by Lucy Auburn
Now that phoenix fire class is over, I can’t help but wonder if I would’ve been able to concentrate without the demons around. But when I turn to tell them to go away, I don’t see them anywhere—they’re gone again.
Of course. I have nothing to be anxious about now that I’m not trapped in a room with a guy who can cast fire at any moment.
If every one of my classes goes like this, I’ll never learn anything, though I’m not even sure if I’m capable. Even the teacher, who soothingly told me that most students take a few weeks to summon their wings, seemed thoroughly unimpressed with my lack of skills.
After Phoenix Fire Casting 101, I’ve got something called “Weapons Combat with Kade.” Just “Kade,” no last name, no “for beginners” or “101” after the name of the class.
It sounds dangerous. Walking into the classroom, I spot a weapons rack on one wall, targets on another, far down the range, and a series of practice dummies filled with patched-over bullet holes and tears. This time I’m not alone; there are about a dozen other kids in the class, including Sam, who waves to me, and a sleepy-looking Olivia.
But the rest of the students give me a brief once-over before dismissing me, looking unimpressed. Sitting next to Sam on the padded mats on the floor, I have to swallow my anxiety. Just the sight of so many weapons in the room is enough to make me dread what’s coming next.
So of course, as soon as I think about how dangerous this class could be, the demons show up. Just like every time, they pop into existence around me, somehow already leaning up against the wall or kneeling by a sleeping student and poking him in the face.
“Ah,” Ezra says, walking up to the weapons rack with a loving expression on his face, “this place, I like. Think they’ll show her how to use a sword?”
“Swords are so passe. Something like this semiautomatic would be a better choice.” Mateo peers into the gun case, looking excited. “Half the models in here are only distributed to the military. Who is this guy? How’d they get this stuff?”
It’s hard to ignore them—impossible, even. Noticing my distraction, Sam leans over and says, “You’ll like this class. Kade is one of the more exciting teachers. And he’s human.”
“Human? Are most of the teachers?”
“Shifters. Except for Yohan and the headmaster, who are phoenix. Kade is one of only a few non-shifters to serve as a Shield to a phoenix. He knows his stuff.”
I’m about to answer when Lynx distracts me. “Hey Dani, do you think you could open this case for me and get out this history book on 19th century weapons?” He’s standing in front of a locked bookshelf, fingers dipping in and out of the glass. “I mean, since you’re solid and all.”
“Fuck, Lynx.” Sebastian rolls his blue eyes dramatically. “Are you ever not a nerd?”
Thankfully their bickering is cut short as an older man who can only be the teacher enters the room. Tall, with dark tan skin, shaved black hair, and a severe black outfit, Kade definitely looks like the kind of man who knows how to use all these weapons.
And me? Well, I’m the street rat who has never even held a gun.
This is going to be interesting.
“You know what I just realized?” Mateo kneels in front of me, and I try to ignore him, watching as the teacher paces the front of the room, observing each of us. But I can’t ignore the demon’s next words. “The only reason why we could possibly be here is if little Dani is afraid. Which means she has no idea what she’s doing and is completely in over her head.”
Kade’s voice overlaps with his, making it that much harder to pay attention to the words. “Today, we’re going to go back to basics.” His eyes find me among the other students, and I swallow. “We have a new student here today, a miraculous discovery: a first year phoenix. Which means that finally, I won’t be teaching a group of shifters how to shoot guns or hold knives for no reason... you now have someone you have to protect. So I want each of you to select the weapon you would choose to defend someone if you were under attack by five enemies at once. Choose carefully; your last line of defense will be your life.”
Ezra whistles, low and dark. “Wonder what he’ll have you do.”
Just as the demon is done speaking, Kade’s eyes meet mine. “I haven’t forgotten you. Danielle Carpenter, is it?”
“Dani,” I correct him, already annoyed and frustrated; I hate my full name.
