Chapter Four
Farren
A s I sip my coffee, I look around at the guys.
I heard them talking last night, and although I don’t want them to figure out what’s going on with me and more importantly, my father, I figure that the best way to throw them off is to be more open with them about the things that I am willing to share.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t leave much to be honest about, but a small part of me is telling me that I’m in the right place, and this is where I’m supposed to be.
That’s pathetic thinking, and I know that, so I push it away.
I ignore the snort from Poca. He's clearly listening in on my thoughts and finding them amusing. I have no idea why he decided to show up this morning. We had both agreed that while I was here he would stay away. As far as I’m aware, there’s only one person with a familiar, and hers is a reasonably normal animal, certainly not a freaking hellhound.
Poca being a hellhound however, does have its perks.
For instance, he can make himself appear completely invisible.
The only downside to that is that it makes me look like a crazy person when I talk to him.
“Why aren’t you healed?” Loki asks, sounding concerned. “It looks like it’s still fresh.”
I feel my defences going back up. It turns out being open with them is more challenging than I thought it would be.
“I heal slowly,” I reply.
“Wait, did you say you had weapons?” Rival asks, not so subtly giving Loki a warning look.
“Yeah, they’re in my locker.” I reply, taking a sip of coffee and then grinning, “where do you think I got the C4 from?”
“You know what? I hadn’t thought about that,” Reaper grins.
“Alright, let's go!” Storm orders, striding out of his room and completely ignoring me.
I put down my coffee and look through the drawers finding some scissors before jogging out of the door behind them.
Poca rubs against my leg, deliberately singeing the fabric.
He’s pissed because he wants me to introduce him to the guys, but he’s never wanted to be introduced to anyone before, even to the point where, when I’ve tried to introduce him to my uncle, he’s made me look fucking nuts by not becoming visible.
I still don’t think Magnus believes me that he’s real.
“Holy shit,” Loki suddenly exclaims, “your pants are smoking. ”
His exclamation gains the attention of the others.
“Why thank you, Loki, you’re not so bad yourself,” I reply, grinning and knowing that the line doesn’t entirely work. I’m still hoping it's enough of a distraction, though.
“I, er, what?” He stutters, making the guys laugh and Storm scowl.
Fortunately, we arrive at the locker room, and Loki seems too flustered to remember that my pants were smoking. Instead of going to their own lockers, everyone follows me to mine.
“Erm, you guys might want to step back,” I warn them.
“Last time you said that something blew up,” Reaper replies, raising his eyebrow.
“Exactly.” I grin, and their eyes widen as they all back right up.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Loki replies, just as my hand is on the handle. “What about you?”
“Well, I’ve got to disarm it. Don’t worry, it's not C4.” I reply, and they relax, “It’s a bomb.” I add.
“What the fuck?” Mayhem exclaims.
I open the door, taking the scissors out of my back pocket and side-eyeing Poca, who huffs happily next to me, clearly enjoying the distress that my actions are causing the guys.
It takes me seconds to disarm it, and I set it to one side as I pull out my duffle bag.
The guys all start edging closer, even Storm.
I had an, I guess you’d call it an epiphany last night. I want to break through that emotionless barrier that Storm always has up. If only to annoy him.
“You’re fucking crazy,” Loki grins.
“Yep,” I reply.
“Hang on, those bags you arrived with weren’t filled with clothes, were they?” Loki asks.
“Nope.”
“Where’s the other one?” Rival asks.
“What weapons are we using today?” I ask, trying to deflect. I don’t want to answer that question.
“Swords,” Storm says, opening his own locker.
“Sweet,” I grin as I pull out my Katana.
“Let’s go.” Storm orders again as we all grab our swords and make our way to the same gym we had combat in last night.
“Your blade has got some nicks in it.” Rival comments.
“That’s what happens when you use them,” I say without thinking.
“Like you have ever used your blades, Trouble,” Storm scoffs.
I feel the memories push forward as my steps begin to slow, the others moving ahead of me. More recently, the memory of the incident tries to come forward, and my hands start to shake.
“Hey,” Loki says gently, quiet enough that no one else can hear. “Whatever you’re seeing right now, you’re not there. You’re in the gym at the academy, and you're safe. I promise you, Love you’re safe.” He reaches out and cautiously takes my hand.
