35. Growth requires failure…but not Today
Growth requires failure…but not Today
KYRA
Needless to say, sleep eludes me. Okay, I showered, put on my comfy clothes and bonnet, and took a power nap for about three hours. Six in the mortal realm. Or is it four? Regardless, my body feels somewhat rested.
Cracks of phthalo blue creep in from my window.
I’m wide awake thanks to iced coffee and my current tasks.
Two laptops sit before me, which took nothing less than creating ten of these bad boys.
But I won’t go into detail on why there are charred pieces of computer parts in my fireplace.
These two came out perfect by my standards, in regard to normal.
Blaise rolls over, and I pry away from my screens, unmoving in case he begins to wake. Nope, still asleep. My phone is tucked somewhere beneath him, so responding to Caspian never happened. Unfortunately.
On one laptop, I run an algorithm concealing the IP I’m using.
My first thought was to use a mortal address, but let’s be honest, who wouldn’t know it was me hacking their system if there is another tech-whiz in this realm.
So I opted for a student in another region, specifically at Dravenport. Their nation’s number three Academy .
A guy named Braylin will be pissed if he finds out and gets caught.
Codes race up and down, changing every four seconds–two seconds–now six–nope ten due to an algorithm I created. Its change of rate is random, never going past ten seconds. Anymore, and someone can trace it. But even so, by the time they’re out the door, its location changes again. I love me.
My second screen holds information about Rebirth’s students. It took less than four minutes to hack in, and three of those were waiting to see if anyone would notice. Nope. Lame.
Sitting beside me is Blaise’s book, opened to a blank page; its ink dissolved with no lingering traces.
Where he failed in warning me was that upon reading an entire page, its content vanishes. Five pages in and lessons were learned. My guess is that it prevents me from copying what is written. Perfect, because I had every intent on doing so. Smart ass. I cut my eyes to him.
Regardless, being upset is meaningless when he has written more juicy information than I care to imagine.
Reading nothing but what pertains, deals, or involves me, I’m not keen on invading others’ private moments.
But aside from wanting to flip the next page, I’m already nose deep in discovering more about students at this school through my hacking.
Russ and his secret passageways around campus can wait. Blaise states he uses them after every class in order to meet me sooner. Would this be considered stalking, even if I find it somewhat cute?
Two tabs are open on this laptop, utilizing the internet from each attending student’s cell phone. One tab shows Rebirth’s routers and how much data I’m using–requiring an extensive hacker to find.
I’m confident but never dumb. There is always a chance of getting caught, and I’m always prepared for a hasty exit. Until then, I monitor the codes connecting their data from these routers as I try to bypass whatever magical lock they have in place.
Moving on to tab two, I see Alex’s name staring back. Or should I say, Alex Kelirc, the brother of Ethan Kelric, with a redacted line requiring authorization next to it, which is what my magic is working on in tab one.
Beside his name states ‘vampire/elf’ under the title ‘Species,’ which are both clickable links. Letting my curious fingers walk, I hit ‘vampire,’ and it brings up an entire list of said individuals. Holy shit, there’s three pages of names.
One hundred on each page surprises me, but there are none I recognize besides Alex, Ethan, and Raine. Each one details their Coven, Type, and Nature. Now more intrigued than before, I want to see what the hell ‘Type’ means…and I click next to Alex’s name.
‘BLOOD-DRINKER: This vampire must consume blood in order to survive and can sustain on fay’s blood for two weeks before requiring more. (Consuming less often will hinder the user’s magical output. Recommended consumption every one to two days.)’
My brows rise in freight and bewilderment. Sure, I know vampires drink blood, but it’s different reading it and knowing I’m face to face with one each day.
Clicking on ‘BLOOD-DRINKER’ opens another list of those similar, and Ethan’s name is the single recognizable one. Then what the hell is Raine?
Reverting to the list of vampire names, I find Raine. I click, but a blimp draws my attention to the other laptop. Well, look at this, someone’s being naughty. Who are you, and why are you searching for me? I notice my codes are being deleted.
Perhaps their system is carefully monitored. Adorable. I sit for a second, watching them type and run their deterrent, when I release a simmering giggle. They’re not even trying to hide their fingerprint. An amateur by all regards, is who they have securing this Academy.
