by W. J. May
“Soda,” Benji answered automatically.
The rest of them shook their heads.
Without a backward glance, she swept through the rows of tables to the buffet line at the far end of the room. Truth be told, she didn’t know why she was so annoyed. Even without the added celebrity of their parents, she and her friends had always drawn attention. Both she and Lily had once stopped traffic waiting for a ride outside the local coffee shop, and each of the boys was too handsome for their own good. It was by no means the first time they’d found themselves at the center of some petty crush, laughing about it from their table in the back of the room.
But for whatever reason, this one didn’t feel the same.
“Just some crisps,” she told the woman behind the counter, once she’d moved to the front of the line. “Oh, and a soda.”
She reached into her pocket for some money but a hand shot out of nowhere, wrapping around her wrist. A second later, she found herself staring at the world’s most blinding smile.
“Here, let me get it.”
In a move as quick as the cheetah inked onto his arm a tall curly-haired boy slipped between her and the register, pulling out his wallet with another winning smile. He paid quickly, but made no move to relinquish the food. Instead he leaned against the counter, balancing it on his arm.
“I missed you this summer. You stayed in the city?”
Aria’s eyes flashed with irritation as she bit the inside of her lip.
Oliver Jack. If there was one thing she didn’t miss this summer, it was the inescapable flirtation of Oliver Jack. Never trust a guy with two first names. No matter how cute he was.
At the same time, Guilder was a close community. The people you went to school with would haunt you for the rest of your life. It was unwise to alienate people in the eleventh grade.
“Yeah,” she answered shortly, “I stayed in the city.”
He nodded like they were the only two people in the cafeteria. Like it wasn’t a wasted conversation. Like he wasn’t holding up the line.
“Not me.” He spun the soda on the tip of his finger, hitting it so quickly it didn’t have time to fall. “My parents took me to Monaco for the summer. It was all right. I surfed a lot.”
Fascinating.
That soda’s going to explode.
“That’s awesome, Ollie.” She made a failed swipe for the crisps, then gritted her teeth. Benji had a cheetah, too, but he wasn’t obnoxious about it. “Well, I’m going to get back—”
“There were a lot of girls at the resort,” he interrupted suddenly.
She stared up at him, wondering if she’d misheard. “...okay?”
That grin was back, obnoxious as ever. She didn’t know why the rest of her classmates found him so attractive. Most of the time, she imagined grinding his face into mud.
“Really hot ones, too. They spoke French.”
Okay—what the heck is WRONG with everyone today?
“Ollie,” she lowered her voice, “if you’re about to tell me about the time you made an amateur porno with some French girls over the summer, I really don’t want to hear—”
“I didn’t even notice them,” he concluded, like it was some big revelation. His arms opened with a sudden laugh. “I guess I’m only into girls with ink.”
I guess that makes you an even bigger douchebag than I thought.
She smiled sweetly and yanked her food out of his hands. “Well, then you’ve come to the right place—”
“Yeah, I have.” He stepped suddenly closer, oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t let her finish a sentence. Across the cafeteria, they were being watched by a pair of blue eyes. “And it’s no secret that you’ve got the best ink around.”
Her spine stiffened as she glared up at him. Somewhere in the last few sentences, they’d left the rules of casual conversation behind. Even now, he was leaning further into her space.
“What’s your point?” she asked quietly.
His eyes danced as he whispered in her ear. “Point is, maybe you’ll show me sometime.”
So remember how I have a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker?
Well, this next part wasn’t going to help with that...
Chapter 2
“Detention?!”
Aria stood alone in the middle of the recently evacuated cafeteria, ankle-deep in a pile of mysterious purple foam that hadn’t been there before. In front of her stood a line of three teachers, the lunch lady hovering a few steps behind—still clutching a plastic tray as a shield.
“Why the he—Why do I have detention, when he’s the one who came on to me?!”
The teachers shared a quick look as Mr. Dorf rubbed his eyes.
“Watch it, Miss Wardell.”
She threw up her hands. “It was his bloody fault!”
“And yet, he’s the one lying in the infirmary with a broken nose,” Ms. Kentoff, the math teacher, interjected. “I don’t care who started it, Miss Wardell. You broke his nose.”
“I didn’t break his nose! The chair that flew into his face broke his nose!”
How could she fail to see the distinction?
“It’s true.” The lunch lady (who might have been more amenable before the attack) flashed them an innocent smile, dripping mustard from head to toe. “Mr. Jack was the one who paid her a compliment after purchasing her food. I guess you could say he started it.”
Aria crossed her arms with a withering scowl. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“And you didn’t escalate things?” The momentum came to a pause as Samuel Heeb, one of Aria’s favorite teachers, stepped forward with a sigh. “Aria, you didn’t escalate things?”
A vintage chandelier crashed to the floor behind them, landing in a pile of shattered glass.
“...maybe a little.”
