Quiet Burn (Discordia University #2)

Head Like A Hole

Kit/Kat

I know that the Fae guy and that fuckwit Roquefort are definitely problems. At least that narrows my question marks down to three—not that it will help me if they have secret alliances with any of the random enemies I’ve made or are jealous of my affiliation with my guys. Well, not my guys, but…

For fuck’s sake, Kat, focus!

That reminder comes a split second before my body moves on its own, ducking under the blast of orange magic that is headed right for my face. I didn’t see who launched it, but they weren’t playing around. If my instincts hadn’t kicked in despite my distraction, I would have been out for the count within seconds. Or, I assume so, since there’s a chorus of chuckles emanating from the demons in my immediate area. I don’t have to wonder if all of my group dislike me now; it’s plainly obvious they all want to see me go down, even if I don’t get up.

“Fucking fabulous,” I mutter low, as I sharpen my focus, dancing around our space on light feet. Avoiding the bad folks in my previous life helps me, but I can’t be certain these fuckers won’t break the rules of engagement and enhance their own bodies, not just their weapons. Demons operate on very specific wording and as far as I can remember, Jasper’s orders did not include a ban on self-enhancement.

I’m sure that was on purpose because that dick knows exactly what he’s saying at all goddamned times.

“Have something to say, dead demon walking?” Roquefort taunts as he watches me with a sinister grin. “I’m sure we can repeat your last words to your little harem when you’re gone.”

Sighing in annoyance, I eyeball one of the unknown demons. Furon will go for Roquefort while he’s distracted. These other three dudes don’t seem to be powerful or connected, because I’ve never seen them with anyone who worries me. That’s a guess, of course, but my time so far at Discordia has suggested that the most imminent threats aren’t satisfied unless they make themselves known.

I could do without the comical villain bragging, though. It’s super cliched, and I want to vomit every time.

“No answer? Not surprise since you’re such a tiny, weak little fuck.”

My temper flares and I whip my head around, eyes boring into the asshole’s as I let a smirk come over my face. “Funny, your mom said just the opposite last night—over and over until her voice gave out.”

A guffaw from the next group makes me grin more, and it only takes a few moments before it spreads. Roquefort’s face goes red like a fucking tomato, and he stomps forward as if he’s going to come for me, but that’s when Furon tackles him from the side. My gambit worked, so I swallow my smug glee to look at the two demons battling on the other side of our circle, frowning when I don’t see the one I need to fight. A burning sensation hits me in the shoulder and I curse under my breath as it spreads over my entire body.

Way to lose track of the goddamned enemies, Kat.

Gritting my teeth against excruciating pain, I turn around to face the medium-sized dude. I don’t know his name, but he’s wielding what I think is a crossbow that’s surrounded by an emerald green energy. I drop into a fighting stance again, holding my tossers as I mutter the words Anton whispered to me before we split into the groups. Nothing happens, but a dark, angry feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. It makes me want to double over, especially paired with the burning in my back, but I fight it hard.

Years of fighting out-of-control emotions due to my condition take over as the sick sensation tries to wrestle its way to the forefront of my mind. It makes my veins ache and my jaw tight, but I lift my hands again to try to focus on the demon that looks way too pleased with himself. “You won’t beat me this way, asshole. Whatever you did can’t possibly compare with what my brain does to me on its own.”

“Oh, I very much doubt that, chew toy.” The guy doesn’t even flinch at my retort, only stands in place looking relaxed. “Everyone knows you’re useless without your body guards. That’s why you’re fucking them—like in a human prison movie.”

Did this motherfucker just allude to me being their bitch?

Blatant misogyny and homophobia aside, no one owns me. Fury starts in my feet, working its way up my frame to battle with the ugly magic that wants me to abandon my circle to seek out something other than this fucking guy. I don’t know what he’s trying to force me to do, but he can suck my nonexistent dick if he thinks I’m going to let him get away with calling me someone’s property. I suck in a deep breath, embracing the anger inside of me like I did in the cafeteria. It builds, pushing upward until it’s slowly drowning out this asshole’s green poison.

Unfortunately, that’s not all it does. Panic sets in when I realize it’s basically coating the inside of me with that dangerous emotion until it settles under my skin like a shield. This is something new and I have no idea how to control it or what to do with it. Not good doesn’t really cover the amount of anxiety that causes, so I let one of the goddamn throwing weapons fly at my opponent before I lose control completely. My jaw drops when everything around me seems to slow and the damn thing turns end over end until it hits a mark I couldn’t possibly have aimed for and accomplished on my own.

Much like a John Woo movie, my projectile moved like liquid through the air to imbed itself right in the snarky cockwaffle’s eyeball—what. the. actual. fuck.

