Danger Zone
Oriel
S itting through my first two classes was a pain in the ass. Slash isn’t known for being verbose, so we didn’t get updates during his turn at being bodyguard in the separate chat we started. I know it grated on everyone, but not a single complaint filtered through, even from the Pissy Prince.
Slash keeping our new inductee safe was a foregone conclusion, anyway.
Once he had to drop Kit at his Human History class, all bets were off. We all poked our heads out to check on him, which went unanswered because the guy is nothing if not stubborn about his education. The rest of us are much more laissez-faire , but I suppose it’s because much like knowing Slash would keep him safe, we all know we’ll be leaders whether we flunk classes at Discordia or not.
Not that anyone would dare fail us, of course.
I cut out of the spy craft lab early to lurk outside his classroom so the ache in my gut would shut the hell up. As the minutes tick by, I fiddle with the ring on my thumb, spinning to quell the anxiety building inside of me. When he comes out of Kindervelt’s class looking relatively unbothered, I sigh in relief.
“Heya, Kit Kat. Time for the big table again.” He wrinkles his nose and I shrug. “We would be almost done with the show for the semester after a week, but the Games changed everything. It’s especially important with your attack.”
Brushing his longer hair out of his eyes, Kit sighs heavily. “I know, O. The stares are beneficial this time, but it’s hard to… keep my brain on that wavelength. You know?”
“Yep.” I hold out my arm, grinning a bit as Dottie chirps a ‘hello’ to me when her human takes it. “We’ll survive it, though. I think after another week, our claim on you will be cemented enough to forgo the Triclinium for Salem’s cooking instead.”
His squeeze on my arm makes my smile wider. “Thank fuck for that. I sort of learned not to be a big eater early on, but with Slash growling at me every time he thinks I look hungry and this injury sucking my energy, I guess I need food more. Luckily, Panda-man never lets me leave without provisions.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “It’s easy for us to forget how much he does for the group because he used to be asleep like eighty percent of the time. He’s awake more in the past week than I’ve seen since we were kids. You’re too amusing to nod off.”
“I’m more fascinating than snoozing—what a review,” Kit snarks, his eyes dancing with mirth. “You really know how to compliment a dude, man.”
Was that a bad thing to say? Fuck if I know; this isn’t my forte.
“You know what I mean,” I mutter as we leave the academic building to head across the campus to the Triclinium . “Salem and Slash hovering over you that way is both interesting and complimentary, I think.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. It’s not like the big guys fawn over every person in our path, you know.”
Kit hums under his breath, not answering as we cross the middle of the quad area. He’s right—the amount of eyes I feel on me has multiplied by a large factor. His grip on my arm is likely part of it, but since I cling to the shadows more often than not, my being in the open is drawing curiosity as well. But the sensation of being watched instead of being the watcher is pretty annoying and now I get why he’s so ruffled by it.
It makes you feel vulnerable.
“Someone said you barely spoke before last week. Are you secretly a hermit, Oriel?”
“Not remotely secretly, Kit Kat. I’ve never been shy about preferring solitude and staying out of the limelight. It helps with my function in the group, obviously, and I can gratify my own needs better there as well.”
“Gratify…?” he chokes out.
I almost bark an amused laugh before I realize he might think I’m poking fun at him. It takes me a second to get myself under control before I reply, “The crow part, man. I like to hoard things, and I love to steal them. Anything not needed for the caliphate is fair game for my collection of shiny shit that makes the bird happy.”
Damn, I never tell people that. What the hell?
“Oh… oh. Got it. Sorry,” he says. His face is flushed bright red and it literally delights me when he ducks his head. “Yeah, that makes sense. The shifter sides of you guys are really fucking cool to learn about.”
“Huh. I guess I’m so used to all this…” I gesture at the landscape of Discordia and Hell in general. “…that I’ve never given thought to how cool it must seem to someone who didn’t know it existed.”
Kit snorts, rolling his eyes at me as we get to the steps of the cafeteria. “Oriel, two weeks ago, I thought my future included either an Ivy League school and a bunch of rich dicks with double popped collars or being stuck in my small town working in a diner until I could find enough money to get out. Demons, shifters, and magic would have been cool to anyone, but to me, it’s a goddamn miracle.”
Leaning in, I tap my finger on his nose with a pleased smile. “Then regardless of the sucky ass circumstances that lead you here or the ones we face now, I’m stoked as fuck to be part of that so-called miracle.”
The color rises in his face again, making my chest tighten, and he’s about to respond when a voice calls out in front of us.
“Hey, guys! Do you not check your phones? Sheesh.”
I blink as I pull back, looking at the twitchy kitsune as he comes down the stairs in a huff. “What’s the problem, Zav?”
“Jasper says they’re going to start talking games during the lunch periods. Get in here— now .”
Once again, the Prince of Pain manages to ruin a moment—it’s like he has a sixth sense for this shit.