“Well, Dani, I’m Kade. And today I’m going to teach you how to turn any object around you into a weapon to use to defend your life—because one day, you very well might have to. Follow me.” Glancing at the other students, he tells them, “You have thirty minutes to choose your weapon, warm up, and tell me your defense plan.”
Leaning over to me, Sam murmurs, “Good luck.”
I have the feeling I’m going to need it.
Chapter 12
“Alright.” Kade has led me, incredibly, into the women’s restroom—which emptied the second the two students putting on lipstick in the mirror spotted him. Turning to me, the big man says, “You’re trapped in here with four enemies and no weapons on hand. What do you use to defend yourself?”
I didn’t realize I’d be getting a test before I even get a weapon. From behind me, Mateo calls out, “Throw soap in their eyes!”
Ezra elbows him. “Shut up and stop distracting her. We’ll never get that book if she fails out of all her classes.”
But his suggestion is the only one my scrambling mind can come up with, so I meekly ask, “Throw soap in his eyes?”
Kade’s dark brows climb. “Who said your attackers were male? And don’t tell me your plan of action in the form of a question. When you’re fighting for your life, you have to mean it. Be decisive. Defend yourself.”
Clearing my throat, I try to sound more decisive, only to suddenly get a full-body shiver straight from my head to my toes as Lynx walks through me from behind. It feels like someone reaching inside my body and dancing their fingertips along every nerve, sending pleasure coursing through them, and I momentarily forget what I was going to say.
“Sorry about that.” Spinning on his foot, Lynx peers inside one of the restroom stalls. “There wasn’t any room in here to walk around you.”
“We’re incorporeal, idiot,” Sebastian mutters. “You could’ve just walked through the wall. I thought a nerd like you would realize that.”
“Well?” Kade is getting impatient with me; to him, it must look like I’m spacing out, eyes glancing around the bathroom at nothing as the demons distract me. “By now, you’re dead, and the academy has lost another rare and precious phoenix. For no reason.”
But Lynx’s words, somehow, have given me an idea. So I blurt out, “I would lock myself in the back restroom and force the enemies to come at me one by one—there’s no room back there, so they wouldn’t be able to flank me.”
“A good idea,” Kade acknowledges, “but your enemies are creative. They slide under the stall; they kick down the stall door. Two are in the handicapped stall with you. What do you do?”
“Pull a pin on a grenade!” Mateo calls out. “Or, huh, maybe you could...”
This time, I manage to filter out his voice. I imagine that it’s quieter, like I’m pointing a remote at him and lowering the volume, and somehow it works. Suddenly his shouted suggestions are the barest hint of a mumble. I widen my quiet field until the others fade away too, and concentrate on the problem at hand.
If I’m alone in a bathroom stall, about to be attacked by four people, there’s only one weapon I can think of that would get the approval of my news Weapons Combat teacher. And it’s not a weapon I know how to use, or even feel any confidence in, but it’s one I would have. Supposedly.
“I would use my phoenix fire... even though I’ve never used it before, and don’t know how it works, don’t even know if I have any—I guess if it were life or death, I’d figure it out.”
To my surprise, despite the babbling insecurity I added to my answer, Kade smiles broadly and claps his l
arge hands once. “Good! Exactly how I want you to be thinking. All of the others have weapons they must learn to use, because their animal forms, though powerful, are just as vulnerable as their human forms. But for you, a phoenix who will always be hunted, the most useful weapon at hand is yourself. And it’s the weapon you must never forget—even though there are others at hand.”
I feel relieved. The instant I do, the four demons fade away completely, going to wherever it is they are when they’re not bothering me.
“So,” Kade continues. “Let’s go over the other weapons that are here, shall we? Now, if you didn’t notice, the backs of these porcelain toilets can be pried off, and they are quite heavy...”
By the end of his lesson, I know two things: that a bathroom is full of deadly weapons, and Kade is an even more formidable teacher than Yohan.
I just hope my next class isn’t quite so nerve-wracking.
