I eyed the black leggings and tank as Leslie explained, “Standard issue for all recruits. You’ll find six more sets already waiting in your dorm room along with workout gear. The fabric is breathable and allows you to move easily through the rigorous workouts they’ll put you through. Starla is outside waiting to escort you to your room.”
She opened the door, adding, “Welcome to the SSF. And good luck.”
Twenty minutes later, I was standing in a small dorm room, when Milo poked his head inside.
“Hey, thanks again for earlier.”
“Do I get to know what I helped cover up?”
He hesitated then shut the door and lowered his voice. “His name is Miguel. He bartends in the Quarter and is here illegally.”
“So, are you worried about admitting you’re gay or that your boyfriend is undocumented?”
“Yes.”
My heart hurt for the fear in his eyes. “Milo, the SSF has been accepting of sexual orientation long before humans finally started to come around. They don’t care.”
“Most of them don’t,” he agreed. “But I’m not sure that’s true for Rodrigo Garcia. Word is, he’s a homophobic perv who likes to hit on the female recruits by day and the male recruits by night. I’m not looking to get on his radar, if you know what I mean.”
“I read about him,” I said darkly. “And if he so much as side eyes either of us, I’ll stab him with a rusty fork.”
Milo lifted a brow. “And get kicked out on your ass for doing it.”
“Point taken. I’m sorry you have to lie about being gay.”
Milo hesitated. “That’s not exactly the only reason. What if I told you Miguel’s legal status wasn’t a human problem.”
My eyes widened. “Milo, you slept with a freaking demon?”
He winced. “He’s only a quarter demon. It’s not like he’s got four heads or something. Geez. Although . . .” His eyes lit up. “What if he had four dicks? That would be awesome.”
I shook my head.
Milo tensed. “You’re not going to rat on me, are you?”
“Of course not. I’m the last one to judge.”
He smirked. “Is that because you lied?”
“I don’t care who they think I slept with, although those questions were nosy as hell.”
“I’m not talking about being my faux fornicator. You’re not just a griffin shifter, Gem Hawkins.”
I went still.
How the hell did he know? With my magic gone, I couldn’t sense a rata demon from a cat right now.
“Relax. Your secret’s safe. And now we’re even.”
“You can sense my magic?” I asked.
“I can sense a liar,” he corrected. “A gift that apparently goes beyond magic ability. I got it from my momma, and she can sense a liar from three dimensions away.”
I slumped onto the tiny twin mattress. “Or maybe I just suck at it.”
He laughed.
Through the speaker overhead, a voice sounded. “All recruits, report to the auditorium for orientation.”
Milo and I shared a look.
“Guess that’s us,” I said.
He held out his hand, wiggling his brows. “Ready, lover?”
I let him pull me to my feet, and we started for the door. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Chapter Six
Milo and I followed the other recruits winding their way through the halls and up the stairs. We ended up in a large auditorium with stadium seating.
“Turnout’s impressive,” Milo said as we passed through the open doors.
I barely had a chance to murmur an agreement when a pop rang in my ears and an electric shock shuddered through me.
My skin buzzed as my magic returned.
Milo and I exchanged a look.
“That was trippy,” he said.
“Is this going to be an everyday thing?”
“You get used to it,” said another voice.
I looked over at the woman who’d spoken. Her name tag read Professor Landis.
“It feels like I’m being stripped naked and then redressing in front of everyone,” I told her.
She laughed. “Yeah, I guess it’s easier to adjust if you don’t mind being naked in front of strangers.”
Milo beamed. “Guess I’ve got a leg up then.”
Gran would love him.
I exhaled, relieved at the sensation of feeling whole again, and followed him up the aisle.
By the time we found seats, the space was nearly full. I scanned the faces filling the seats, surprised at how many there were. The building was a lot larger on the inside than it had looked from the outside.
“Half these guys won’t make it,” I said.
“As long as that half doesn’t include us,” Milo said.
Starla, the woman who’d greeted me earlier, stepped up to the center arena. “Attention, please.”
Her voice filled the room as easily as if she’d had a microphone.
The rest of the recruits quieted.
“Welcome to the Supernatural Security Force Training Facility for New Orleans,” she announced.
A large portion of the recruits cheered.
Starla flashed her white teeth then motioned for everyone to quiet again.
“My name is Starla Hoffman, and I’m the training coordinator among other things here at the SSFTF.”
“Angel balls, that acronym is a mouthful,” Milo muttered.
A male recruit in a stiff-collared shirt gave Milo a dirty look. His warlock energy sputtered around his aura in a not-so-promising display. “Watch your mouth,” he said haughtily before promptly ignoring us.
Milo rolled his eyes.
“For the next few months,” Starla continued, “you will be instructed and evaluated in all the ways we can possibly prepare you for demon hunting. That is, of course, the reason you’re here, and while a number of you will earn that title and go on to the prestigious position of detective, many will not.
“Those that don’t show an aptitude for the hunt can still earn an important place among the SSF’s finest. Administrative positions are just as vital to what we do here. Not to mention trainers, portal monitors, and a host of other crucial positions.”