Selecting and copying their string, I create another line of code, implanting it into the heart of mine, and send them on a wild goose chase. Essentially, whoever is watching me will be chasing their own tails of IP addresses.
I turn back towards computer two, clicking ‘Type’ on Raine’s name, and frown, not in anger but pure ignorance in my lack of knowledge about vampires.
‘EMPHATIC: This vampire feeds on emotions and feelings, not requiring blood for sustainment. (Love, angst, hatred, and fear are delicacies.)’
What the fuck is an emphatic vampire? I get they drain my emotions instead of blood, but…what the hell?
Scrolling down, I select, ‘More,’ and information about his kind refreshes, but a second tab pops up before I can read it. Shit. There is another magical lock in need of cracking, however, the first one gave access to the redacted line beside Alex and his demonic brother’s name.
Well, I’ll be damned. Alex’s real handle is Arekkusu Kerurikku, and Ethan is Iisan Kerurikku .
While a code I’ve managed to imbue with magic, on a whim, tries breaking through, I sit, reciting their names until I’m forty percent sure they are spoken with accuracy.
Maybe twenty percent.
“You’ll never get in this way.” Blaise’s voice startles the ever-loving hell out of me, and I jump, knocking over my laptop and letting gravity do what it does best.
“Damn it, Blaise.” Facing him with a mix of fright and annoyance, I continue, “What are you doing up?”
He pans around the room, gazing at my other laptop, and arches a brow. “Late night homework?”
I close it before this building aneurysm has a chance of exploding. Damn it. What is worse than getting caught online is being found out in person–red handed .
Panic thrashes in my chest as I watch his eyes switch between me and the closed laptop under my fingers, searching his expression for any sign he will run and tell. Like a deer in headlights, I’m motionless, awaiting the fate of yet another failed moment.
In a low tone I ask through my teeth, “What did you see?” deciding here and now if I can trust Blaise.
Getting exposed for hacking won’t end with a slap on the wrist. No. Rebecca will do far worse. If she is hell bent on finding who discovered her extracurricular activity, she will go through greater lengths to punish me for viewing secured records.
“Late night homework.” A grin curls his lips. He tugs the covers up, rolling over, and disappears beneath its thickened hold. “But you won’t gain access using simple magic. This homework requires a personal touch…or at the very least, knowing who’s behind it.”
His voice is muffled, and he does a miniature wiggle as he settles in.
Is he serious? I’m not entirely sure if Blaise is helping or waiting to confirm what he has seen.
Then again, how long was he up before speaking?
Minutes lapse with me watching him, shifting my body and doing simple movements with my laptop.
I check to see if he will roll back over in hopes of catching me again.
*Snores*
His hard breathing defuses my suspicions, and I huff. I would be insane to think he witnessed nothing, but at least it appears he can be trusted. For now.
Turning around and picking up the fallen laptop, I relax my shoulders. Though my adrenaline is still high, I listen to the voice telling me to call it a night… “Or morning,” I whisper, viewing golden rays upon my wall. It’s best to not push my luck.
Not bothering to check if any damage was done, I grab the other and place both laptops beneath my bed, taking a mental note to obtain a better hiding spot later.
I pull back the covers, careful to not wake Blaise, and gather myself beneath them. Feeling around for my phone, I grunt out, “Where. Is. It?” Cold sheets respond in kind, until something smooth and warm brushes the back of my knuckles .
Yanking up my covers and dipping my head beneath them, I see that Blaise is shirtless. His back faces me, and every inch of it is covered in ink. I gasp, no longer interested in my reasons for being under here.
Painted skin stretches against the flexing muscles of his breathing, and it is nearly impossible to see it all. What little I can, no thanks to our darkened confinement, appears to be one large and incredible art piece. Curiosity takes over, and I lift the blankets a bit more.
“What is this?” I say under my breath. At this point, I’m on my knees, hovering over his back, devoted to figuring it out. Mouthing “feathers?” I’m careful not to touch him, but if he moves, it’s all over.
Knowing Russ has some too, yet never having a chance of viewing all his ink, I draw inspiration for wanting more–new ones without depressing memories attached to them.
And since Blaise is in my bed, shirtless, I may as well look for ideas.
When in Rome… Wait, does this qualify as sexual harassment if I’m not thinking or doing it sexually? Duh, now stop.