Chapter 8
Milo
I’m drowning in new knowledge. I love it.
Classes started three days ago and I’ve found each one fascinating. Well, except the fitness classes, those suck.
Everything else, however, has been captivating; the politics, the societal systems, and the many, many different sorts of supernatural beings that belong in this world. It’s all been so interesting, I’ve basically moved into the library when I’m not in a lecture or discussion class.
The library itself is full of knowledge I want to learn. Which is the total opposite of how I was as a teen.
I hated school, wasn’t good at it and the kids were horrible. Because I couldn’t talk, didn’t want to, they took it to mean I couldn’t fight them off. To start with I couldn’t. But then I started learning some martial arts and that was the game changer.
The kids left me alone but the adults then became the issue. I was the ‘problem child,’ the one the teachers couldn’t be bothered with.
It’s not like that here.
Most seem keen to learn, or at least have a vested interest in understanding the realm we’ve been transported to.
Those that don’t engage either skive off entirely, or sit at the back and aren’t a bother.
One of those seems to be Tacita, which is confusing as my roommate seems whip smart and like she wants to win this thing. But in class she switches between either looking utterly bored or completely despondent.
She is here in the library though, sitting diagonally across from me and looks to be studying hard. She hasn’t got stacks of books around her, unlike me, but is writing a lot in the notepads we’ve now all been given.
And she’s drawing up what looks like a map of our current location from what I can discern from the few times I’ve looked up.
I’ve filled half a notepad with scribbles already, trying to learn all I can about the different beings.
The shifters are ones I find most intriguing.
It’s incredible how their bones and muscles seem to just completely alter, I can’t wrap my head around it.
And how do they think when in an animal form, we’ve been told they keep human level cognition but how is that possible?
And as for those with wings, I’m in awe.
The mechanics of those are easier to understand.
They’re similar to most of the birds on earth, but where do those wings go when their owners hide them.
I’ve yet to see any transitions, but I’ve seen some of the guards flying, giant bat-like wings sprouted from their backs.
They’re demons, we’ve been told. The ones with the bat-like wings. There’re also harpies, they have feathered wings. Black feathers. The colour is important.
Dark grey are Dark Angels and those with white are angels and not from this plane. They were mentioned once before we moved on very quickly.
And the magic doesn’t stop there. It helps power everything here.
The electric and the internet. Not that we’ve been allowed access to any technology.
I’d had a small hope of being reunited with a computer when we learned about the classes, but no.
We’re doing this old school because they don’t trust us with computers. Don’t trust me, most likely.
Computers are already my superpower. When school didn’t work out, I stayed up late most nights self-teaching. And tech was where I started earning. Testing security systems could get you a lot of money if you were good. And I was great.
I’ve gathered a few books around the technological set up that can be found in this realm, but they’re incredibly basic. They’re more about the technological revolution, which is still interesting, but have no detail on how their networks work today.
“Well, hello. I finally found you,” Wyatt’s lilting tone breaks the silence as his footsteps approach our table.
Looking up to see who he’s talking to, I quickly duck my head again when his eyes are fixed on Tacita.
I can’t help but watch from the corner of my vision, however, as he almost skips up to her side and places a hand flat on the desk before he hops up on it so he’s sitting cross legged on the top, leaning over her.
Tacita is quick to swipe up the few sheets of loose paper she was working on, stuffing them all in her notepad before slamming it shut.
She levels a stare at the giant guy beaming down at her but doesn’t verbalise a greeting.
“What you working on?” Wyatt asks, cocking his head and reaching towards her stuff. She slams an arm across it before he makes contact and pulls it out of his reach.
“None of your business,” she hisses.
“Aw, come on, show me,” Wyatt whines.
“No.”
“Fine, how about we head back to the dorms and do something more fun instead?” He winks at her and somehow it’s me who flushes.
He’s such a player, so open and loud. The exact opposite of anyone I would show interest in. Not that I’ve been interested in many people.
But he’s not it.
And yet everytime I use one of the notepads he stole for me, I can’t stop the way my body heats.
He’s taller than me, far broader, and clearly much stronger. His muscles are huge. And his eyes are so expressive it’s like every thought gets written in them as well as being communicated across his face.
“You mean like throwing you off the roof?” Tacita drawls, not taking the bait.
