Not that I was giving up on Orca just yet.
Amos cleared his throat. “As rare as they are, their numbers are still sufficient to suggest they’re not simply one-offs like myself. There is a proposal to add a new power class to the Genus.” He carefully avoided glancing my way. “Both Crows and Summoners would be classified as Aberrants.”
Of course we would.
“Once again,” Amos continued with a grin, “we’ve somehow found ourselves on a tangent. That’s the fun of history, I guess! It’s as good a place as any to end my lecture for the day.”
A few students exchanged puzzled looks. We had almost half an hour left and Amos never let us go early.
“The rest of today’s class,” he added, “will focus on what you’ll be doing for the remainder of the semester in lieu of homework.”
The number of puzzled looks increased dramatically. Amos loved homework even more than he loved his own weird jokes.
Amos tapped his Glass again. At the top of the vid screen appeared the two words every student eventually learns to fear:
Group Presentation.
The old bastard smiled as rustles of discontent filled the auditorium. “You will split into groups consisting of four to five individuals. I’m not going to determine those groups for you. The Free States has, in its infinite wisdom, decided you’re all adults, so you can damn well form them without my help.” He shook his head, grumbling again to himself. “By the end of today’s class, I want each group to have chosen their name and a topic to present on. That topic must have something to do with post-Break History. Under your own direction and initiative, each group will meet over the next month outside of class to research the topic, design visual aids, and practice your presentation.” His voice hardened momentarily. “When I say practice, I mean practice. If I feel any team has opted to just wing it, I will be giving that team a very carefully considered and well-practiced F.”
Maybe sadism was a pre-requisite for faculty members.
CHAPTER 28
Groups formed quickly, especially on the Cape side, where there weren’t that many of us to begin with. I’d had a feeling that Shane might stick with me—while we barely saw each other outside of class, he’d remained friendly since that first healing—but I was surprised when Kayleigh joined us.
The Empath had started to make a habit of seeking me out whenever the rush of other people’s emotions became too much for her, but otherwise, she’d kept her distance. Even in History class, where the sheer number of students caused her serious problems, she sat behind me, in a row all by herself, rather than next to me. I was getting all too familiar with the feeling of her bare toes brushing the back of my neck.
Was she using me? Yeah, pretty much. But the deep lines under her eyes were starting to fade, and it felt kind of nice to be useful for once. Plus… it’s not like any other first-year woman was in a hurry to touch me.
Even if her toes were cold as hell. Like little chips of ice.
Anyway, it was kind of a big deal when she came down to join Shane and me. Maybe our relationship wasn’t all about me being used after all. Or maybe she was freaked out about having to do a group project without her favorite emotion nullifier.
Yeah, that sounded a bit more like it.
Unfortunately, we needed a minimum of four people in our group, and nobody else seemed interested. I’d given Orca a hopeful look—and not just because two months of Nikolai’s training had somehow made Nadia even more stupendously hot—but the sleek Stalwart had already been heading in the other direction, descending the stairs to join a group consisting of Matthew, Santi, and London.
Flanked by two of the hottest women in our class, El Bosque was grinning like he’d just won the Graduation Games. Lucky fucking bastard. That smile slipped only slightly when Ishmae joined as their fifth.
I didn’t have to be an Empath to feel Shane’s disappointment in the Pyro’s choice.
The next full group to form was Caleb, Jeremiah, Tessa, Freddy, and Olympia, but after that, the remaining groups started to all fall into place. I waited to see who would be the odd person out, forced to join our group by virtue of numbers and sheer necessity.
Somehow, it wasn’t Alan Jackson. The Shifter ended up in a group with the Viking, Winter, Silt, and Erin Pearson. People choosing Alan-fucking-Jackson over me kind of hurt. Would’ve been different if this were Nikolai’s class—Alan was a monster doing anything physical and any team would want him on their side—but for an academic project?
What was he going to do in a presentation besides terrify everyone?
When the dust had settled, and the other groups were fully formed, Wormhole found herself the odd first-year out. She glanced up toward our group, went pale, and looked away.