Phoenix History with Ocean Johnson at 10:00 AM
My first history class is also the first class of the day where all the students get desks and chairs. It’s a relief; something a little normal for a change. And, if the books, dry erase board, and TV screen are any indication, we’ll be getting our learning in the form of a lecture, not a combat lesson.
I’m still wincing at the smack on the shoulder Sam got when Kade decided to show him just how easily he could disarm his poor grip on a katana. Sam is in this class, too, though Olivia is nowhere in sight; she did well in Weapons Combat, which isn’t surprising, given how easily she fended off my attacker the other night.
Ocean Johnson, it turns out, is a soft-spoken man with long, braided hair and round glasses. He gives us a rundown of something called the Phoenix Wars, which happened in 11th century France. His tone is so soothing that I find myself drifting off more than once, the coffee I drank with breakfast doing little to keep at bay the exhaustion of two long nights with barely any sleep.
I hardly notice I’m falling asleep.
Until I wake up to a distinctive sensation running up my spine, and Sebastian’s voice in my ear. “Boo.” Jerking up, eyes wide, I glance to my right—he’s kneeling next to my desk, staring into my eyes with an unsettling intensity, stroking his finger across my arm.
He doesn’t say anything as I glare at him, just keeps doing what he’s doing, which is ramping up the tingling feelings that start at my toes and get uncomfortably warm near my thighs.
“Stop it,” I hiss at him, and get more attention than I wanted.
“New student.” My eyes jerk to the front. Previously placid Mr. Johnson is giving me quite the heavy glare. “Am I boring you?”
A titter goes up among the students. “No sir. I just uh... didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Yes, well, maybe you should think about that next time, before you run off in the night and into the hands of murderous Grims. Now, onto the next unit in our lesson: the White Phoenix Rampage of 1207, and how it affected the alliance between phoenix and mages in the years to come.”
I try to keep my eyes open as the lesson goes on, but it’s getting hard to concentrate. Sebastian has stopped touching me in favor of leaning back on his heels and staring at me some more, but Ezra and Mateo are having a heated conversation under their breath in the back corner. At least Lynx, scholar and nerd, is behaving himself.
So I try to take a few notes in the margins of the notebook I was given for this class, aware of the fact that almost all the other students have laptops and tablets open on their desks, worth more than any of the things I own—except the pile of cash I stuffed back into the top of my wardrobe this morning.
I’m jotting down a reminder to learn what the hell a White Phoenix is when Lynx decides to prove me completely wrong about his ability to behave himself.
“This lecture is boring,” he complains, approaching the front of the class and narrowing his eyes at Mr. Johnson. “All of this history is far less interesting or impactful on current events than more recent, post-18th century history. No wonder you’re drifting off, Dani.”
I have to bite back a retort; I am not drifting off, except that somehow the lecture has now moved onto a subject I’m completely in the dark about, because I haven’t heard the past few minutes or so. I’ve been trying to imagine a White Phoenix.
Okay, fine, I drifted off. But Lynx is hardly helping. I give him my best glare, knowing that it must look like I’m glowering at the whiteboard.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just trying to help. If you’re bored by the lecture, clearly there’s a way to help you keep your attention up front.” He grins. “I’ll keep you awake.”
Then he reaches down, grabs the hem of his shirt, and pulls it up over his head.
I’ve seen Lynx shirtless before; the night I died and came back, I looked up onto the cliffs and saw that he’d taken his shirt off and was about to dive into the water. But that was from a distance, when I had a dozen other things on my mind, especially my death.
Up close, his taut expanse of brown skin is undeniably beautiful. Planes of muscles ripple on his chest, from perfectly formed pecs to sharp, gorgeous abs. He looks like a cast member from Magic Mike; his attraction is undeniable.
And as I watch, he walks behind Mr. Johnson—then straight through him, until the two are briefly merged into one, a gorgeous body flickering beneath the surface. It only last for a second before the man moves, and Lynx is no longer standing right on top of him. But he’s smirking right at me, like he knows the affect he’s had.
