Chapter Thirteen #2
While I’m with the guys, I seem to be able to forget that my life is fucked up.
My father tortures me for funsies, and my hands are drenched in the blood of kills, some of whom probably didn’t deserve their fate, but I followed orders, or I ended up in even worse condition than I was.
In the last two years, I’ve done my own research into the targets my father sends me out after, and if they’re innocent, then I help to hide them.
I have a network of trusted people who help me safely get these targets out of my father's path. None of them know my identity, of course. I’ve developed spells and weapons that look like they kill when in actual fact, it's just an extremely strong illusion. I’ve been through things that are so horrifying that most people wouldn’t be able to dream it in their nightmares, and yet when I’m with the others, I find it easier to push it away.
Now that I’m alone and the dark tentacles of sleep are reaching for me, the demons from my not-so-distant past are salivating with the desire to remind me exactly how much control they have over me. I really fucking hope these rooms are soundproof.
∞∞∞
Fortunately for me, I either didn’t make any noise despite the horrific nature of my nightmares, the rooms were soundproofed, or none of the guys cared that I was screaming like a banshee. I don’t think it would’ve been the last one.
Over the next few days, we quickly fall into the routine of classes and spending the evenings together either studying or just getting to know each other better.
So far, I have been successful in keeping it to a friendly level, and we’ve had no more incidents of people trying to murder me, which is both a relief and slightly concerning.
It’s concerning because I don’t think it’s ever been this long between murder attempts, and that’s putting me massively on edge.
Because of that, I’m feeling restless. I’ve lived the same life of violence and fighting to stay alive for so long that the mundane routine I’ve found myself in over the last few days has been precisely that, mundane.
I never thought I’d be wishing for someone to try to take me out, just to assuage my own boredom.
Don’t get me wrong, the classes are interesting, and I am learning things in most of them, except combat, where I still have to keep my true skills and strength on the down low, which isn’t helping with restlessness at all.
Zev was in combat class the day after his vision and, as predicted, wouldn’t say anything about what happened.
Worryingly though, he’s been training extra hard, and making sure that on any sparring we have that we are paired together.
I first thought it was so I could help him, but I’ve quickly learned that he’s helping me just as much.
He’s showing me how to get around a fighter that can predict your moves before you make them, and it’s an important skill to have.
He’s stepped it up enough that I’d say that he was preparing for a battle that he knows is going to happen and not just the vague idea of one happening at some point.
We’ve all taken our cues from him and have, in turn, stepped up our own training.
Even so, there’s only so much we can do, and I’ve realised that I’m not the only one who holds back the guys do too.
Those moments sparring with Zev are helping to control the restlessness a bit, but not enough, and my magic is still acting out.
I still have to keep a tight hold on it at all times.
I’ve tried to catch Zev after class just to talk to him, but he rushes off every time, not even bothering to shower and change. The teachers were all still acting like there was something massive going on, but as of yesterday have started to behave more normally, not that I’m buying it.
Then we have Storm. I naively thought that after the movie night, he would’ve at least warmed up to me, but it seems to have gone the opposite way.
He’s finding every opportunity to needle me, and it got annoying enough that any feelings I thought I had for him are thoroughly buried.
I’m enjoying winding him up as much as he’s enjoying pissing me off.
That brief moment of vulnerability that I had in the dining room has definitely passed.
Thank fuck. The others have learned just to leave us to it now, and I think they mostly find it amusing when we get in verbal sparring matches.
My walls have officially slid back into place as far as he’s concerned, which makes dealing with him a hell of a lot easier.
All in all, I’m enjoying being here, which is surprising. I just wish my nightmares would fuck off already. Poca has been practically glued to my side for the past few days, thanks to the panic attacks I keep waking up with, the lack of sleep is making me stabby.
I might have to see if Kill will take me back to the Crypt with him when he plans to go in a couple of days to check-in. I’m sure I could get me a decent fight there or at least piss someone off enough to want to murder me.
I am aware that is not a healthy line of thinking but fuck it.
“Are we even going to bother trying to catch up with him today?” Reaper’s tone is bored as we all stare after a retreating Zev.
“No point. He disappears like a fucking pro, give him a couple of years, and he’ll be good enough for the Crypt,” Killian compliments.
“High praise, coming from you,” Storm replies.
Whereas he’s gotten more hostile with me, he seems to have gone the other way when it comes to the guys, showing them more snippets of emotion other than anger. What the fuck ever, I’m done trying to figure him out.
“Food, I’m starving,” I say simply because I’m stabby, and food seems to help.
The guys share an amused look that seems to communicate something else as well, but I really can’t be bothered to figure it out. Shrugging, I make my way toward the changing rooms.
“Hang on a minute, Farren. Can you come back here? I need to talk to the whole team,” the instructor calls after me, and I let out an annoyed sigh before turning back around and heading back.
Wow, food seriously better help because my stabby-ness has reached a new level today.
The instructor eyes my petulant stomp with a raised eyebrow but wisely chooses not to comment.
However, Storm scoffs without humour, and I meet his gaze daring him to say something to me right now because I bet he could give me a proper fucking fight.
He opens his mouth, and I feel anticipation spark through me before it quickly gets snuffed out when Mayhem elbows him in the ribs, and Storm snaps his mouth shut, settling on glaring at me instead.
Being the mature twenty-one-year-old woman I am, I stick my tongue out at him.
Loki snorts but quickly turns it into a cough when the instructor glares at him.
“How can we help you?” Storm asks formally.
“The Headmaster would like to see you all in his office before dinner. You’re being sent out on your first mission.”
“Already?” Mayhem asks.
“Due to recent developments, everyone will start to be sent out on missions over the next few weeks,” with no further explanation, he turns on his heel and walks off.
What a knob. He is definitely not one of these teachers that has their student's best interests in mind. He couldn’t care less and that’s not exactly something that you want in a teacher.