by K. F. Breene
“Whoa, wait a minute.” Charles ran to catch up, unable to help a smirk at the small curl of smoke rising from Bert’s scalp. The man should’ve just backed away like everyone else. “The Boss said no to that.”
“True. And if you aren’t a snitch, we won’t get caught going against his wishes.”
“Sasha, no. No way.” Charles grabbed her arm to keep her from marching through the gate toward the parking lot. A pure shot of lightning blasted his palm.
“Ow!” He shook his hand. “Why the hell are you sparking? What are you, a mutant?”
“No. Just a pet. Or maybe that’s the same thing,” she muttered softly.
He got the feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear that. Her chest bowed in. He’d seen people do that in the field, closing down, trying to protect their vitals. The words, quiet and deep, hinted at a profound hurt. Something more than just taking offense to that idiot Bert. Something more than indignation, or even outrage. This was something older; old haunts that stayed with her.
Charles had noticed her look of crushed bewilderment earlier. He’d seen the dark cloud settle more firmly around her shoulders. It was heavier and darker than the previous dark cloud of failure and uncertainty. It was adding weight and pressure, which might crush her chances of becoming whatever the Boss thought she could be.
The strange thing was, Sasha seemed like such a tough, street-smart girl. She would run head-first into danger with a smile on her face, but call her a pet and she broke down. There was a sensitivity there, an uncertainty of being different and cast aside, that flowed beneath the fun-loving, brash exterior. She might play at being indestructible, but she was a person underneath it all, with the same soft spots and triggers. Charles could sympathize; he was extremely young for Watch Commander, and got poked at and ridiculed constantly. He’d spent a whole year beating the crap out of people to mask his insecurity. Sasha would beat this, too, she just had to beat a few heads first.
Maybe Charles should show her how. Later, though. For right now, he would use a little charm. He’d been studying up, watching the human romance movies. A little research and voila, spread legs and a happy ending. Fail proof.
“Hey,” he said, careful not to touch her in case she blasted him with one of those hair eating fogs. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”
“No. You must’ve missed that step in your pick-up routine.”
Her voice was flat. Serious, or sarcastic… It was hard to tell with her when she was in a bad mood. Probably serious—she didn’t tend to joke when she was sad.
Movie rule number one: when in doubt, apologize.
“I’m sorry, that was my fault. I can be really oblivious at times. But you really are, you know. You have beautiful eyes…”
She hesitated as she reached for the door handle. Slowly, not able to help herself, she turned to him, insecurity riding her movements. Fidgety. “Yeah right. I’m ugly compared to the girls in that mansion.”
Her long eyelashes fluttered and her heart-shaped lips dropped into a sensuous pout. Oh man, it would be worth it fighting that weird essence of the Boss. Charles wanted to conquer this mountain so bad, it hurt.
However, movie rule number two: he had to take it easy. Easy and sensitive—human chicks dug that.
He suppressed his grin and leaned against the car. “They have nothing underneath it. All they are is hip and breast. You are the whole package. You make me want to be a better person.”
Her brows dipped in confusion as her body unconsciously swayed toward him. He straightened up a little, draping his body around her, but not touching her yet. He had her on the hook, but he hadn’t reeled her in. She was skittish. He had to take his time.
“I am?” Her pout got more pronounced, uncertainty tugging at the corners of her lips.
Classic chick response. “Yes, you are. You’re really sexy. I’m scared of walking away and never feeling, in my whole life, the way I feel with you right now. You get me in all the right ways. No one else affects me like you do.”
Her lamb eyes blinked up at him, hopeful. Trusting. Wanting to be something special to a man, and begging him to be that guy. To give her that fantasy of happily ever after.
He bent down toward her, his face close to hers, his hands settling low on her hips. “We fit together, you and me. I like you just the way you are. We’ll make magic together.”
She stepped closer, unable to help herself, her eyes on his lips. Her hands, kept low, reached for him, needy. Wanting to be loved.
