Chapter 36
Bury Me Face Down
Jasper
This morning, I’m feeling extremely pleased despite the upset yesterday.
When the rest of my caliphate trickled into Salem’s dorm for dinner, the shrimp was doing better and his mood was stable.
That alone meant my brothers were happy, and Zavvie was very grateful for my beneficence when we retired to my room for the night.
All that good vibes shit allowed me to wake up with less weight on my shoulders, even though I realize this bubble won’t last.
Between the crown, the games, and Darkstar, the world will go to shit again soon enough.
However, for the moment, I’m showered, sexed, and fed, which makes my entire cadre of beings inside calm.
Our caliphate meeting after we ate last night went more smoothly than usual, and we could come up with an amenable schedule for us to keep tabs on the resting kid in his dorm.
Zav is staying with him to eat and get dressed for the first two hours, but Kit will be alone with Dottie and his phone for the next class session.
I didn’t like that idea, but Oriel insisted he might need some time to himself, and when the others agreed, I was outvoted.
Normally, that would piss me off, but the look on the shrimp’s face made me back down and consent.
I look over at my brothers as they finish their meals, asking. “At lunch Oriel will join him until the full block is over. Correct?”
The crow demon nods, wiping his mouth. “Yep. I’ll bring him some snacks from the store as well, though I doubt Salem’s cabinets and fridge are empty.”
“As if, birdbrain,” Salem retorts as he smirks. “KK has plenty of food and drink to make sure he’s feeding that expanded hunger from shifting.”
I nod, pleased with his efforts. “Good. Anton will take over for the next block since O has a free period, and that will give him time to snoop in his crow form. He can check out our recent visitor and our old enemy.”
“I plan to dig until I find the dirt; trust me.” Oriel grimaces as he pushes his tray back. “There are definitely things we need to know that we haven’t located yet, and I intend to find them.”
“The next slot is mine,” Slash interjects firmly. “The little demon is recovering, but since many of the first-year students will be in your Weapons class, I will guide him to the gym to work on strength and shift. It will not be as fast as you wish, I believe, but I will get him trained, Prince.”
The forceful way he says that makes me believe, but there’s more to Slash’s insistence; I just don’t know what.
“Excellent,” I murmur as I watch him closely.
“Anton and Oriel will escort him back to the dorm for dinner since they are free in the next block of time. They will await our return there, and we will make sure the shrimpy has his make-up work for the study session. Anything he finishes, we will divvy up to turn in the next day. Got it?”
Salem frowns, grumbling into his coffee. “I hate that this is two of my packed days and I don’t get a shift, but I know we have to maintain a presence here at lunch to make sure no one oversteps.”
Chuckling, Slash claps him on the back. “You share a room with Kit, old friend. That gives you plenty of time to catch up if need be. Do not fret about being left out.”
I give my second an odd look, then shake my head. He’s so fucking weird about Kit. “Right. Plus, we’ll all have dinner and study time before bed. We can break up Friday’s shifts then as well.”
“I don’t get a shift, either,” Xerxes says as they shrug. “Life is rarely fair, but we will survive.”
He doesn’t look like he’s fine with it, but his words say differently.
“Everyone needs to switch off their ‘worry for the injured’ bullshit and switch on the suspicion of everything lever,” I say firmly as I stare at them from the head of the table.
“Without Kit in the mix, we will all be able to listen, watch, and learn as much as possible during the day. There’s no limit to what we can glean when we are laser-focused on the task; I expect results when we reconvene at lunch and dinner. Got it?”
X sighs heavily, flicking their long hair over their shoulder in irritation. “Yes, Your Highness. We live to serve.”
I frown, narrowing my eyes at the cobra demon. “Snark is unhelpful. If we want to survive the Games and keep the shrimp safe, this is not only important, but necessary. Use powers or strategies you would normally reserve for emergencies only if you must.”
Anton arches a brow as he stands, picking up his tray as he looks at me seriously. “You’d like us to tap into the lineage abilities? For recon and surveillance? Is that not overkill?”
“The Major was chuffed yesterday because he humiliated Lucian. He will be less easy to control in other situations. It is warranted, especially if he fixates on the little demon.” Slash’s expression is full of suppressed anger, and expressing it here and now is not normal for him.
He wants us all to know that we must do things that are not usually our modus operandi in day-to-day life.
“Kit will be unhappy with that,” X says softly.
Of all of us, their hidden gifts are the most intrusive and boundary-crossing.
They will have to explain the use of those powers to our injured brother, and it will not be fun.
“He might not mind Jasper, Slash, Oriel, or Salem’s skills.
However, Zav, Annie, and I have more… emotionally manipulative gifts that will leave marks on our prey. ”
I nod, understanding their concern, but before I can respond, Anton cuts me off.
“Yes, love, that is true, but he will understand that we need to do it to protect him and each other. Our enemies are vaster than we assumed at the start of this year, and the schemes have crossed borders to other realms. It is simply foolish to waste our most coveted abilities when we are trying to ensure the safety of our caliphate, Hell, and the rest of the realms.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself—it’s bigger than a handful of demons being coerced, especially if we want to stay ahead of the bad guys.