I grip it tightly. I have never had someone pull me out of a panic attack before, and it leaves me feeling exposed, which of course, makes me want to go into defensive mode. I force myself to relax, though, and look up at Loki.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
“Any time, Love.”
“Are you two done?” Storm asks, his voice completely void of emotion.
We pull apart like naughty kids, and I feel ridiculous.
“Right, Farren on the sidelines. Your uncle has vouched for you, but we all know that there’s no chance that you know what you’re doing with your background.” A wolf, which I’m assuming is the teacher, announces in front of the whole class, and my blood boils.
Surprisingly, it’s Storm that tenses and comes to my defence.
“Actually, Ross. We want to train with her since she’s a part of our team, so we will spar with her.” He says tensely, turning his back to the offended instructor as he nods over to the side of the room.
We all follow, the guys smirking and sharing a look.
“Loki and Farren.” He orders and Loki steps forward, looking wary.
We go through a couple of warmups, and he gains confidence in me, realising that I know what I’m doing. After that, we take it up a notch, and by the end, we’re both sweating. He’s actually pretty good, and even if I was at full strength, he might even give me a good run for my money.
“Impressive,” Mayhem says, once the class is over and earns a scowl from Storm.
“Lunch!” Loki exclaims excitedly, running past me and into the locker room. He trips over fuck knows what, and I react instinctively.
I throw my hands out, forgetting that most people need to use words to control their magic. It's too late now. I stop him millimetres from falling on the edge of his sword, using air to stand him upright again and floating his sword back into his hand.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to run with swords?” I chastise.
“How did you do that?” Storm asks, for once no sneer on his face.
I shrug, not willing to answer and push past them into the locker room, quickly putting away my sword.
“We’ll order food up to the room. I’ve got to get my books for magical battle theory.” Loki says, “you’re with me, Farren.”
“Sounds good,” I reply.
My magic’s beginning to stir, which I’m hoping means that the potion is nearly out of my system, and I should start healing soon.
“What do you fancy?” Reaper asks me when we get to the room.
I have a mild panic.
“Erm, just get me whatever you’re having?” I ask, and he smiles softly.
I try not to notice how his smile lights up his eyes.
I get up to distract myself and make my way to the kitchen to grab a coffee.
Storm steps up next to me to make his own cup, and I see something move out of the corner of my eye.
I turn to get a better look and notice shadows curling their way through his fingers.
No fucking way! Storms got shadow manipulation. That’s as rare as rocking horse shit. No one known has had that gift for fucking centuries, and his is bloody strong.
He grumbles under his breath as his magic signature increases in the air around us, gaining the guys' attention. The black inky shadows he controls reach for me, and he tries to pull them back, but they don’t seem to let him.
“Storm,” Rival says carefully, a warning in his tone.
Ignoring the vicious scowl on his face and the warning in Rival’s voice, I can’t help but be enthralled as the shadows curl around my fingers, weaving in and out.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were playing?
I bring my hand closer to my face, completely missing everyone’s reactions around me.
As soon as it's close enough, the shadows gently nuzzle my cheek, and I smile.
"Hey, that tickles," I smile fondly, and the shadows do it again, and I just can’t help the following words that come out of my mouth, “you know you’re kind of cute."
The portion of shadows that are reaching for me from him, breaks completely from Storm and forms itself into the form of a massive smoky edged dog, with glowing amber eyes, deadly claws, and teeth that could break you in one bite.
He comes forward, wagging his tail and nuzzles his massive head under my palm.
"So, fucking cute."
"What the fuck is happening? Did you do that?" Mayhem asks.
"Fuck no! You know the shadows, they've got a mind of their fucking own. They've decided they like her, obviously." Storm says through a clenched jaw, clearly not pleased by the development.
I tilt my head to the side, making it evident that I’m studying him. He sighs heavily, his ice cold stare intact until he raises a single eyebrow at me.
"What?" He growls impatiently.
"Just trying to figure out what would get the biggest reaction out of you and finally crack that emotionless mask you hide behind," I say bluntly as I study his features.
“Farren,” Rival warns me this time, and I smirk, ignoring him.
"So far, I have two options, the first being to punch you in that sinful mouth of yours. The second is to kiss you fucking stupid." I shrug and suppress a chuckle as heat flares in his eyes briefly before he snuffs it back out. "Ah, now isn’t that interesting?"