“On second thought, ladies and germs,” Silt told her team in a loud voice, “I’m just not feeling our general Feng Shui.” She stomped up the stairs toward Wormhole, like an avalanche with legs. “What do you say, roomie? Wanna help me make Boneboy do all the work?”
•—•—•
As the two women came closer, Silt nodded to each of us in turn. “Unicorn. Skeletor. Vibe.”
“Vibe?” I looked to Kayleigh who nodded, tucking a wayward strand of electric-blue hair behind her ear.
“It seemed like a good name.”
“It is,” agreed Shane, “but I’m Balm, not Unicorn.”
“Balm’s a shitty codename,” said the Earthshaker, “and you’re the closest thing to a unicorn we’ve got. A ginger High-Three Healer? Come on, man.”
“I like Balm,” muttered Shane to himself.
Keeping everyone’s codenames straight was kind of a pain in the ass. Some people went exclusively by codename; the Viking refused to answer to Erik or Mr. Thorsson, and I couldn’t remember if I’d ever even heard Prince’s real name. Some, like Matthew/Paladin and Nadia/Orca, didn’t care what name people used, while others, like Alan Jackson and Erin, hadn’t picked codenames at all.
“Not sure I get the Skeletor reference,” I admitted. “Did you mean skeleton?”
“You people seriously don’t get any pre-Break vids out here, do you?”
“I tried to tell you, Sofia,” said Wormhole.
“I just didn’t realize it was this bad. Fuck,” said Silt, horrified realization dawning in her dark brown eyes. “I’m going to have to come up with an entirely new repertoire of insults!”
I couldn’t figure the Earthshaker out. Of all the first-years, she and Alan Jackson were the only two who remained indifferent to me, but that seemed to be their general approach towards everyone. At least Silt was kind of funny on occasion. For a walking tree stump, anyway.
“Should we pick a team name?” asked Kayleigh, as Silt and Wormhole took their seats.
“How about Three Badass Bitches, a Unicorn, and a Little Birdie?” suggested Silt.
“Who are you calling little?” I asked. “I’ve seen children taller than you.”
“And with dicks bigger than yours, no doubt,” she retorted delightedly.
“Oh my God,” murmured Wormhole. “This is a nightmare.”
I don’t know if Kayleigh agreed with Evelyn, or was just responding to the waves of embarrassment no doubt coming off of her, but the blue-haired Empath casually pressed her bare foot against my leg.
Toes like icicles, I’m telling you.
“Boneboy and I are just getting started, Evie,” declared Silt, brown eyes gleaming. “Wait until we start hurling shit at each other like monkeys.”
“You know,” said the other girl, “with you joining this group, your old group only has four members… maybe I should pop down and join them?”
“Don’t even think about it.” Silt grinned. “I know where you sleep.”
“What about The Friendly Five?” suggested Shane in desperation. His words prompted a moment of long, pained silence.
“I hereby move that Unicorn be stripped of all naming privileges,” said Silt. “All those in favor?”
Shane’s look of injured betrayal as everyone, even Vibe, voted in favor was a thing of rare beauty. Not unicorn-rare… but close.
“Now Fearsome Five, on the other hand,” continued Silt. “That’s got kind of a ring to it.”
“If we were Black Hats,” said Kayleigh, “but we’re not.”
“Black Hats… black sheep…” Silt shrugged. “I say we own it.”
The Fearsome Five had a much easier time picking the topic for our project. Something Alexa had mentioned regarding the number of former Capes at the Academy had left me curious about our teachers. Nikolai was clearly a Titan, and Jessica a Stalwart, but what about the rest of them? Did they all have powers? Had they all been Capes? And if so, who? More importantly, what had Gabriella’s costume looked like?
That flame might have gone dim, but it wasn’t entirely out. Not yet anyway.
The other four came on board almost immediately. After three months of teachers forcing us to study, the idea of turning the tables and studying them had a definite appeal. It also meant we might be able to just interview our teachers and skip the more tedious research methods entirely. I don’t think anyone minded that possibility.