“Portal monitor?” Milo whispered. “Why don’t they just call it what it is: babysitter.”
I snorted.
A brunette in the row ahead of us cleared her throat pointedly.
When Milo winked at her, she glared at him then me.
Starla continued, “Please keep in mind, our trainers are the best there is when it comes to placement. If you fail to display an aptitude or skill set for any of the positions the SSF is currently looking to fill, you may be dismissed. The SSF only takes the best of the best, and we sincerely hope you use this knowledge to dedicate yourself to success while you’re here at the SSFTF, or the ‘Tiff’ as we affectionately call it.”
“The Tiff?” Milo repeated. “Dude. Lame. I could think of such better ideas for—”
“Don’t you have any respect?” The brunette in front of us scrunched up her face as she stared accusingly back at Milo and me. Pale skin. Red eyes. I was too surprised by the fact that she was a vamp to even reply to her.
“Respect, yes. Filter, not so much,” Milo admitted.
“Ugh.” The girl turned away. “Blue collar supes are so annoying.”
Blue collar? Really? Coming from a vamp, I couldn’t help but laugh. Vamps had once been considered a superior race. Until the Nephilim had deemed them demon-spawn and nearly hunted them all to extinction. Now, the label had been lifted but the prejudice had not. Vamps these days were rare. A stuck-up vamp even rarer.
She had balls to talk down to us, I’d give her that.
“There are a few rules to note during your time as a recruit,” Starla went on, an edge creeping into her voice. “First, there will be no intermingling with the other recruits beyond mentorship, sparring partners, and necessary tutoring. Any fraternization outside platon
ic interaction is grounds for immediate dismissal. Second, all magic will be stripped except as provided for necessary combat and skill development while under the guidance of your instructors. Any unauthorized magic use is grounds for expulsion.”
Milo whistled low.
“Strict rules,” I said in a low voice.
“Looks like our lover’s tryst will have to end here.” Milo grinned.
The brunette turned her head just enough that I caught her expression. Her pale face flushed, and she looked sufficiently scandalized.
I choked back a laugh.
“Lastly, for the duration of your training, you will remain here at the Tiff. There will be authorized field trips to test your development as you near the end of your training, but these are the only sanctioned leave times. Otherwise, you are a resident of the Tiff and all cell phone use, television, radio, mobile phones, or any other contact with the outside world is prohibited. We ask that you give us your full concentration and attention until we’ve shaped you into one of our best.”
I’d already known this last part, but it still grated that I wouldn’t be able to check in with my mother until I was finished here.
Starla continued with a warning about how important it was to be on time. “Thank you all for your commitment to the safety of the supernatural community,” she said. “On behalf of the SSF, welcome and good luck.”
On the heel of her words, schedules were conjured, appearing in each of our laps on a soft puff of air.
I grabbed mine and scanned the list of classes then compared it to Milo’s.
A hum of voices rose as the other recruits chatted with their neighbors about shared classes.
“PT at seven a.m.? Are they insane?” I demanded.
“What’s PT?” Milo frowned.
“Physical Training,” I said. When his expression remained blank, I added, “Exercise?”
“Cool, I’ve been meaning to get into shape.”
“You didn’t do anything before coming here?” I asked.
“I thought that’s what the academy was for.”
I stared at him. “I ran two miles a day for the last six weeks just to prepare.”
“I went clubbing Friday and Saturday for the last six weeks. Also to prepare. You think all that dancing counts?”
“I’m going to venture a guess and say no.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, waving away my concern. “My libido’s good for distance.”
I raised a brow. “You know libido and endurance aren’t the same thing, right?”
He winked. “Aren’t they, though? Besides, my PT is in the afternoon. I’ve got plenty of time to carb up. What else you got?”
“We have History and Demon Tracking together,” I said.
“Ugh. Demon Tracking with Rodrigo Garcia,” Milo added, pointing to the name on the schedule.
“At least we can have each other’s backs.”
“The two amigos,” Milo said.
“Want a third amigo?”
I looked up at the male standing on my left. He’d been sitting a few seats away, but now closed the distance with a friendly smile. Dark eyes peered out from behind shaggy hair. He was younger than me by a couple of years, but his arms and chest were bulky with muscle. With my magic back, my fae senses pegged him for a shifter.
Milo perked up, gesturing to the empty chair beside me. “Have a seat, friend.”
“I’m Tony.” The male held out his hand, and Milo took it eagerly.
“Milo.”
“Gem,” I said, shaking my head at Milo’s sexual energy already building.
My fae senses were great at detecting everything from glamours to strange smells, and that included pheromones—especially those of my own kind. If Milo and I were going to be friends, I needed to start sitting downwind in social situations.
“You guys into this whole secret code name Tiff nonsense?” Tony’s brows rose, and the brunette from earlier turned to side-eye him before going back to her own conversation.
“Not nearly as much as that chick is,” Milo said, and Tony grinned.
“That chick’s name is Faith,” she snapped. “And you three are beyond rude.”