Everything snaps into place as he lets out an ear-splitting scream of pain, and misfires his stupid crossbow. Diving to the ground to make sure I don’t get hit, I breathe heavily, my eyes wild as I try to figure out what in Satan’s crispy goat legs just happened. There’s a commotion, something that sounds like Jasper’s barking orders, and other sounds that barely make it past the rushing in my ears, but all I can do is count my breaths. When I finally regain control, I notice that Furon is still fighting with Roquefort across the circle, and there are some weird looking things that might be imps surrounding my former opponent.

A hand grabs mine and I almost bite it in defense until I scent Oriel. His eyes are shining with something that might be pride —I’m not quite sure since I haven’t seen it often—and he hauls me to my feet quickly. Another voice yells his name, so he winks and lets go before darting back to his group. I guess he’s not supposed to do that, and I need to get my shit together again.

Okay, Kat, one down. Just don’t think about it; keep swimming for shore.

My anxiety is often like drowning, and I remind myself that there’s a shore when I need to push it aside. Sometimes, it works, and others, it doesn’t, but the adrenaline pumping through me now is helping. I am a survivor in every sense of the word and this place, these demons—they will not beat me. Squaring my shoulders, I look for the two randos I identified earlier. They’re still battling, one having a golden glow to his staff and the other having a red tint to his huge broadsword. I can’t tell which one is powerful, but I think I’d like to go up against the staff guy more since he looks smaller. He moves again and I blink—or maybe not, because that jackass is fast.

“ Get that loser out of his group!”

I turn to the sound of Jasper’s voice, noting he’s directing another set of the spooky looking beings to grab a prone body from the group X is in. My chest gets tight until I see the glamorous demon straightening their athletic gear with a quirked eyebrow as the fallen dude is moved out of their area. Xerxes barely looks like they've broken a sweat, and their hair is as perfect as when we walked in.

Fuck that pretty demon must be good; the guys weren’t joking.

The whooshing sound to my left gets my attention and I curse internally when I realize I was so worried about X that I missed the sword guy finally knocking out the staff guy. That means it’s time for me to move my ass or I’m going to be the one on the stretcher. I lick my lips as I consider his bigger build and think about the weight of his weapon. Being smaller and having lighter weapons will help me, but I’m not as fast as the staff guy, so it won’t be enough. I need to be smarter and faster than him if I want to make it past this dude.

“Scared, small fry? You should be,” he says as he stalks across the area where our group is fighting. “I’m going to crush you like a grape and reap the rewards of my success.”

“Okay, Game of Thrones villain,” I mumble as I look inward again. The golden glow is still inside of me, but it’s not doing anything, so maybe Anton’s spell is wearing off? Fuck, I wish I knew more about how anything of this shit worked before this crap started. Clearing my throat, I decide to use one of my most accessible weapons to distract the asshole—my mouth. “That threat would be a lot more worrisome if I had any idea who the fuck you are, moron. How scary is random dude number five supposed to be?”

His brows furrow for a moment, then he glares at me when he gets what I meant. That gap in understanding tells me he’s not too bright and I can use that. Making him do brain work will give me time to react to whatever he’s going to throw at me. “Everyone knows who Budet of Gluttony is! I’m a battling champion, as are my father and brothers.”

Shrugging, I load my fingers with the throwing star thingies. “Sorry, Bidet. No one’s ever mentioned you. I’d hire a new PR firm—and maybe consider not using an ass-cleaner as your fighting name? That’s just me, though.”

His roar cuts through the air, but it’s not as loud as the asshat Prince’s, so it doesn’t make me flinch. I just grin, muttering the words Anton gave me over and over, hoping it will kickstart whatever I need to fight off that big ass magical sword as the dude gets closer. “I will feed your bones to the creatures in the Wastes!”

For real, is this corny line shit taught demons or do they just naturally say dumb shit?

My eyes track him as the bolt in my back continues to burn. It doesn’t hurt as much as before, but I don’t have time to deal with it. Pushing it to the place in my mind I’ve pushed injuries in the past, I narrow my gaze. I know I can do this, even if I don’t know if I’ll be able to beat Furon or Roquefort afterward. When toilet demon gets close enough that I have to dodge his blade, I move, pleading with whatever magic I should be using to fucking do something before I get skewered.

“Come on, come on…. Annie gave me your help…” I murmur as my opponent parries and attacks, forcing me to continue dancing away as I pray for help. “I just have to injure him enough to make sword fighting hard. It’s not asking for a lot.”

That’s when the darkness lodged deep inside of me that I try to ignore lifts its head and smiles.

Oh, shit.