It was a valiant effort, but the game was up. That disappointed sigh had taken all the wind from her sails. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the next words out of his mouth.
“Off you go to the headmaster’s office.”
Her shoulders slumped as she glanced outside to the huge domed building looming in the distance. Usually, she’d be thrilled to go. But now?
“Fine.”
With a look of defeat she picked up her bag and slouched off towards the door, leaving a trail of purple sludge behind her. The janitors crossed themselves as she walked past.
“Sorry about the mess.”
THE DAY BRIGHTENED considerably the second she got outside. Not just because the photo-kinetics were practicing on the eastern roof, but because her friends were waiting for her.
“Hey,” she greeted them unexpectedly, surprised to see James there as well. Even Lily had ditched class to see her. Lily—who listed truancy right up there with things like arson and death.
“Day five and you’ve already been sent to the principal’s office.” Benji clapped her on the shoulder, looking proud. “I think you broke my record.”
He retracted his hand immediately, shaking off the slime as Lily shook her head.
“Shame about Ollie,” she said sarcastically, looking sorry the fight had finished before she could help. “Guess he didn’t learn any manners off in Monaco.”
“Yeah, it’s a real shame,” Jason muttered with a rather dark expression. “Between his broken arm and that shattered face, he won’t be in class anytime soon.”
Aria started nodding, then stopped just as fast.
“Broken arm?” she repeated in confusion. “I didn’t break his arm.”
Jason was suddenly distracted by something on the ground.
“At any rate—it could be worse,” Lily said helpfully. “The dean’s not here.”
The dean.
The friends shared a quick grin at the mock formality.
If it wasn’t one grandfather, it was the other. Granddad Wardell was away on business, so she’d been sent to see Granddad Carter instead. It was a toss-up as to who would be the safer bet.
“Well, wi
sh me luck.” She started traipsing across the grass. “I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
The others lifted their hands in a uniform wave but James broke rank at the last minute and streaked towards her, waves of messy hair falling into his feverish blue eyes.
“I’m sorry about that guy,” he blurted, looking determined yet uncomfortable all at the same time. “If you like, I can have a talk with him. When he gets out of the infirmary.”
Aria’s eyebrows lifted as Benji bowed his head with a twinkling smile.
There weren’t many people on the planet who needed less protection than his big sister, but that didn’t mean the kid wasn’t going to try. Even now, his feet were planted on the ground with that brazen defiance—straining upwards a little so he could look her in the eye.
The others graciously looked away as she gave him a rare smile. “Thanks, Jamie. I’ll keep that in mind.”
With a parting grin, she set off across the grass. Hoping her granddad was in a forgiving sort of mood. Hoping he was inextricably busy if that wasn’t the case...
WITH INCREASING RELUCTANCE Aria dragged one foot in front of the other, stalling as long as she could, before finally pushing open the giant double doors that led into the Oratory. Most of the kids roaming the halls of Guilder would have cut off their right leg just to get a few seconds inside, but she’d grown up there. Toddling on the training mats. Chewing on the practice dummies.
I certainly hope they clean those things...
The place was in full swing and she waved half-heartedly at some of the agents as she walked past, wishing very much she could join their training sessions instead of going further inside.
“Well, look who it is!” A pair of shifters detached from their boxing match, bleeding profusely while flashing the same cheerful smile. “What is this—day five?”
She pulled up her hood, muttering under her breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
A little further down the mats an impossibly tall man was conjuring knives, throwing them with deadly precision into a target across the room. He stopped when Aria walked into his path obliviously, straightening up with an amused smile.
“Another detention?”
Two knives went whizzing behind her.
“Don’t want to talk about it...”
At last, she reached the far wall and pushed down the secret lever—bidding farewell to the world of sunshine and passing into the maze of twisted hallways with a sigh.
Given the layout of the place, she’d often thought the Privy Council didn’t need additional security. Just leave the criminals to wander the corridors. Eventually, they’d starve. She would have been in the same boat herself, but by now she’d been down there so many times some of Benji’s and her childhood artwork was still on the walls, hanging alongside a slew of framed pictures.
She paused her walk of shame, smiling faintly up at the walls.
If there was ever an actual memory lane—this was it. It was like stepping into the past, right into her parents’ childhood. There were pictures of Rae and Devon learning how to fence while balancing on steel rods. Molly holding a dead fish and looking like she was going to throw up. Angel glaring at the camera while Gabriel laughed at something behind her back.
At the end of the row, there was one she’d never noticed before. A shot of her dad and Julian at about fifteen—posing together in a one-armed hug and grinning at the camera.
Both were dripping head to toe with green slime.
Have to remember to ask about that...
At last, she reached her destination—the office at the very end of the hall. She pulled in a deep breath and knocked quietly, chanting inside her head.
Please don’t be there, please don’t be there—
“Come in.”
—crap.
Her eyes flashed to the heavens before she stepped inside.