The others headed off to the next class, while I went down to add our name and topic to the list. Amos had his feet on the desk, eyes closed, and the noises coming from his open mouth had to be heard to be believed. And the old man said I snored?
I rolled my eyes and started off.
“Mr. Banach.” Amos’ snores stopped before I could take a step, but his eyes stayed closed. “Good job. With today’s discussion and the Empath both. Keep it up.”
I was still shaking my head as I left and the snores rose again in volume. Curmudgeonly old fart or not, Amos was something else.
CHAPTER 29
Take your average first-year’s schedule. Add in tutors on Saturday and Sunday, as well as a mandatory counseling session. Then pile on after-hours group meetings a couple times a week for History, not to mention the occasional drive-by sensory-deprivation request from the resident Empath…
Tired didn’t even begin to cover how I felt. I could barely remember what simple tiredness was like. Sometimes, I dreamed of just being tired.
And then Nikolai decided we’d worked hard enough on conditioning, and that it was time to get back into actual combat. Two weeks of painful sparring later, I was one big walking bruise.
I shifted about on the hard soil, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt. I was meeting with the other members of the so-called Fearsome Five out in the clearing where I’d first found Vibe, the Los Angeles sun still pleasant and cheerful despite our steady push toward summer.
“So Nikolai didn’t tell you anything at all?” asked Shane.
“Afraid not, Unicorn.” Silt shrugged. “I’m starting to think the guy just doesn’t like me.”
“Did you try to… you know… be nice?” That was Kayleigh.
“I’m always nice.”
“We still have plenty of time,” said Shane, the group’s self-designated morale officer. “I’d say we’re making pretty good progress.”
“What about you, Boneboy? Any luck with Professor Strich?”
I’d pushed hard to have Gabriella Stein as my research subject, but for some reason, the others had voted me down. Given the way Isabel Ferra and Emery Goldstein felt about me, that had left me with a choice between Nikolai and Jessica Strich.
The choice had been pretty obvious.
“A little bit,” I admitted, trying to straighten up without wincing. “Turns out Jessica is Matthew’s older sister.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“I thought everyone knew that,” added Evelyn. “What else would she have been?”
“Hell if I know. An aunt? A cousin?” I shrugged. “Anyway, she’s a Stalwart, like we suspected. Graduated second in 69, and only became a teacher last year. She’s also way, way cooler than her little brother.”
Cute too, in a smile-with-you-flirt-with-you-drink-you-under-the-table-and-then-leave-you-chained-to-the-flagpole-in-nothing-but-your-underwear sort of way. Like Her Majesty, I guess… just without the fear-boner.
“Maybe we should change your codename,” said Silt. “Captain Obvious is still available.”
“Matthew’s not that bad,” protested Wormhole.
“Only because you’re so busy checking out his cute little butt that you can’t see the stick shoved right up it.”
The Teleporter went bright red, but I think Shane blushed even harder. Silt had no filter between her mouth and her brain.
She was right about the stick up Paladin’s ass though.
“Anyway, that leaves three years unaccounted for between graduation and her return to the Academy, but I’m not sure yet if she spent those years as a Cape… or what her codename was, if so.”
“Clearly, daddy dearest decided not to make her the next Paladin.”
I nodded. “I’m not sure what the story is there either.”
“I know we’re still just first-years, but have any of you thought about what we’ll be doing once we graduate?” asked Wormhole.
“I think it depends on which Cape team we end up on,” mused Shane.
“There isn’t a team in the Free States who won’t want a unicorn, Unicorn.” Silt shrugged her wide shoulders. “You’re going to have your pick.”
“I’d like to stay here in Los Angeles,” said Kayleigh, looking out at the endless waters of the Pacific. “Maybe join the older Paladin’s Defenders. What about you, Damian?”
“Not sure,” I admitted. “Graduation’s a long way away. I’m more worried about making it out of this semester in one piece.”
“I’m going home,” said Silt.
