“I’d love that.” I really meant it, too. It was funny how easy I felt with him. For some reason, it seemed perfectly fine for me to follow him around and let him show me things. I quickly spotted a rowdy group of students gathered around two booths that were closest to the stage. They were next to the wide windows that looked out over the beautiful harbor and near two French doors that were flung wide open, letting the fresh sea breeze into the establishment. There were more kids outside on the deck.
Seth led me over to the group at the two tables and several people shifted, moving so there would be a spot for us.
“Who’s this?”
Attention immediately riveted on me, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the guy sitting in the middle of the booth with his arm draped around a very beautiful brunette. I hardly noticed her as I stared into his piercing blue eyes—feeling my whole posture go rigid under his perusal—and not just because he was extremely good looking, in a sexy bad-boy type of way. His dark, chin length hair and scruffy beard growth made him look way too old to be in high school, but none of that mattered to me. What caught my interest was his blazing red aura with a black vein twisting through it, much like the snake tattoo on his arm.
Those were not good colors to get mixed up with. This guy had some serious issues that both intrigued and scared me.
“This is Kenna Mangum,” Seth said easily, obviously unaware of what I could see. “She’s new and I invited her to come and meet all of you. She doesn’t know anyone at school, yet.”
His words filtered through my subconscious as I continued to stare at this guy, noting how flecks of purple popped up, here and there, in his aura. Purple was a strong color and had several redeeming qualities—not that reds didn’t have some—but red was very dominate; and combined with the black, it put me on edge. Black was anger, hate, depression, and basically all negative emotions.
“Kenna, this is my best friend, Jett Blackstone. His parents are the ones who own this place. This is his girlfriend, Megan Cordova. This guy here is Billy Nash . . .” He continued on, naming all the people gathered around.
I didn’t hear any of it, still staring at Jett.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” a snotty voice distracted me and finally managed to knock me from my rude behavior. I glanced at the girl sitting beside Jett, taking in her sneer of disdain as she glared at me.
“Sorry.” Grasping at straws, I tried to offer an explanation. “I was just trying to remember if I’d forgotten to take my medication today.”
“Medication?” Seth asked, immediately resting a hand on my shoulder. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s my daily . . .” Rapidly searching my head for any kind of medical condition, all I could come up with was the fact that I was the daughter of a demon warlock who was a blood drinker. Blood! I could have a blood disease. “Pills for my blood thing . . . my . . . anemia.”
“You mean iron pills?” Jett drawled out, still looking relaxed as ever.
Iron pills. That’s what they’re called. Damn, I’m an idiot. “Um, yeah, those.” Thankful, when Seth slid into the booth, I quickly moved in right beside him, avoiding any more eye contact. If I were smart I’d spend the rest of the lunch hour stuffing my mouth full of food so I couldn’t speak anymore.
Taking a bite of pizza, I tried to stare anywhere but at this Jett character. I couldn’t help it, though. He was intriguing—a puzzle—a mystery I wanted to solve. I wanted to know what kind of secrets he was keeping. I’d never met anyone so . . . closed off.
Thankfully, Jett seemed to be ignoring me, choosing instead to whisper with his girlfriend, interspersing a few kisses here and there.
Get a room, I thought, wondering if everyone here was so relaxed with public displays of affection. It didn’t seem to be bothering anyone else. Maybe it was just me, but I didn’t think I should know what someone’s tongue looked like barely a minute after meeting them. Megan seemed to be enjoying whatever he was doing with it, though. Hmmm. More power to them, I guess.
“Are you the new girl who’s trying out for the cheer squad this afternoon?” a really cute, all-American looking, blonde girl asked me. I knew Seth had told me her name, but I couldn’t recall it.
“Yeah, I am. Are you on the team?” I smiled, hoping I appeared friendly.
“We all are,” she replied, gesturing to the girls present—including Ms. Diva, who was hanging on Jett’s every gesture. Wonderful. “Megan is the team captain. Since tryouts have already happened, the entire team had to give permission for you to try out. We also get to judge you, along with our coach, and a few of the faculty. It has to be a unanimous vote for you to get on.”
Well, there went my chances. I was pretty sure Megan had already made up her mind to hate me from the scowling looks she kept sending my direction. I felt like I was in the remake of a bad high school movie. She was so cliché . . . hanging onto Jett like he was her lifeline. I wanted to jump up and say, “I get it. He belongs to you.” And you can keep him, I added as an afterthought.
Instead, I responded to Blondie. “Well, then, I hope you’ll all see something you like. What was your name again? I’m sorry. I’ve met so many people today, it’s hard to remember all the names.”
“Stephanie Peyton,” she said sweetly, extending her hand across the table. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here.” I shook her hand, really meaning what I said. She seemed very easygoing and her aura was mostly a beautiful orange color, signaling to me her honesty and good heartedness was something that made others comfortable. Oranges were often social creatures, sometimes impatient and a bit quick-tempered, but didn’t linger in anger and were quick to extend forgiveness, as well. If Stephanie was anything like her color, she wasn’t one to hold grudges. I felt like she was someone I might enjoy getting to know better.