A surge of electricity lit up his world. His teeth welded shut and his eyes vibrated in his skull. He rolled back against the metal of the car and shimmied down the hood. Electricity frazzled his nerves and zinged out through his limbs.
“Why would you do that to me?” he yelled, spasming on the ground. “And what the hell did you just do?”
“A whistle is good, but sometimes I like the power of a Taser.”
“Uuuuhhhhhh-uh.” His body pulsed in a horrible way. “That’s a helluva way to treat someone who’s complimenting you!”
“Charles, really? We’d make magic together? You like me just the way I am? Why didn’t you just say, ‘You complete me’? And no way do I rank over the super models with crazy kick moves that walk in that house. Give me a break.”
“I was trying to make you feel better!”
“By coming on to me? And, I feel fine. What are you talking about?”
The way he noticed her standing, though, with her chin raised and her face wary, it was pretty clear she did not feel fine. Charles had a feeling she was really self-conscious about something. But she was still fingering that damned Taser like her own personal bodyguard. Two words flashed through Charles head: steer clear.
“My mistake. Operation: Let’s Get Charles Killed When the Boss Finds Out Sasha Has Defied a Direct Order is underway. Let’s get this baby up to one-twenty-nine this time.”
“No problem.”
His balls hurt. Stupid human movies. Now he’d have to give it some time before trying to have sex with her again. Otherwise, she may do irreparable damage.
The next day saw Bert completely hairless and extremely irritated. The man just would not back off when Sasha gritted her teeth and swore. It was his own damn fault.
The bad news was Sasha was now being ridiculed by the other students. Blasting red when no one else could surpass measly purple, hanging out with a hunk Watch Captain, and working magic in a way no one had ever heard, inspired jealousy. Jealousy inspired snide comments and the term pet to be thrown around constantly. The better Sasha got, the worse the comments became.
By the time the class was over, Sasha’s body was rigid and her only response to her mood was fine.
“You don’t seem fine,” Charles remarked as they broke for mid-meal. With the new schedule, they got a short break before weapons.
Sasha’s shrug was tense and robotic. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m fine.”
“Those kids are just jealous. They’re being dicks on purpose.”
This shrug looked more like a weird dance. “I know. It’s fine. Seriously Charles, don’t worry about it—I’m fine.”
“Sasha—“
“Stop staring at my boobs.”
Charles yanked his gaze upwards. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Her smirk vanished as the familiar forlorn expression resettled on her face. The knot in her forehead winked back into existence. Charles had realized it was her thinking cap. “I just have to get really good at this.” She sighed. “Stefan is gold, and that’s great. Do you want to eat outside? I don’t feel like being overheard when I’m trying to remember stuff.”
Charles loaded a plate with meat from the house buffet and followed her out. “The Boss is deep, burnished gold. It’s the highest level before you rocket into white.”
She nodded and sat, putting her plate off to the side and pulling out her notes. Charles’ eyes monitored her lips as she chewed on the end of her pencil. He really
wanted those lips wrapped around the head of his— “Ow!” He rubbed his nose where she’d just snapped him with her pencil.
“Get laid, already. Focus for two seconds. So pale gold is…” Her clear hazel eyes stared at him.
“Not as strong as the Boss.”
She nodded again. “The order is purple, as the lowest, blue, green, red, orange, gold, white, black.”
“Explain to me why this is so hard for you to remember?”
Sasha threw him a scowl. “I’ve never heard any of this stuff before. You’ve heard it since you were a kid. Give me a break. Okay, I should be extra awesome, since I’m supposed to be black, but instead, when I do things, they seem to have the opposite effect. Like I’m doing it wrong. Or something. I can’t understand Bert half the time when he tells me things.”
“Wait…you’re supposed to be black? Who said?”
Sasha waved it away. “I shoot black stuff in dire situations. Stefan thinks this is good news.”