Stupid demon.
“Does anyone feel that?” the teacher asks, frowning like he thinks we’ve done something. “There was a breeze. The air conditioning shouldn’t be on in winter. Here, let me check the windows...”
While the teacher goes around the room to make sure there’s no source for the sudden draft, Lynx leans up against the dry erase board, his muscled arms crossed against his gorgeous chest. He’s watching me, his eyes knowing, like he can sense the kicked-up beat of my heart or the dryness of my throat.
“See? I knew I could get your eyes up front.”
“Yeah,” Ezra mutters, “but she wasn’t exactly paying attention. And in case you clowns have forgotten, we didn’t come back here to distract her all day. We’re here for the book. The sooner we can get her into the top-level library, the better.”
Lynx pouts at him. “You’re no fun.”
Done with the windows, Mr. Johnson paces back to the front of the room. He’s about to start his lecture again—and this time, I don’t want to miss a thing.
So I close my eyes, breathe deep, and relax. Everything is fine, I’m okay, and I certainly don’t need four dumb demons ruining my first day of classes when the punishment for messing up here is getting burned into ashes. Probably.
A few deep breaths later, I open my eyes—and they’re gone, just like I wanted.
So I don’t know why I feel disappointed when, for the rest of the lecture, there isn’t a single ab or pec to distract me.
Chapter 13
During lunch, I ask Olivia about the “top level library,” hoping that she’ll be able to take me there and show me a book of demon-dismissing spells.
“Oh, you mean Melisandra’s Library? It’s named after the founder, and it’s on the top floor.”
“That’s the one! Do you think there’s time to go up there?” I ask around a bite of soft, buttery dinner roll and a forkful of delicious beef roast. This place isn’t so bad when the food is taken into account.
“We could,” Olivia says, “but you can’t get in unless you have your student ID.”
She sounds hesitant. I frown at her, and swallow, so I don’t look so crazed and rude. “Okay then, how do I get that? Is there some kind of appointment where I get my picture taken or something?”
“Well.” Now I can tell she’s unhappy, I just don’t know why. “About that...”
“You’re not getting your ID. Not yet, anyway.” I turn to see Petra is coming up behind us, a tray in her hand; she giv
es me a slightly resentful look as she sits down on Olivia’s right. “You fucked up and ran away, Dani. Student IDs are a privilege, not a right.”
“All this over a card with my photo on it?”
Petra explains, “The cards open up the libraries and study halls, as well as the back gardens and any research labs. That means access to all of Phoenix Academy’s secrets any time of day or night. You haven’t exactly proven yourself trustworthy with those secrets.”
“Not to worry,” Olivia tells me, sounding stressed, “I’m sure you’ll get one in a few weeks. Once you’ve built up trust.”
“Once you’ve built up your grades, too,” Petra adds.
Great. Just great. So I have to memorize a bunch of new history in addition to everything else, just so I can get rid of demons plaguing me.
I’m about to ask them if they’d mind doing me a teeny tiny little favor and checking out a book for me—one with a long and suspicious title—when Liam and Sam show up, their own trays in hand. Liam scoots up next to me, looks me straight in the face, and complains, “After all that effort we went through to find you and save your ass, you just had to run away.”
I frown at him. “It’s not like I asked you to save my ass.”
He sighs, long-suffering. “Man. You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Shaking his head, he turns towards his tray and digs a fork into his mashed potatoes, seeming not to see the look of betrayed irritations Olivia shoots his way. Meanwhile, I’ve got a full-on blush going, even though I’m not interested in Liam—something about being called “cute” always gets me.
I’m not cute. I’m a little short, sure, but not adorable or anything. Petra is inches shorter.
Leaning in, the older girl whispers to me, “Don’t worry about Liam. He hits on every new girl. In a week or two he won’t even remember doing it.”