Unlike Megan, whose aura was a muddle of colors that was so muted it mostly resembled dark brown—a color I religiously tried to avoid, due to the nature of these people. Brown auras suggested deception and selfishness. They were people constantly finding fault with others, and I didn’t need any more drama in my life.
My family had enough of that to last a lifetime. I wanted . . . no, I needed this to be a good move for all of us.
“So, why don’t you tell us all a bit about yourself?” Seth suggested. “Like how you can fight.”
“You fight?” Another guy asked, glancing over at me from an adjoining table that had been moved closer from the center of the room.
“Yeah. My dad trained me, starting when I was four.”
“What kind of fighting?” another girl asked, interested.
I shrugged, not sure how to explain it. It wasn’t like I’d gone to a gym and learned a certain style. My dad had taught me all kinds of safety techniques and ways to protect myself—mostly geared to the magical side of things—like fighting off a demon hell-bent on drinking my blood. Namely him. “I’ve learned all sorts of styles from all over the world. My dad has traveled a lot.”
“That’s cool.” He turned back to his own table, before taking another bite of pizza. That’s when I noticed Jett staring at me.
“If you’re so good at fighting, how about a challenge?”
Did this guy seriously want to test me? Or was he just trying to get under my skin? “What kind of challenge?”
“I do a some fighting, myself. I say you meet me down at the ring and we have a sparing match.”
“The ring?” I asked, confused.
“Are you crazy, man?” Seth piped up. “You can’t kick a girl’s ass. It’s rude.”
Jett shrugged. “She says she can fight, so it shouldn’t be an issue.” His eyes turned back to me. “Unless you’re too scared.”
“I’m not scared. I just don’t want to hurt you,” I replied, not backing down.
“Oh ho!” Several of the guys called out. “Burn!” someone else shouted.
Jett smiled for the first time since I’
d arrived. I didn’t think it was possible, but it made him seem even hotter somehow. “It’s on then.”
“When and where?” I asked, feeling a confident bravado wash over me.
“After football practice this evening. Come to The Ring—it’s an actual fitness place. Seth knows where it is. He can get you there since he seems inclined to be your tour guide.”
“I don’t like this,” Seth practically growled.
“Why not?” Jett replied.
“Because I brought her here to make friends with everyone, not so you could beat her up!”
Standing, I gathered my leftovers. “Don’t worry, Seth. Nobody is going to beat me up.” Turning, I left the group, not even looking to see if he was following.
Chapter Four
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, salty sea air. I concentrated only on my breathing, refusing to let some jackass get me riled up on my first day of school. There was no way I was telling my dad about this. He’d package me up and have me on the next flight to the middle of nowhere. I couldn’t go back. It wasn’t an option.
No. I simply was going to have to prove myself “worthy,” it seemed.
The sound of a door closing caused me to open my eyes. Seth was standing there with an apologetic look on his face. I knew he hadn’t expected for things to go down this way.
“You don’t have to do this, you know? There’s no reason.”
“If I don’t, then Jett will always be looking down at me, and so will all his friends.”
“I would never look down on you,” he replied quietly. “Never.”
For some reason, I believed him. “It really is going to be okay. I’m confident I will win.”
“He didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
Uh oh. That didn’t sound good. “What do you mean?”
Sighing heavily, Seth glanced around before moving closer and lowering his voice. “Jett fights in underground cage matches. A lot of the kids attend them and place bets. The whole thing is very illegal.”
I smiled. “So you’re saying he’s good?”
“I’m saying he’s really good. He hasn’t lost, yet, and he’s fought guys a lot more muscular and older than he is.”
“Bigger isn’t always necessarily better.”
“True, but I feel you’re way out-matched in this case.”
Shrugging, I began walking toward his car. “I guess we will find out tonight.”
Those words must have convinced him I wasn’t going to back out, because he didn’t argue. “Well then, I guess you should at least give me your address so I can pick you up.”
Reaching around me, he opened the car door, and I started laughing. “So is this our first ‘official date,’ then? That’s what my parents are going to ask.”
“Call it whatever you want, but I know for damn sure I can show you a better time than this.”
I patted him on the arm and flashed a smile at him before sliding into the seat. “Don’t worry, Seth. You just might have the time of your life tonight.”
~~~
“Psst.”
Ignoring the sound coming from behind me, I continued to study the glossary terms that had been passed out by my history professor. I didn’t know anyone in this class, so I was pretty sure no one was talking to me.
“Psst.” The sound came again. “New girl.”
Slowly, I lifted my head and cast a glance at the teacher, who appeared to have his nose buried in some sort of thriller-ish looking novel. Casually turning, I looked behind me, finding a smiling, slightly flamboyant guy with thick, perfectly spiked dark hair. He was wearing a bright, fuchsia colored shirt with a black vest over it. A necktie hung, loosely knotted, well below his collar and his shirtsleeves were loosely rolled up to three-quarter length. From his slouched position, I could see dark jeans and flat tennis shoes completing the ensemble.