Huh. Yeah, that would explain a great many things with the Boss. But he’d never even heard of a black power level…
Back on track, he said, “Maybe you’re not doing it wrong, but it’s just because you pack such a wallop?”
“I use red all the time. That should be middle tier. How is that a wallop?”
“I don’t know. Maybe use your normal power level and it gets easier?”
She shook her head in frustration. “That’s what I mean. It doesn’t seem to work like that for me. You guys struggle to pull magic when it gets closer to your power level. For me, when I get higher up there, all of a sudden it is like trying to hold back a flood. Like I am wrestling with a bear, or something. It’s not the same. Why am I not the same, Charles? Why am I always different?”
Charles had one terrified moment of panic when he thought she would cry. Her eyes glistened and her body bowed in on itself, fragile and vulnerable. Dealing with a lifetime of insecurities and loneliness. He’d asked some questions during her high after those car rides—she couldn’t remember actually losing her parents, but she constantly felt their absence; the hole where unconditional love was supposed to reside. Her foster family hadn’t fully taken her in; they’d merely been a place to live. Her boyfriend, as her chosen family, hadn’t ever really understood her. She’d always been the square peg trying to smash itself into the round hole.
Kind of like her set up right now.
Charles couldn’t help his heart going out to her, but it didn’t change his terror at what to do if she freaking cried! Should he pat her back, or give her a hug? Last time he tried to console a female, she got pissed off that he thought she was weak and kicked him in the face. Human women weren’t as violent, though. Right? The movies always had the guys being supportive—but he’d tried going the romance movie route and that had ended horribly.
I really hope she doesn’t punch me in the balls.
As the water wobbling in her eyes threatened to overflow, he scanned his plate for a place to put down his ribs. He had to do something.
Thankfully, though, a second later she shook out her shoulders and scrunched up her face, thinking again. Charles let out a sigh. She held it together this time, but the woman was a hair’s breath away from losing it. He kind of hoped he wasn’t around when she did. She was unpredictable.
“I can do this,” she muttered.
“Okay, excellent. Let’s practice the fire element one more time before we head to James for weapons. You’re best at that element.”
“Argh!” She threw her pencil at a tree. “Don’t you listen? I always pull too much magic.”
Charles knew this, but he loved watching the flame flicker in her fingers. It was neat. Besides, she always reigned herself in eventually. “Just go slow. And do not make me bald! I don’t need pity sex. Well…yes I do; but I don’t need pity to get sex, is what I meant. Except…”
Her eyes narrowed. “No, Charles, that wouldn’t work with me, either.”
“What the hell did I do to the Boss that he had to pair me with the biggest prude in the world?” He flashed her a grin. “For now.”
Sasha shook her head and closed her eyes. She dropped her hands to her knees, palms up. For a second, nothing happened, and then a faint blue flame flickered over her fingers. The flame turned green slowly, working toward more power. To red, her default. Lately, she’d stopped there, too nervous to draw more.
His eyes scanned the meat in front of him. And then swept the ground for the bottle of spicy BBQ sauce. The cooks were getting the hang of BBQ, but they still shied toward bland. He had to up the ante with sauce that would curl his hair.
“Where am I?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
Oh yeah.
Orange flame grew along her palm, rising six inches into the sky. He felt his own power stir. She had this awesome ability to coax another person to draw more magic. At least, she could with him. It was excellent and really helpful.
“Orange. Good job.”
Her breath came in fast pants. “It’s trying…to…force me…”
Charles reached forward to shake her shoulders, but he still had the ribs. Dang it! Orange started to morph toward gold. Her eyebrows dipped low over her eyes. If he wasn’t careful, soon he’d get a hairless fog!
Thinking fast, he leaned forward and slapped her across the face. Her eyes snapped open and the glow winked out. BBQ sauce smeared her cheek.
“It helped, didn’t it?” Charles said with a haughty air before she had time to berate him. “And it worked way faster. I think we have a winner. No need for thanks.”