Once we parted ways outside the Triclinium, I headed straight for the arena.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are a mix of various-level Weapons classes with a few graduate-level classes of my own.
They’re packed tightly, and like Xerxes, I have no room to go back to check on the shrimp either.
I’m not sure why that bothers me, but I suppose it’s because I prefer everything within my sphere of control.
Kit in his room, injured and occasionally on his own, feels like a risk.
I don’t like it, but I also cannot skip anything with that motherfucker from the court on campus.
Yesterday was bad enough, but at least he determined that we were victorious.
That report should keep my father from lashing out from his gilded throne room—I think.
The quad is busy despite the early hour, and I attribute it to the Major’s presence.
Every demon is rushing to their classes, not dawdling for fear of being late when the ancient soldier or his minions show up.
There are always a few poor souls who end up being made an example of, and I’m sure there will be a bloody scene in that vein soon.
The Major lives to strike fear in the hearts of his men, and he can’t strut around campus if he doesn’t put his money where his mouth is.
“Probably going to happen in one of my fucking classes,” I mutter to myself as I speed up when I get close to my destination. “That would be a double lesson, meant to prove that my father has blessed whatever he’s here to do. Fuck.”
I don’t give a shit about random demons at Discordia; the General’s pet commander can do whatever he wants to them.
However, after lunch I have the 101 block that Oriel, Xerxes, Anton, Zavida, and Salem are in.
The shrimp should be there, too, but luckily, he’s on granted leave because the royal physician favors the little shit.
I’ve yet to be glad for that quirk of Fate so far, but now?
I’m fucking chuffed that the old demon likes Kit so much.
That will save him from seeing what I believe will be a seriously terrible display in that class this afternoon.
Of course, it might gain him a buddy in the dorm if people get hurt—which is almost guaranteed if the Major shows.
When I enter the tunnel, the noise coming from the field is noticeably absent, and I groan internally.
My first session is a second-level training block, and the returning students are usually chatting as they change.
I almost always have to shut them up to start, but the silence echoing in this hall is deafening.
Even if I’m right about our guest later today, someone in authority is out there, and I will have to deal with them when I emerge.
My tail swishes as I psych myself up, moving from concern about my caliphate to detached royal asshole in seconds.
“Ah, there you are, Prince Jasper! I wondered briefly if you might set a poor example by being late to your own class.” Darkstar’s voice is like claws on a chalkboard, but I don’t let it show as I stride out onto the field.
Arching a brow, I check my phone to see that I’m five minutes early as planned. “Perhaps you need Beccarus to wind your watch, Lucian. The hour has not yet passed, and I am early—admittedly, less than is my normal routine, but not late in the slightest.”
The icy blond is dressed all in black like a fucking pirate with that stupid cape swirling around his ankles in the morning wind.
The scent in the air tells me there’s a sandstorm in the Wastes sending the breeze this way, and our headmaster is heartily enjoying the theatrical effect it gives his ridiculous attire.
No wonder my father and all the Court leaders scoff at this dumbass—he’s more a cartoon villain than a serious threat.
Or he was until he found a bunch of other losers to latch onto; now he’s dangerous by association, and I hate it.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was insolence.
” Lucian’s eyes glitter as he shoots a knowing smirk at me.
He knows the emissaries from Court could pop in, and I can’t shoot back a retort as safely as I could before they arrived.
“However, I choose to believe you did not consume enough coffee in that dreadful cafeteria instead.”
“That cafeteria is run by you,” a voice mutters in the crowd, and Darkstar whips around with murder in his eyes.
“Who said that?” No one responds, and he flicks the cape over his shoulders as he strides toward the gathering of second years menacingly. “Come now. If you had the rocks to say it, claim it, gentlemen. Don’t be so weak and predictable.”
A hand raises, and I groan, looking up at the sky. That demon is from one of my father’s favored houses within our line, and though I agree it was brave, the kid doesn’t have the power or skill to go up against the head like this. “I did, sir.”
Before Lucian can open his mouth, I stomp over and roar, “Laps!
Now! Being disrespectful to the headmaster of the college is not acceptable in this arena.
You'll run until you cannot move or I will find a better punishment, Irascus!” The kid looks at me wide-eyed, but he takes off running toward the circle around the arena as instructed.
“That goes double for the rest of you slugs. Now get moving on warm-ups!”
Once my students are occupied, I turn back to Lucian.
He’s observing me, like a spider with a fly.
It would be funny under most circumstances; his power isn’t remotely close to my own.
He’s not a threat—in that way. But he has power and sycophants in other places, and I don’t need to piss him off enough to send one of those ridiculous office demons scuttling after my brothers in my absence.
“Excellent discipline, Eversore. You’ve quite a hold on your students.”
I snort, rolling my eyes as I watch the class warming up. “Good order and respect often breed loyal soldiers—that’s something the General and the Major taught when we grew up at the palace.”
With sharp blades, powerful fists, hot pokers, darkness, captivity, and punishments that haunt me, but fuck if I’m going to tell him that.