“Yes?” I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he wanted.
Leaning closer, across the top of his desk, he whispered. “Is it true you’re gonna fight Jett Blackstone at The Ring tonight?”
Seriously? How’d this guy know? “Who told you that?” I asked, curious.
Giving a small snort, he waved his hand with an air of dismissal. “Girl, the whole school is talking about it. I’d wager most will be attending.”
Something between a strangled laugh and a cry of despair escaped me, catching the attention of the teacher. Lowering his book, Mr. Parson flashed a disapproving stare in my direction and I immediately dropped my gaze back to the terms in front of me. I couldn’t afford to make teachers mad at me on my first day, too.
“Psst,” the voice came, again.
Lifting my paper, I turned sideways in the desk and continued staring at my assignment as if I was studying. “What?”
“I think you’ve got balls, girl.”
I had to fight to hold in my laughter. “Thanks. I think.”
“It was definitely a compliment.”
Smiling, I nodded, continuing to stare at the sheet I was holding.
“My name is Franco Vera, but everyone calls me Frankie.”
A quick glance at the teacher told me he was stuck back in his book. “Nice to meet you, Frankie. I’m Kenna Mangum.”
“So, who do I put my money on? The hot guy or the new girl?” His eyes positively glittered with excitement.
“I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be putting money on anyone.”
“But I am.” He glanced over me as if he were measuring me up. “He’s got a major size advantage over you.”
“Bigger doesn’t mean better.”
Grinning, he pushed my shoulder, and winked. “It does with the important things! Am I right?”
Biting at the grin on my lips, I blushed and shook my head. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh, honey.” Staring at me, he made a tsking sound. “We need to get you a man. Have you met anyone who looks promising, yet?”
Struggling not to burst out laughing, I wondered how the conversation had taken such a crazy turn. “I, um . . . well, Seth Masterson has been pretty nice to me.”
Closing his eyes, Frankie sighed, dreamily, before popping them back open to stare at me. “That is one seriously hunky piece of man-flesh. You have good taste, girlfriend. You know he’s Jett’s bestie, don’t you?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
Rubbing his hands together gleefully, he grinned. “It’s all so dreadfully juicy. I can’t wait to see how it all unfolds.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and everyone quickly began exiting the room.
“So I can count on seeing you there?” I asked him.
“Definitely.”
“Then, if you know what’s good for you, put your money on me.” Turning, I grabbed my books and stood, finding Frankie still sitting there staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied with a slight shake of his head. “Just admiring your confidence.”
I laughed. “That confidence is backed with years of training.”
“Good luck, tonight.”
“Who will you be cheering for?” I smiled.
“Why my girl, Kenna, of course. I don’t know if you can fight, but you can sure put an outfit together.” He waved his finger in a zigzag through the air over me. “Besides, everyone knows it’s ‘hos before bros’.”
“Are you volunteering to be my ho?” I couldn’t help my laughter.
“It’s a done deal, sweetheart. I’ve already decided I like you.”
“Awesome. I like you, too.” I glanced at the door. “I’ve got to go.”
“Where’s your next class? I’ll walk with you.”
“Gym.”
“Hey, me too. It’s just two doors down. We can run together if you want.”
I shrugged and followed him out of the room. “Sounds good to me.”
~~~
My blood thrummed with the beat of the music, adrenaline coursing through me as I twirled acr
oss the floor in a series of back flips before landing in my final pose. Smiling, I held my body strong and proud for several seconds before breaking my stance to the sound of applause—both from the teachers, acting as judges, and from the girls on the cheer squad. A quick glance showed me that even Megan was clapping, although it may have been a bit begrudgingly.
“Great job, Kenna,” Mrs. Nixon, the cheer advisor spoke. “If you wouldn’t mind stepping outside while the judges and the girls speak, we will call you back shortly.”
Nodding, I smiled and turned toward the door. As soon as I stepped outside, I concentrated my energies and dropped the privacy wall in my head. “Dad? Are you there?”
Immediately, the security of my father’s emotions washed over me. “I’m here. Are you ready for me to come pick you up?”
“I will be soon. I’m finished with my audition. I’m just waiting for them to deliberate.”
“How’d it go?”
“I nailed it. If they don’t put me on, it’s because someone doesn’t like me.”
“Well, then, you’ll make it for sure; because there isn’t a soul on earth that wouldn’t like you.”
I could think of a couple. “You have to say that. You’re my dad.”
“It doesn’t make it any less true.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too, Firecracker. So, if you do make it, will you need to stay for practice afterward?”
“No, they don’t have one today, since it’s the first day of school. They wanted everyone to get all their classes started and homework schedules figured out. It will start up tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a good idea. How was your first day, by the way?”
“It was . . . eventful.”
His laughter filled my head. “Not what you thought it would be?”
I shook my head and smiled. “No. I’m pretty sure I had a very romanticized version of what it would be like in my head. I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”
“All right. I’ll be on my way shortly. Good luck with your tryout.”
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