“Back to Texas?” Evelyn frowned. “Why?”
It was a good question. Texas was part-Badlands, part-South, and entirely unpleasant.
Silt shrugged again. “I’ve got unfinished business in Brownsville.”
Evelyn wrinkled her nose in thought. “By the time we graduate, I might be able to get you there in one hop.”
“That would be helpful. Fuck knows walking would suck.” Silt patted her roommate’s knee. “I knew there was a reason I was keeping you around.”
I must have winced or something as I shifted position yet again, because when I looked up, Shane was eyeing me worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay? I know Nikolai wanted us to taper down the healings even further, but maybe…”
“I’m fine.” I shrugged, and then instantly wished I could go back in time to reconsider that gesture. Fucking hell. Everything hurt. “Nothing some ice, alcohol, and black-market stim-weed wouldn’t fix.”
Vibe looked only slightly less miserable than I felt. The Empath had been keeping even closer than usual over the past two weeks. Even out there in the clearing, her fingertips brushed against the exposed skin of my wrist. “I’m just glad to get a break from feeling everyone else’s pain. My own bruises suck badly enough.”
Silt, who’d been matched up in her most recent bout against Prince—still chubby, despite Nikolai’s best efforts—and come through without a scratch, met my eyes and grinned. “Did we learn a little lesson yesterday about being careful what we wish for?”
“Do you think I wanted to fight Orca?” I’d heard the comments a handful of guys—normals, one and all—made when Nadia walked past. Wouldn’t mind getting taken down by her and Damn, five rounds wouldn’t be enough, if you get what I’m saying. Fucking morons. There’s nothing sexy about getting your ass handed to you. The gorgeous Stalwart was stronger, faster, and more skilled than I was. The only advantage I had was my reach, and she’d gotten past that in about ten seconds.
She hit even harder than Paladin.
If I’d had any choice in the matter, I’d have been the one fighting Prince. Or maybe Shane. He was the closest thing to a friend I had at the Academy, but he still couldn’t fight worth shit. Unfortunately, Nikolai was still choosing the pairings. In the past two weeks, I’d been
matched up against the best fighters in our class. Alan Jackson. The Viking. El Bosque. Ishmae. And last but far from least, Orca.
“You might want to steer clear of Nadia for a bit,” murmured Kayleigh. “From what I was sensing, she’s super pissed off at you.”
“Wait, she’s pissed at me? I didn’t even hit her once!”
“Exactly,” said Silt. “Three months ago, you fought an epic, twenty-minute battle with Paladin, going full-Walker at the very end. Then yesterday, you let her win in a matter of seconds? That’s not the way into a Stalwart’s pants, Skeletor.”
“I didn’t let her win, any more than I did Alan-fucking-Jackson!” I protested. “Also, you’ve got to stop with this whole full-Walker thing. The arena’s dampeners are clearly working or you’d be burying opponents in the dirt instead of just breaking their noses.”
“And jaws.”
“You broke Prince’s jaw?”
Silt shrugged. “They healed it afterward.”
“Damn.” I was pretty sure I didn’t want to face the stocky Earthshaker in the Pit either, dampeners or not. “Anyway, everything I’ve read about Crows says our powers are external, not internal. We raise Walkers… we don’t become them.”
On the bench next to Silt, Evelyn had gone pale. I kicked myself for letting Silt goad me. Wormhole still wasn’t totally comfortable with my presence, and this topic was a fantastic fucking way to wipe out any progress I’d made.
“So how do you explain what happened with Paladin?” pressed Silt.
“First, he beat my face in, then I got angry, and then he beat my face in again?” I shrugged. “Everything after that can be blamed on the concussion.”
“He did have one,” admitted Shane, “although I’m not sure that explains—”
“There you have it,” I said, cutting off the ginger. “Concussion-induced mania. It’s a thing.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone digested that possibility. Then, a slow smile spread across Silt’s brown face. “So Nadia should’ve hit you harder if she wanted a real fight? Is that what you’re saying?”
See These Bones Page 14