Time Warp
Kit/Kat
A loud crack echoes through the room and it startles everyone into silence—even Jasper. He doesn’t flinch, of course, but his scowl deepens as our Headmaster cuts his icy gaze around the room. Dottie scrambles close to me and I cuddle her while we all wait for the pompous dickbag to speak.
“Good evening elite students of Discordia,” Lucian begins. His voice booms without a microphone and I arch a brow at Oriel, who grins and mimics waving a wand. “Tonight you will receive materials outlining the changes we will implement throughout the week to support your caliphates in their quest to conquer the upcoming challenges. It is your responsibility, caliphate leaders, to ensure your team members review this thoroughly and prepare themselves.”
I frown when I realize that he’s called a gathering of maybe a hundred or so people who are already the richest, most powerful demons in school to give them a cheat sheet. “What a fucking douche canoe,” I mutter under my breath.
X snickers next to me, then slips their hand over to squeeze mine. “Nice.”
Keeping my eyes on the psycho at the podium, I wink. Jasper gives both of us a reproachful look, then aims his displeasure at Salem. I forgot to pay attention when the dramatic villain entrance happened and the panda dozed off within the short span of time. I elbow him in the ribs, waiting until his eyes open. “Stay awake, man. Between the pouty prince and this prima donna, you’ll get your ass beat somehow if you’re caught.”
He gives me a sleepy grin as he shrugs. “Arrogance bores the hell out of me and it is my low energy time. Not my fault, Kit Kat.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to end up scrubbing toilets or stuck in some weird prison.” I tilt my head, realizing I have no idea what kind of punishment Lucian would hand out. “There aren’t torture rooms here, right?”
“Later,” Oriel hisses. “You’re going to get us all bitched at guys.” The crow shifter glares and I make a motion like I’m zipping my lips, tuning back into the long-winded speech about the long tradition of the Caliphate Games.
Leaning down, I grab my tablet out of my bag and pull out the stylus so I can take notes. The thoughts racing around my head are hard to pin down, and I know I’ll want to come back to this. Zav grins at me slightly as I start scribbling my random questions and concerns on the app. His shy efforts are slowly chipping away at the ice wall I built up when he was so cowardly. I’m surprised to find I want to repair that bridge and find the funny gamer I saw on the first day.
The speech drones on and I realize Headmaster Darkstar is extremely full of himself. Some people just like to hear themselves talk, but there’s something more sinister in this speech. He’s mentioned the ‘glorious outcome’ twice now, and I know the guys told me the current royals of Hell waged war after they won. It’s not a big leap to think he has plans for the end of the Games, but who the fuck is he going to use to accomplish them?
I f he’d shut up, I could try to figure out who his pawns are.
I blink when Lucian stops speaking suddenly. The room seems to freeze in place around me and panic rises in my throat. I don’t know what the hell is happening, but when I look at the guys, they’re also stuck. Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly as I try to get my heart rate under control. Obviously, I can move, but everyone else, including Dottie, is as still as a gorgon gallery. A soft chuckle escapes me when I realize I wouldn’t have used that simile a week ago, so I’m definitely assimilating to this damn school.
“Okay, Kit,” I whisper. “You have no idea why the fucking shit everything is paused, but you wanted time and you’ve got it. The only way to keep from having a full blown panic episode is to distract yourself. So who is Darkstar looking at? What teams are in his pocket?”
Pushing to my feet, I cradle Dottie in my arms while I run my gaze over the pre-formed caliphates. If I’m correct in my assumptions, there are about forty or so, ranging from four to six team members. No one is sitting in a group as big as ours, and I wonder if the only reason we’re getting away with it is because of who Jasper is. That would paint the target on the Prince bigger since he has more back-up. But then, when the guys formed their boy band as kids, no one expected these games to ever happen again—at least, that’s what I assume.
Will they let the smaller teams pull in more members?
I put that on my list of questions to talk to the guys about later. Zav needs to add the entire process behind forming caliphates and the history of these damn challenges to those cards. I can’t be an effective team member if I’m both a knowledge and a behavior liability. Not having magic is bad enough; adding ignorance and lack of control to it means I’ll be their weak spot. I don’t like that idea one bit.
Shaking my head to clear those intrusive thoughts, I go back to studying the people in the Triclinium before whatever magic bullshit this is wears off. There’s a group in the back that has my new nemesis, Roquefort, in it, and I’d bet my favorite fidget ring he’s one of Lucian’s lackeys. That might be wishful thinking because it would make me feel better about the guys raining fire on him now that I’m ‘theirs’, even if it’s pretend.
A weird vibe makes me shiver and I turn, looking at the table behind me near the left wall. The demons sitting there seem intense as fuck, and their expressions are determined. I’m not good at identifying demon types by sight or scent yet, so I don’t know what they are. What I do know is they’re not all the same, and they exude a vibe that makes my skin crawl.
Whoever they are, they’re going on my suspect list.
I pin-point a few more options, then drop back to my seat to make a brief sketch of the room with all my question marks notated. My pulse slows as I look at it, feeling a lot better about who the competition is and how we’re going to identify Lucian’s puppets. That was all I needed; a little time to gather my thoughts so I can move forward.