She’s clearly not into him but he’s not giving up. I swear every time she turns him down, he just sees it as a greater challenge he needs to conquer.
And I get it. She’s just as gorgeous as he is in many ways, even if she’s the exact opposite. Her face is an unreadable mask ninety-nine percent of the time. And she calculates every word before she says it, every action before she takes it.
She’s like me in that way.
“Tut, tut.” He boops her on the nose and I swear for a second she considers biting his finger before he withdraws it. “We’re not allowed to harm each other until the next game. Although, if pain is what you’re into I’d gladly let you mark my skin in certain situations.”
“Not happening, Wyatt. I already told you, you couldn’t handle me.”
“But how will you know if you don’t let me try. I’ve never had any complaints.”
“One look at you and I know.” She runs her eyes up and down his body. “You’re not my type.”
“Ppfft. Not buying that.”
“You’re not.”
“I don’t believe you,” he pushes, and her fingers clench into fists on the tabletop as he winds her up.
“I don’t care, it’s the truth.”
“Come on, what about me isn’t your type? I bet you can’t name a single thing, Mo Stór.”
“For one, you’re h–” Tacita slams her mouth shut mid-sentence. Her nostrils flare and she shakes her head as she takes a deep breath. It’s the first time I’ve seen her even remotely flustered. “You’re just not,” she rushes out.
I’m openly staring at her now. What was she going to say? Him? A name? Does she already have a husband or boyfriend? Surely she’d just state that if there was someone out there she is attached too.
Wyatt laughs, knowing he’s finally affected her. He reaches forward again, this time brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ear.
Then he leans in and whispers something I can’t hear.
His eyes wander as he speaks. His gaze lands on mine, capturing me in an invisible snare, forcing me to keep looking at him. The heat that flares in his irises burns down the connection and my legs suddenly feel like lead. I swallow thickly and stare on like I’ve been magically frozen.
Wyatt’s brow arches as he continues to hold me in his trap and a smile curves up one side of his face as he finishes whatever he’s saying to Tacita.
Then, as quickly as he arrived, he’s leaping off the table and walking away.
I suck in a breath like I’ve been held under water. My hand automatically goes to my chest as the oxygen floods my lungs. What the hell was that?
And as if I’m a sucker for punishment I keep watching Wyatt’s back as he strides off, only to have him turn his head back and catch me again. This time he winks and it’s at me.
My heart stills for a painful second and I do move this time. Turning to my notepad and quickly picking up the pen I’d dropped when distracted by the interaction I’d just witnessed.
I’ve just about recovered a normal cardiac rhythm when Tacita growls beside me and slams her hands on the desk.
“Gods, damn him.” She rolls her eyes to the ceiling before pushing her chair back and stalks off into the stacks of books. She turns to me just before she disappears. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, are you okay to watch my stuff?”
Nodding, I return to my work. She’s gone for close to fifteen minutes but comes back with a book in her hand and looking much calmer. Although still a little flushed. She doesn’t say anything as she sits back down and starts working again.
We pass another couple of hours in silence. It’s a good silence though, not awkward. We each work on our own stuff and occasionally swap glances to check in with each other. My brain feels fit to burst as she leans back in her chair.
“Shall we head back to the dorms? Dinner will be soon and I’d like to ditch this stuff in our room before we eat.”
I nod and gather my things.
Walking back across the courtyard, the air between us changes.
Tacita shuts down on me for a reason I don’t understand.
Usually when we’re walking from place to place she tends to carry a conversation for the both of us.
Not that she’s been an open book but she tends to talk a bit about inconsequential things.
Today is tense and I wonder if she’s thinking about Wyatt.
I don’t get to mull on it for long, however, because as we approach it’s clear something is going on in our dorm. Several of the guards are marching in and out of our building and another couple are stationed on the door.
Several people who share our living quarters are gathered outside, chattering away so fast it’s hard to discern the topic of the chaos.
Tacita walks straight up to one of the guards on the door and starts demanding answers. I think his name is Tarron, he gave a lecture yesterday on the winged supernaturals, and insisted we call him by his first name rather than by his surname like many of the other guards do.
I stick to her side, feeling uneasy.
“What’s going on?”
“Sorry you can’t go up at the moment.” Tarron holds up a hand to stop us entering the building.
“Why?”
Tarron looks around before he says, “Someone’s been killed on the second floor.”