The office looked exactly like it always did. Family photographs framed on the desk, a giant blinking map hanging on the wall. And there was her grandfather, sitting in the middle of it.
He looked up when she opened the door then leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses with the twinkling smile he saved for whenever she was around.
“What a lovely surprise.” He waved her closer. “What brings you down here?”
She perched cautiously in the edge of a seat. “...you don’t already know?”
The smile faded slightly, tinted with a mixture of exasperation and concern. Yet another expression that seemed to make an appearance whenever she was around.
“Enlighten me.”
Her eyes lowered to the carpet. “I had some trouble with a boy in the cafeteria.”
Carter’s lips twitched, but he maintained a poker face. “Is the cafeteria still standing?”
Hard to tell whether that was a joke.
“Yes,” she said defensively. “The two of us just had a disagreement, that’s all.”
Carter nodded slowly, reading between the lines. “You punched him in the face.”
“As I said,” she replied diplomatically, “a disagreement.” She hurried on before he could speak. “Don’t you want to know why I punched him in the face?”
He set the glasses on the desk, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve heard your mother say that exact phrase...”
She allowed him a moment, but continued with sudden confidence. It would be a cold day in hell before her grandfather sided against her. Especially with something like this.
“He asked to see my ink,” she said impressively.
There was a beat of silence.
“...that’s it?”
The two of them stared across that generational divide.
“No, Granddad—he asked to see my ink.” She leaned forward in the chair, trying her best to explain. “It’s a sex thing. It means he wanted—”
“All right, all right!” He held up a hand, stopping the conversation in its tracks. It took a few seconds to forever delete the concept from his mind, then he looked up with a sudden frown. “He propositioned you like that in the middle of the cafeteria?”
She did her best not to smirk, reeling him in line by line. “Whispered it in my ear.”
His face turned violent. For a split second, she was actually afraid.
“This punch... did you put your weight behind it?”
BY THE TIME ARIA LEFT her granddad’s office, she was feeling significantly better about the day than when she’d arrived. She’d gotten to listen in on a top-secret phone call with the Prime Minister of Malta, stuffed her face with as many of Carter’s addictive peppermints as her cheeks would allow, then extracted a promise to pilot his Gulfstream before politely excusing herself.
When she finally got back to the Oratory, the day took another upward turn.
“Uncle Gabriel!”
A handsome man was standing in the corner, wrapping his hands before beginning to train. He lifted his head as she sprinted towards him, eyes sparkling with a familiar smile.
“Hey, kid.” It didn’t matter how old she got, he’d still call her kid. He caught her in a one-armed hug, looking her over with affection, before retracing her path. “Trouble in paradise?”
“I don’t want to...” The party line rose to her lips before she changed it suddenly—glancing at the training tape wrapped around his hands. “Want to spar?”
He squinted down appraisingly, lifting his hand toward the mats.
Yes!
She ripped off her sweatshirt with a beaming grin, throwing it next to the duffel bag at his feet. Of all her parents’ friends, Gabriel was the most fun to practice with. Possibly because he was the only person in the world who didn’t treat her like she was made of glass.
“You remember the kick I taught you?” he called, once they’d gotten some distance.
She nodded fervently, having practiced it every night before going to bed.
“Show me.”
For the next few hours, the two of
them engaged in a miniature battle—flipping and fighting and rolling over the mats. Gabriel hadn’t grown up the same way as the others, and he was a hard teacher. That being said, he was patient. And he had a way of explaining things in precisely the right terms so that she’d understand it best. You didn’t just train with Gabriel. You got better.
“You know,” she panted, planting both hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath, “you should really think about teaching. You’d be great at it.”
Gabriel laughed quietly, tying back his hair.
These sessions might have been gold for her, but they didn’t help him in the slightest. While she was on the verge of death, the guy hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“A teacher, huh?” He bounced slightly to stay loose, waiting for her to recover. “You could see that? Book bag and glasses. Me and Luke—eating together in the faculty lounge?”
She grinned, and swatted away his playful jab.
A few years ago, Benji’s dad had been offered a position teaching at the school. ‘The Rise of the British Empire and War in the Modern Western World.’ On paper, it sounded like a boring class—but the guy brought it to life. People never missed Luke’s lectures. Not ever.
“You could start with something easy,” she teased. “Maybe Intro to Reading...or sculpting! I could totally see you making those little ceramic pots—”
All the air whooshed from her body as she crashed into the mat.
...sort of.
Gabriel might not pull as many of his punches, but even he was careful with her. It didn’t matter how often she went flying, he’d catch her every time. She couldn’t hit the mat if she tried.
Instead of taking his outstretched hand she lay there for a minute, glaring at the fans.
“Why do you always do that?” she muttered.
He dropped his hand in surprise.
“Do what?”
“Catch me,” she accused, pushing up to her elbows. “You never let me fall.”
A strange expression flickered across his face, as if he’d had the exact same conversation not long before. He considered her a moment, then instead of helping her up he got down beside her.