33. Sadie #2
They occasionally cast worried looks in Aran’s direction, but had stopped trying to talk to her when it was clear she had nothing to say.
Lucinda and Jala whispered to each other.
Since they were both more reserved and only two years apart in age, it wasn’t surprising that they’d grown so close.
Jess was animatedly telling a story around the food in her mouth. “Yeah, and then the teacher asked us what the square root of three thousand was—” She took a massive bite. “—and—” She took another bite. “—answered wrong and cried.”
Jess and Cobra went to grab the last bread roll, but Jess snatched it first.
Cobra hissed at her, but she just shoved it in her mouth, grinning at him, and continued her story. “Teacher did nothing. Such a bully.”
“Wait, did someone bully you girls at school?” Jax put down his silverware, gray eyes flashing like slate.
Cobra’s jewels transformed into shadow snakes, and he looked over at Lucinda and Jala with concern.
Xerxes brandished his knives.
An irrational response if you asked me—what was he going to do, stab schoolchildren?
“Who are we beating up?” Ascher cracked his tattooed knuckles.
Ignoring the men, I turned to my sister. “Lucinda, did the kids say or do anything to you or Jala?”
She and Jala had an air of sweet innocence about them that was honestly terrifying.
They were too trusting.
“Why do you assume we’d be the ones bullied?” Lucinda furrowed her brows. “You don’t know what we can do.”
“Yeah, we’re not weak,” Jala said with conviction, but ruined the moment by reaching over to squeeze Lucinda’s hand for support.
They shifted closer together as everyone at the table stared at them.
We really needed to toughen them up.
“Hm-hmm,” Jess said around the massive bite she’d been struggling to chew. She chugged water, waving her hands, and swallowed.
“You misunderstood. The teacher asked what the square root of three thousand was, and a guy said fifty-three. Jinx burst into laughter and asked him if he was ‘mentally stunted and had been dropped on his head as a baby’”—she lowered her voice in a mimicry of Jinx—“‘because it is obviously 54.7722557505 and only a single-celled troglodyte would think otherwise.’”
Jinx rolled her eyes and petted Noodle, who was belly-up in her arms, but didn’t deny it.
“The entire class laughed, and the dude’s eyes filled with tears. Then Jinx asked him if he wanted a nappy and bottle to go with his blubbering.” Jess sighed heavily. “He was eighteen, and because of his bloodline, is expected to be an alpha.”
“Good work.” Cobra reached his hand across the table and gave Jinx a high five.
The don nodded as he cut his steak, like he agreed with Cobra’s assessment.
Jax raked his hands tiredly through his braids. “Jinx, we talked about this. You can’t bully your classmates.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I was simply educating him on his shortcomings,” Jinx said with the biting scorn that only a twelve-year-old girl could muster.
“See what I have to deal with?” Jess gestured to her small sister petting Noodle, who now had his mouth open and a blissed-out expression on his furry face.
He still had fake eyelashes on.
Jess continued, “At least this realm holds classes based on what you test, not age. We all tested into the highest classes, so I can keep an eye on her. We don’t want the chemistry lab repeating itself.”
“Wow, Lucinda. I didn’t know you did that well in school?” I smiled at my little sister with pride.
Lucinda blushed like I was embarrassing her and said, “I can do a lot, sis.”
Jala giggled.
Apparently, I was the only one at the table who struggled in an academic setting, because my answer to the square root of three thousand would have been thirty.
A sick realization hit me.
Was Jinx right?
Am I an idiot?
Jinx took a delicate bite of asparagus. “If a person can’t defuse a small chemical explosion, then they shouldn’t be allowed in a chemistry lab. I stand by that.”
“You blew up the room, and one student died ,” Jess said with rising frustration.
“Wrong. The blast didn’t kill him. He died from third-degree burns,” Jinx said in a “duh” tone. “That was his own fault. He wouldn’t have survived the cold shifter realm anyway. I did him a favor.”
Jess scowled down at her much smaller sister, her copper-toned skin flushing as she gripped her fork like a weapon. “Wait, Jinx, someone died? You never told me that.”
A low rumble escaped from Jax’s throat as he also glared at his sister.
Jinx gritted her teeth. “I didn’t need to, because he died from the burns. Not the blast.”
Cobra nodded. “You can’t fault her. If the blast didn’t kill him, it clearly wasn’t her fault. Lay off. How old were you when it happened?”
“Eight,” Jinx said.
Cobra pointed his knife like he’d proven a point. “See, she was just a child. Give her a break. When I was that age, my snake accidentally ate a family of four.”
“What?” Jax, Ascher, and I said at the same time.
Xerxes didn’t even blink, just kept eating like Cobra’s statement didn’t surprise or concern him.
Aran was silent, pushing her steak back and forth like nothing anyone said mattered.
Ascher looked down at her with a frown.
“Exactly. It happens,” Jinx said to Cobra, and the corner of her mouth pulled up into what almost appeared to be a slight grin.
For her, that was the equivalent of a beaming smile.
I took it back; the don was not the only person who looked at home in the elegant mansion.
Jinx’s posture was perfect, long black hair lying in a silky sheath down to her waist. With too-pale skin and massive dark eyes, she looked more like a caricature of a doll than a flesh-and-blood person.
Jinx arched her dark eyebrow as she caught me staring.
I quickly looked away.
Actually, maybe I wasn’t completely dead inside, because she terrified me.
“I’m sorry, son, that I wasn’t there to help you.” The don spoke for the first time, and his perfect posture broke as his shoulders hunched with something that resembled despair.
He stared across the table at Cobra with tired eyes. At that moment, the terrifying Mafia leader looked almost…weak.
Cobra shrugged and said nothing.
The table fell silent as everyone processed that both Jinx and Cobra had committed murder at eight years old, and that they thought they were in the right.
“My visit is not purely of the social nature,” the don broke the silence as he cut his steak.
If he told us we were getting tortured again, I was shoving a bread roll up his ass.
“The third trial begins now,” the don said casually.