Chapter 20
We entered the cafeteria to the sounds of young werewolves and witches eating and chatting to their hearts’ content. More eating for the wolves and more chatting for the witches.
It went quiet when we entered, all eyes turning our way. We got some nods from classmates and, oddly, Cora and Wulf. We also got a shit ton of wide-eyed stares which became hushed, whispered conversations.
And then Steve, the werewolf upperclassman I had encountered early in my Arcane career, suddenly yelled out, “Hey dragon crap, next time, just nut punch that douche Fife.”
That got a laugh, a bunch of claps and a few hoorahs.
“Oh, I was meaning to thank ye for slapping down that arsehole Fife,” Reagan said.
“It seems a lot of people appreciated the show Craig put on,” Vesta said, grabbing my hand and towing me to the serving line, her eyes already drinking in tonight’s offerings.
I was locking eyes with a dark-haired kid I’d never seen before who was in the middle of the sophomore tables. His gaze flicked away from me and onto Vesta. Then he stood up and marched over to where we were putting food on our plates.
“Lady Steward, I am Jacques Armond, and I am forever your humble servant,” he said, loud enough for the whole room, which had gone silent again, to hear. Of course, he had the coolest French accent to go with the name. He bowed like a knight of the Round Table, then held out his hand.
She turned and looked at him, standing with his hand outstretched, a broad smile on what was likely a stupidly handsome face. Then she turned to me and raised one brow.
“It’s performative. His chivalry act is covering a ball of cold, calculating greed that sees you as property to be owned and exploited,” I said.
I felt my head tilt sideways as I had more insight as well as a flash of the immediate future.
“He’s here to impress his dad,” I said just as his empty left hand came swinging at my face in a blur.
I leaned back to let it brush by and stepped forward to slide my left foot behind his right foot as my right hand encountered his elbow, pushing it against his chest.
He was werewolf strong and only rocked a little, but then he tried to swing his crossed arm in a backhand.
Now his own strength pushed against my locked elbow, braced shoulder, and weight-forward stance.
The effect was that he pushed himself over my foot and then stumbled backward before righting himself four feet away. Good reflexes.
“Craig?” Erika Boklund asked with a teacher voice.
“Yes ma’am?” I asked, my eyes still on the French-accented werewolf from Whiskey Tango.
“No maiming, mutilation, or death please,” she commanded. “Classes haven’t even started.”
Armond started to step forward, eyes locked on me, but suddenly found himself fifteen feet in the air, floating and flailing ineffectually.
“Vesta?” Erika asked in the same teacher voice.
“Yes, Miss Boklund?” Vesta answered.
“No crushing, smashing, popping, suffocating, drowning, or incineration please.”
“But Miss Boklund, this wolf attacked my beloved?” Vesta responded, her tone indicating our class teacher’s conditions were entirely unreasonable.
“Who was able to defend himself without killing the new kid. New kid, leave them alone.”
“My heart cannot obey, mademoiselle teacher,” Armond said, his squirming stopped, his eyes locked on Vesta.
“I can remove it if it’s become a problem,” I said.
“You? You are nothing but a weak male witch,” Armond said in his classy accent.
The room burst into laughter, oohs, aahs, and multiple cries of dumbass, moron, dead wolf walking.
“Mr. Armond, I am but a lowly senior portal officer, Master-level Air witch, and senior teacher in this humble academy, but even I know that wolves do not attempt to get between another wolf and her beloved,” Erika said. “Now, Vesta, if you will let him down, we can get him to …”
“Me,” a new voice said, which turned out to be Gina Velasquez.
Standing in the door with hands on her hips, she was surveying the scene with sharp eyes.
Eyes that narrowed in on my right hand, which was spooning scalloped potatoes onto my plate while the drama unfolded.
I put down the serving spoon and smiled at her innocently.
Then she returned her gaze to the floating werewolf.
“Jacques, I thought we talked about this during orientation.”
“Her beauty is overwhelming,” he said.
“A true statement but not an answer,” Gina said.
“Craig says his intent is calculated,” Cora, of all people, offered.
“Thank you, Cora. Vesta, if you would, dear.”
Vesta let go and he dropped the full fifteen feet, landing easily on his stupid werewolf feet.
Then my girl turned her back to him and gasped when she saw that I had already gotten to the potatoes.
“It’s like that, is it?” she demanded of me as if we weren’t the absolute center of all attention in the room.
“I need every advantage I can get,” I said.
“I am your advantage, off-worlder,” she said as Gina led the new kid out.
“Oi, deadly craic!” Reagan said in an excited tone.
“Just another Sunday night at Arcane,” Freia said in a bored voice, but I caught the moment she glanced at the Irish witch. The pretty Irish witch.
“What element do you favor, Reagan?” I asked.
“Me mum is Air but I favor Water meself. Take after my aunt, I do.”
“Ryanne, right?” Vesta asked. “Your aunt, I mean?”
“Spot on.”
“Do I know that story?” I asked.
“Apparently not. Ryanne and her sisters, including Reagan’s mom, Gail, have a band, Sisters Eeire,” Vesta explained. “Irish music.”
“Oh, cool. Can you get them to come and play for the school?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know, ye see. They don’t like boring and this here is gomey,” Reagan said, looking unimpressed.
“Oh, is it now? I recall an exclamation of deadly craic mere seconds ago,” I said.
She waved one hand in dismissal. “Yer clearly mistaken.”
“So if we ask Omega to replay that moment, say up on the big wall over there, over and over, you won’t mind?” I asked.