Just like that, the room unfreezes like nothing happened and my jaw drops.
Did I do that?
“Did you guys notice anything weird about that speech?”
My eyes widen as I turn to look at X. They pluck a bit of their salad off their plate, holding it up for me to try, and I lean in, taking the bite automatically. I was hoping they’d expound so I’m not worried I dreamt the whole ‘time skip’. The dressing they put on this is delightful—light, tangy, and sweet—so I raise my hand to give them a thumbs up while I chew.
“Good on you, Kit Kat. The nightshade greens are death for humans, but for us demons, they’re magical enhancers. You should definitely eat more of them,” Salem says as he watches me with a proud smile. “I can’t believe you’re so willing to just try shit without knowing what it is.”
I shrug. “What else am I going to do…. starve? I think not.”
Jasper snorts, looking up from his now clean plate of unidentifiable Hell fare. “To answer your question, X, I agree. It was weird as fuck and there’s… something… about it bothering me. I feel like I missed something.”
Like a ten minute span of time where I played detective?
“Yes. It is puzzling.” Slash looks at the prince, his brow furrowing for a moment, then he turns back to the rest of us. “Salem is right. Nightshade intake should increase.”
Sighing, I squint over at the big guy. “You’re not my trainer, and I can hear just fine.”
“That’s an idea,” the prince says as he snaps his fingers. “A good one, in fact. Slash, you will help us train the pleb. You’re already doing some of the work, and this is one of your most useful skills.”
I can’t help the look of horror on my face as the shark shifter gives me a smug, tooth-filled grin from his seat. My palm slaps the table and I hiss, “You don’t get to assign people to harass me, Eversore. That’s not what I agreed to.”
He shakes his head, looking amused as he sips his coffee. “I believe you’ll find that you agreed to a very open-ended bargain in reference to the dating situation. Your caliphate oath placed you under our protection and training you for this life-threatening event is within our purview. As the leader of the caliphate, I’m giving that task to the person most capable.”
God fucking damn him, he’s right. I want to punch him in the nuts so hard he pukes.
“Ugh,” I growl as I throw my hands up. “Fine. Slash can confer with Salem then because he’s the one who does the most with food. But the first person who keeps me from eating dessert is getting their balls turned into an earbuds case. Got it?”
I want to look threatening, so I point my fork at the Prince, stabbing the air a couple times. He merely smirks, and Oriel chuckles behind his hand. Looking at the rest of the guys, I notice their sheepish expressions, and I know Jasper has won this round. That demon just sicced his fucking mother hen general on me and I don’t have a leg to stand on if I complain.
“As for the rest of your training, I believe Zavida will be the best one to?—”
“Ha!” I stab the air again, my expression triumphant. “Zav and I already planned to study together. You’re too late, asshat. Suck on that.”
X chokes, picking up their napkin and wiping their mouth. “Damn it, Kit Kat. You can’t say that shit when I’m drinking.”
Shrugging, I give the Prince a smug smile and bat my lashes. He frowns, tilting his head and panic races through me. Shit, too girly… fuck, fuck. Clearing my throat, I paste a scowl on my face as I glare back. “Stop staring at me, dickface. It’s not my fault you’re too slow.”
Please let that distract him.
“That’s the kind of initiative you should be taking,” Jasper says in a non-committal voice. “I wouldn’t have to take charge if you’d focus, Kit.”
Anton snorts this time, giving his leader a wry look. “Dude, you always take charge, even when we have shit handled. But I think Zav, Slash, and Salem are good picks. What I don’t like is the shared odd sensation we had during that meeting, and our theories about why Darkstar held it. He’s definitely up to something.”
“Yes, he is.” Jasper scratches his jaw, his handsome face marred by the warring emotions on it. “I don’t know if he intended to size up the teams, scare people, or simply soak up glory like the self-centered prick he is. But putting all the powerful caliphates in this room has a purpose beyond giving us early insight into the Games structure.”
“What the fuck is with that, by the way?” I ask as I spear a tomato-like thing on my plate. “I get that it’s Hell, and that all the fuckers in here are probably rich, but what’s the point of having a competition if you’re stacking the deck? Won’t it be boring?”
Oriel finally gives up the dessert he’d been withholding when my tray looks pretty empty and I squeal happily, only to turn bright red when they all stare at me. “Uh, you really like this shit, huh?”
Why am I so stupid tonight? I’m going to fuck everything up and I have no idea how to stop it.
Ducking my head as I get myself under control, I rake my hand over my short locks then look up at them. “Dessert wasn’t a foregone conclusion at most of my homes. I like having sweet things whenever I want versus an occasional special treat when I’m lucky.”
“Damn it,” Salem mutters as he bumps my shoulder with his. “Now I’m going to make as much sweet shit as I can and no one can stop me—not even you, Scrum.”
Slash eyes me as I dig into the treat, his eyes glittering as he nods. “Agreed, chef. Provide things to make him happy and we will work around that.”
That’s not what I expected him to say at all—who would have known?