.” Looking up towards
the watchtower, she tells us, “I have to go let the students on duty know that it’s been taken care of, and was more than likely a false alarm. It doesn’t seem there’s any Grim on campus, or any other threat. Thanks for your help, you two.”
I watch her go, wondering idly how often she visits Darkness Island, and what exactly it is that she does while she’s there. Negotiate for information, maybe; at a certain point, all the Grims kept there have to go stir crazy enough to be willing to loosen their lips in exchange for extra privileges.
Somehow I doubt she’ll get Meyer to spill his dirty secrets, though. After being alive for so long he’s got to be adept at staying tight-lipped. The only way we’ll be finding out anything more about him will be by translating more of his journals from Old Dutch and figuring out any cipher he used to keep his darkest secrets in the dark.
“Let’s go get dinner.” Ezra brushes his lips against my forehead and grabs my hand. “The food on the roof is probably cold by now, but I bet you can convince the kitchen to whip us up something.”
I have the feeling it won’t be me doing the convincing, but rather the tall, impossibly handsome, green-eyed demon with a sheathed katana at my side. Ezra tends to do the talking even with his mouth closed.
Maybe I can get them to give me two desserts.
If anything, the false alarm tonight has reminded me that there can always be more danger around the corner at any moment. So it’s always a good idea to get an entire slice of cake in while you still can. It’s an eat or be eaten supernatural world out there.
Chapter 21
The charcoal dust tickles my nose as I draw the arcane symbol for summoning a siren on the ground. Black lines are the best way to summon demonic creatures, and paint wasn’t an option, at least according to Shimmer. So I took some charcoal from the art elective building—even shifters need to get creative sometimes I guess—to use for the summoning.