“He’s snarky, this one,” Reagan said to Vesta.
“A real smartarse,” Vesta agreed.
“But rarely boring,” I added. “And often hungry,” I added, looking longingly at the food ahead of Vesta. She smirked at me and took her time adding potatoes to her own plate.
We found a table of familiar faces, with Thirzah, Taylah, and Geniveve already eating.
“Every damned time,” Taylah said. “You two are drama magnets.”
“Didn’t used to be until this one came along,” Vesta said, nodding in my direction.
“Well, being outed as the daughter of the Steward and the White Werewolf might have had something to do with it,” Thirzah said offhandedly. We all looked at her, and she instantly went full red in the cheeks. “Just saying.”
“This is Reagan,” Vesta said. “And you all know Leila.” I hadn’t even realized the girl had followed along with us. Being Ilissa’s old roommate, she’d spent the whole first semester with a poisoned attitude against me. Now she was reading as nervous and shy.
“Hey, nice to meet you,” Geniveve said, then turned to Vesta and me. “What’s up with that new wolf?”
Vesta turned and looked at me.
“All I can tell you is the charming act and over-the-top dramatic proclamations are false. He’s a tightly wound ball of calculated ambition,” I said.
“What was that about his father?” Taylah asked.
“Cole told me his dad is the richest guy on Whiskey Tango,” I said. “I got an impression he’s trying to make Dad proud or something. Just a hint, but it seemed to hit a nerve.”
“You are a very polarizing guy,” Leila said, then immediately looked surprised, like she hadn’t meant to speak at all.
“I seemed to be with Ilissa, but I think Jacques Armond is focused on Vesta.”
“I was gonna ask you guys about your break, but we all watched it,” Geniveve said.
“You only saw the shitty parts,” I said. “The rest of it was a lot of fun. You know, moonlit wolf pack runs in the woods and all that. How was yours?”
“Quiet until your interview. Then everyone I know wanted to speak with me,” Geniveve said.
“Yeah, I was suddenly the most popular kid out of five,” Thirzah said. “Both of my older sisters couldn’t decide if they were pissed or jazzed by all the attention.”
“How about you, Freia?” I asked.
“My mom and dad already knew about it. But my circle exploded when my idiot brother had to brag to someone that I was her roommate. I came back a day early just to get away.”
“Sorry,” Vesta said.
“I worked it to my advantage,” Taylah said with a smirk. “Circle leader’s daughter is a bitch. Now she can’t say shit about me without her mother and the other elders telling her to shut the hell up. I’ll take the attention if it gets me that, so thank you.”
“It like te blew the whole of Ireland up, it did,” Reagan said suddenly. “Not jest the witches, either.”
“And when Ilissa Sue went running home to Greenacres, it opened another legacy spot?” I asked.
“Aye. Auntie Ry had offered it to me cousin, Lil, last year, but she dinnae wanna leave home. So I asked for it. That other witch already had it but now she’s gone, innit she?”
“You’re not what she said,” Leila said to me.
“She’s got a truly amazing gift for lying without lying. Twisting words and letting her audience assume.”
“And she hates you more than she loves anything, I think,” Leila said. “So much that I think she’ll miss hating on you.”
“That’s insightful,” Vesta said, surprised.
“She was so cool—at first,” Leila mused. “Great stories, lots of questions about me and everyone here, and only a few comments about the other kid, the woodchuck coming from Golf Alpha. But then that first night’s magic class happened, and she went off the deep end.”
“I’m sorry you had to live with her,” I said.
“She mostly left me alone. I wasn’t useful like the upperclassmen would be. But it was a hard semester with all her complaints.”
“Wow, I hope you’re a better roommate,” I said to Reagan.
“I’m cracking good,” she said back instantly.
“Those videos of you are pretty… brutal,” Leila said.
“They are,” I agreed.
“She said you would flip out and kill someone,” Leila continued. “She was ecstatic when that wolf, Steve, accidently Challenged you. But it got figured out and you didn’t actually kill anyone till the birds got loose.”
“What is it you want to ask him,” Vesta asked.
“She said you’re a killer, but you don’t seem that way until you suddenly do,” Leila said, frowning.
“I am. An exceptional killer. Born, raised, and trained to be. Like you were born, raised, and trained to be a Fire witch. Yet I’ve never seen you burn anyone alive or burn down a building, or even start a fire outside of class.”
Her curious expression turned to surprise as she thought about my words. “I like starting and using fire. I have to control the impulse.”
“Ah, well, I don’t like killing things, with the possible exception of centipedes. But I have some reflexes I’m learning to control.”
“Well, if that new kid doesn’t back off, I’ll be the one doing the killing,” Vesta said, stabbing a piece of chicken nonchalantly. The whole table went quiet. “What?” she asked.
“It’s not like you to speak like that,” Freia said.
“I haven’t had a beloved threatened before either,” my wolf-witch responded.
“But Vee, you are like a nuclear bomb which people forget until they suddenly realize you’re not just this amazing girl but actually enormously dangerous,” I said. “They get unsettled by it.”
“Tell me more about the amazing girl part?” she asked me, smiling.
“No, it’ll have to wait. Because of Mr. French wolf, I have to now learn both poetry and songwriting to keep up,” I said.
“No… you don’t,” she said with absolute sincerity that rang like a bell note against my inner intent meter. “But can you even sing?”
“Actually, not bad. Not great, but not bad.”
“So karaoke night should be a thing,” Freia said.
“Bring it,” I said.