My brows lifted as she flipped her hair and motioned to her friends. They all got up and left without another word.
Milo whistled.
“She won’t even need a weapon issued,” he said. “She can just use that stick up her ass.”
Tony snorted.
From across the room, I caught Starla watching us. Unease rippled through me and I had the distinct impression she’d heard us despite the distance and the fact that she was locked in conversation with the professor who’d spoken to us on the way in.
Finally, she looked away, and I turned back to Tony.
“Werewolf?” I asked, noting the shifter scent he gave off.
Tony nodded. “Fae?” he asked, gesturing between us, his gaze darting to each of our pointed ears.
“Guilty,” Milo said.
“Half,” I said.
“Cool.” Tony didn’t ask what my other half was, and I decided right there he was someone I could hang with.
“Hey, you’re fae, right?”
I looked up at a slender girl with dirty blonde hair, and my eyes went wide.
She was soaked. And not just wet but . . . overflowing. Water pooled then ran from the top of her head—which was also draped in what looked like lily pads. The water ran in sheets down the rest of her, soaking the seaweed hanging off her clothes. What the hell?
“Uh, yeah,” I said warily.
“Does that mean you have the power to undo a spell?”
“Depends on the spell,” I said.
“What happened?” Milo asked.
She hesitated then dropped into the empty chair on Milo’s other side. A squish sounded and water began to pool on the chair around her. A steady drip began to puddle on the floor underneath where she sat.
“I think my mom was trying to help make sure I didn’t get distracted by fraternization,” she said with a grimace.
“So she turned you into a koi pond?” Milo asked.
“Basically,” the girl said.
I watched as her hair parted and seaweed began to grow out of her scalp at an alarming rate. More water poured from her forehead onto her shoulders and already soaked clothes.
“Girlfriend, your momma has serious issues with overprotectiveness,” Milo said.
“I know. It wasn’t a problem in the dorms where our magic was stripped but now . . .”
“Now you need some drying out,” I finished.
She nodded.
Milo and I leaned in and together, placed a hand on her arm. Immediately, the warmth of magic rushed through my hand and into her wet skin. My fae senses easily grabbed ahold of the glamour spell that had been cast and shattered it. The water stopped leaking from her head. Seaweed dried out and fell away as the glamour dissolved.
When we sat back, the girl smiled and wrung out her clothes.
“Sorry, you’ll have to change if you want to get completely dry,” I told her.
“No, you’ve done more than enough. Thank you,” she said. “I’m Fiona.”
She held out her hand, and we all shook, offering quick introductions.
When she got to Tony, his eyes lit up with an interested gleam, and he held onto her slender hand longer than necessary.
“Witch?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Not very useful against demon fighting but I plan to study extra hard with weapons to make up for it.”
Her determination was admirable, if not a little worrisome. She was tiny as hell with no muscle build and a jumpiness to her that had me wondering just how effective she’d be against a six-foot demon from Hell. But she was here, which meant the SSF recruiters had seen something promising.
“What’s your schedule?” I asked.
She handed it over, the ink a little runny from where it had gotten wet, and we all compared.
“
Looks like we have Protocol and Policies together,” Tony said, his excitement obvious.
But Fiona was looking at Milo. “What about you?” she asked.
“Nothing in common,” he said with a shrug. “But there’s always meal times.”
She nodded. “I heard one of the other recruits talking about how the kitchen is spelled to offer our preferred foods based on our species. It’s kind of amazing how they can accommodate so many different supes at once.”
“Amazing,” Tony agreed, his entire attention focused on Fiona.
I groaned inwardly. As a fae, that meant nothing but greens. My shapeshifter side was a little more carnivorous than that—not that I could chance telling the staff that.
Milo stood and offered his hand to Fiona. “Come on, my little wet noodle, let’s get you back to your room so you can dry off before lights out.”
“Thanks, I’m exhausted,” she admitted.
“Lead the way.”
Tony and I fell into step behind them, and we made our way out. The magic sizzled then slid away as we passed through the doors that led back to our dorm rooms. I tried not to notice the hollow ache in my chest it left behind.
Tony grimaced. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to that feeling.”
“Tell me about it,” Milo said. “The only stripping I want to do is these clothes from my skin.”
He winked, and the others laughed. I groaned, glad I couldn’t pick up on all the pheromone scents that would follow a comment like that.
Chapter Seven
Milo was waiting for me when I emerged from my room the next morning. PT had been as bad as expected. Maybe worse. We’d started with a two-mile run for warm-up with promises for three miles tomorrow. Then, it had been weight lifting and resistance training for another hour on top of that. I was already exhausted, and I hadn’t even made it to breakfast yet. Even the hot shower afterward hadn’t done much to soothe my already-sore body.
“Whoa, you look like—”
“I need coffee.”
“Exactly what I was going to say.”
I shot him a look as we fell into step.
“Is this going to be a thing?” I asked as we made our way to the dining hall.
Kiss of Death (Supernatural Security Force Book 1) Page 5