By the time Kit and I reach the big table, I can tell Jasper’s stressed as fuck. He’s clenching his hands on his silverware as if he’s going to stab the next person that aggravates him. Not a good sign, in my opinion, but lately, the prince is impossible to catch in a decent mood. His eyes narrow as I get Kit settled, then flick to the crowds.
He’s checking to see if they’re noting that this time, I’m the one helping our newest member.
“Oriel, leave the runt here while you fetch the food.”
I roll my eyes, giving Zav a look , but the kitsune shrugs. Maybe Jasper’s worried about appearances and the trials. He certainly seems more tense than he was after he formulated the plans for this week. “Got it, boss,” I say drily.
“Don’t be a pain in the ass,” he mutters as I turn to leave. “Remember what we discussed.”
As if I could forget that ridiculous meeting by the next afternoon.
I shake my head ruefully wishing I had more than the wishy-washy gamer to support me. Zav is definitely sorry and I think he’s going to make up for his dumbassery, but standing up to Jasper will take time. It’s a lot easier to get him to back off when there’s a full caliphate present. Sighing to myself, I trudge over to the food service area and scan what’s on the menu. None of it is as appealing as what our personal chef would make, but I see a few things that will do.
Filling two plates with meats and savory vegetables, I pause as I hit the dessert area. I have no idea if Kit has allergies to anything, especially since Hell has its own flora and fauna, but I know Salem said he loved crunkleberries. I grab a huge piece of crunkleberry cobbler topped with loads of black Underworld cow whipped cream and sparkling dark Fae dust. It looks girly as shit, but it’s delicious, so I think he’ll like it. I swipe two pieces of pitch black chocolate silence cake for myself, then move to the drink station.
My hackles raise as I catch the whispers floating through the air. Lower demons are wondering which of us Kit is fucking, while the mid-levels are more interested in what the deal with the Games is. I whip up a couple of iced mochas and two glasses of water, listening for the upper tier rumor mill carefully.
They’re the ones who are the most dangerous if they don’t buy our story.
“I heard he’s working his way to the top the hard way—if you get my drift.”
Covering a snort, I duck my head as I continue eavesdropping on one of the court tables. They’re all so criminally easy to manipulate because they’re so desperate to be part of the in-crowd. It would shock every damn one of them that Kit could a give a fuck less about Jasper, and actively tries to avoid the prince at all costs. He’s certainly not being friendly with the rest of us to get Jasper’s approval.
“Morons,” I mutter to myself as I turn and head back towards our table. It won’t be too long until Anton joins us, so I hope whatever bullshit the admin is going to trot out doesn’t happen until he’s here.
When I get to our spot, I put the tray in front of me, off-loading Kit’s half before I even touch mine. Demons can be quite old fashioned about courtship and all seven of us were raised with the appropriate behavior drilled into our skulls by our families’ tutors. He looks at me curiously, then at his plate.
“Does this dessert thing have the mouth-party berries in it?” His eyes widen as a broad grin takes over his face. “I’ve been dying for more of those!”
Score one for the crow—it helps to notice shit from the shadows.
“Crunkleberries? Yes. The cream is a delicacy, too, and very rich. Maybe be?—”
Before I can warn him, he digs into the sweet treat, ignoring the rest of the tray as he groans softly. A flare of energy sweeps over our table and my eyes jerk to Zav and Jasper. They’re watching Kit as intently as I am, and I decide my earlier statement isn’t true. Perhaps they are as interested as everyone else, but they’re too fucking stunted to figure out what to do about it.
The chitter of the kinkajou brings me out of my reverie and I look at the creature giving me an awfully skeptical expression for an animal. That damn thing is definitely magical, but I haven’t quite worked out how yet. My knowledge of familiars is limited because they’re rare, but one of the Fae casters at home has a bloodbird familiar. I need to send her an email to ask a few questions about their origins and what types of hybrids and supes attract them.
“Oriel? Are you with us?” Zavida says, his voice edged with strain.
Damn. I spaced again. This being social shit is harder than I imagined.
“Yes, yes.” I wave my hands as I put my focus on the prince and the kitsune. “I’m here; I was just… noodling a few things. There’s a lot going on and even more we don’t know. Thinking about shit is how we find inconsistencies we might be able to use to our advantage.”
“This isn’t finding a flaw in a security system, O,” Jasper says with a frown. “I know thinking is the ‘go-to’ for you and Zav, but…”
Kit clears his throat, looking up with a face full of berries, cream, sparkling dust, and zero self-awareness. “I dunno, Prince Asshole. Thinking is something you guys don’t do often enough.”
No one says a word as we all stare, and after a minute, I grab my napkin. Kit looks surprised when I turn his head, but he lets me clean the mess off of him before it short-circuits every brain cell at the table. The sight is both adorable and hot at the same time; I know those two have no idea what the actual fuck to do with the image.
“There. Now we can take you seriously.” I grin and let go, allowing him to pull back with a cough. “Go on, Kit. Tell us what you really think.”
That’s probably a dumb suggestion, but I enjoy chaos and my dick’s hard…. sue me.