Sasha leaned forward very slowly, anger burning in her eyes. She put her little hand in his palm, the heat making his dick stand on end. Suddenly his body zinged with a shock so strong his teeth clamped shut and his eyes bulged. The only sound he could make was, “Ahhhhhhhhheeeeeee.”
She took back her hand as her smile turned smug. “Well, it helped, didn’t it?”
Rubbing one palm against the other, his ribs laying on the ground, he said, “How could that have possibly helped me? And how did you do that? And look at my ribs! They have dirt and grass stuck to them.”
“I wasn’t trying to help you. I was helping me. And it worked—I no longer feel extremely pissed off that you slapped me, you donkey. Although, I did waste a bunch of money on a Taser I no longer need.”
“You reached gold this time,” he said with approval.
“Stefan’s gold?”
Was it just him, or were her eyes twinkling with something like a challenge? Her goal seemed aimed toward topping the Boss. Huh.
Too bad she hadn’t. “It was a lighter gold. But if you kept going…”
Her sigh deflated her chest. “I don’t know—it gets too…slippery or something. Too hard to control. It’s like the elements all try to rush me. Like I’m walking on a knife blade while juggling fire. I don’t want to get magic shock…”
Good point. Charles hadn’t thought about that. Usually a person only got magic shock when teamed with two or more other people for a large spell or incantation. The group had to be careful to centralize the flow so no one individual got a larger dump of magic. Since the Boss took power of the clan, though, he usually joined those circles and balanced everything out. It was one of his special, natural abilities that proved advantageous to the clan—they could form larger circles and construct more advanced spells with him involved. Rarely anyone got magic shock anymore.
Only, Sasha could apparently get it on her own. Charles couldn’t even imagine how frustrating that must be. To constantly have to watch your own back from pulling in too much. Also, that it was possible.
Once again, Charles couldn’t help but wonder what the Boss had found.
Nor could he salvage his dinner.
He chose to worry about his stomach for the moment. Let the Boss handle the prickly human.
Grumbling, he went back inside to refill his plate.
*****
“That is your dagger. Your da
gger is your best friend. You take your dagger everywhere with you. You sleep with your dagger. You know your dagger like the back of your hand. When you are in trouble, your dagger will save you. Do I make myself understood?”
I raised my hand slowly from the back of the large, bare room in the basement of the mansion. Weapons of all kinds glittered on the walls in the dim light, screaming violence. A cluster of tall students stood in front of me holding their daggers, gripping them with assurance. With a speech like that, not having a dagger or knife would present a serious problem.
I had a serious problem.
“Yes, the human in the back.” James was a robust man with salt and pepper hair and a grim face. He stood on a platform, his thick arms wound around his back in faux patience as he looked over his troops.
“Umm,” I froze as the students, older than the elements class but still not quite my age, gawked. More than one snickered. “I haven’t been issued a dagger.”
“Oops.” Charles scratched his nose.
James stared for a moment, his deep brown eyes flat. Finally, he tweaked his head toward the wall o’ death. “Get one.”
“Yup. Okay.” I hurried over and reached out for a smallish blade—until I noticed a skull on its hilt.
“Yuck,” my hand flinched back. I scanned the area surrounding it, seeing every type of sharp object in existence. Great, curved blades gleamed against the gray wall, heavy and intense. Not for me. I moved down, noticing a polished wood stick with a chain leading from the tip. At the end of the chain was a ball with spikes. I grimaced again. Finally my eyes settled on a dagger about the length of my forearm with a straight hilt and no frills.
As I grabbed the hilt and pulled it from the wall, the expertly polished handle slipped. The blade went skittering across the floor, straight at the center of the class.
“Crap!” I screeched.
“Great gods, jump!” James shouted.
Barely missing the ankles of a beautiful, redheaded girl, the blade did a pirouette, sparkling for a second in the dim lighting before it stilled.
“Sorry!” I held up my hand to ward off the death glare from James. “It’s my first day.”