by Lucy Auburn
“What’s wrong?”
I don’t have the words right away. The others are staring at me too, waiting by the side of the bed. After so much time away from them I feel this distance between us. It’s strange and unnatural, and I want more than anything to close it. I know that if I want to be close to them again I’ll have to tell them everything, including my fears, but it’s so hard.
Because as much as I hate to admit it, when the demons were under Meyer’s spell they weren’t the four guys I care about anymore. They were four tools being bent to his will, serving his whims, and the coldness in their eyes is hard to forget.
It’s just as hard to tell them the truth.
“It was... frightening to face versions of you that obeyed Meyer’s command.” I find myself looking up into Mateo’s eyes most of all. “He almost took everything from me, but when I think about it... about Lana’s heart being taken from her chest, about coming so close to losing my memories, it’s not his face I see.”
Ezra fills in the blank. “You see our faces. Doing terrible things to you. Killing your classmate.” He swallows, face carefully blank, his guilt visible beneath the surface. “You see us as monsters now, just like you did that night we met and you ran away.”
My face flushes at the words put out there so bluntly. “I don’t want to feel this way. It’s just hard to forget. You were so... different.”
Sebastian’s voice is soft, but bitter. “We were being used. Enslaved. That wasn’t us, Dani. Not the real us. When a Grim holds us captive like that, everything that makes us different disappears.”
“I know that.” Taking his hand, I squeeze his palm, try to make the heartbreak disappear. And I meet each of their eyes as I say, “I know it wasn’t your fault, and I know it wasn’t really you. I want to move on and forget, to go back to the way things used to be. Maybe the best way to do that is just keep trying.”
“Trying what?”
I decide it’s time to show, not tell.
Grabbing Sebastian's hand, I pull him towards me. I press my lips against his. Slipping my fingers beneath his shirt, I peel it off, enjoying the smoothly muscled planes that ripple beneath. Pleasure sparks in my center as his hand curves around the back of my neck and pulls me towards him.
When I've tasted him for a while—not enough, never enough, but for several moments–I pull away just a little, grab Ezra's wrist, and tug him forward. His green eyes look down at me in naked arousal as I grab the waistband of his pants and push his shirt up enough to expose a strip of tanned skin. Mouth wet, I press my lips against his hipbone, trailing towards his center and then down until I feel his arousal through layers of fabric.
"Oh," Ezra says, "that's what you meant by 'trying.'"
Mateo quips, "Practice makes perfect."
Exactly. And I intend to practice being intimate with them until all the good, toe-curling memories replace the bad ones. When I close my eyes and see their faces, I want to see them like this: pupils blown wide with arousal, hands touching me softly, and lips freshly kissed.
Also, I wouldn't mind seeing them in between my thighs.
One by one, I go around the room and kiss them deeply, passionately, like we've got all the time in the world—which we finally do. There's Mateo's skilled lips, Lynx's hungry desire, Sebastian's little nips that combine pleasure with pain, and Ezra's confident, take-no-charge mouth. Piece by piece, clothing comes off: my shirt, Ezra's pants, Lynx's belt and shirt, Sebastian's clothes down to his underwear, Mateo's everything—with a side of a grenade belt being casually tossed onto the bathroom ground, and all of us wincing even though it doesn't explode.
I put my lips on their bodies. Taste their skin on the tip of my tongue. Feel their hands, gentle and curving; their fingers, skilled at giving pleasure. Sebastian's touch dips between my thighs as Lynx's hands pull down my skirt. Mateo's mouth settles on my neck as Ezra's hand urges me to palm and stroke his hardened length.
Soon, we're on the bed, tasting and touching, gasping and groaning.
I don't know if it's enough to make me forget what it was like to see them in another, harsher way.
But it's damned sure a start.
Chapter 14
Heading towards the dining hall on the lower floor, I realize that there’s something vital I forgot about when we locked up Meyer.
The moment his spells faded from campus, the students didn’t just come out from under being spelled to believe and trust him. They ceased to believe and trust Grims, too.
I’d thought, as the weeks went by, that they were warming up to me. That they had stopped shooting distrustful, curious, and wary stares my way because they’d gotten to know me. All those classes together, so many combat drills on the weekend, me summoning demons for them to practice fighting—it really felt like things were coming together, changing even.
For all I know it was just his spell. Every single bit of it. Everything except, hopefully, my friendship with Petra, Liam, Olivia, and Sam.
Some of it has to be real. Doesn’t it?
I stop in front of the double doors to the dining hall, hesitating. Something about walking in after everything and pretending like things are normal seems... strange. Especially when I know the headmaster has had to make multiple announcements about Meyer’s enchantment, his disappearance, and now his re-capture. It feels like I have to do something big to show them all who I am now, and find out once and for all if they’ll ever truly accept me for me.
After thinking for a moment, I close my eyes, reach deep inside, and find the bond. It’s easy enough to pull on it until their souls are here, then pull harder and bring their bodies along with them. So easy, in fact, I wonder how I ever thought the bond was wrong, when really it was Meyer who was wrong all along.
“That was fast,” Mateo quips from behind me. “Want another round?”
“No.” I shake my head, glancing over my shoulder at the four of them. “I want to introduce you to, well, everyone.”
And, before I can think better of it, I push through the double doors and enter the dining hall with four murderous demons at my back.
I feel eyes on me from tables all over the hall, which is still fairly packed even this late in the morning, and it’s all I can take not to turn around and run back.
I’ve never shown them all of me before. All of me, I’m realizing now, includes the demons.
“No turning back now,” Ezra says gamely, putting his hand on the small of my back and urging me forward. “Here I thought we were going to get to enjoy the benefit of invisibility for just a little bit longer.”
“I like it,” Sebastian says, as one of the students shies away from him in wide-eyed shock. “Give them something to talk about.”
Lynx, of course, asks hopefully, “Does this mean we can go into the library?”
“Nerd.” Mateo’s voice has no heat in it. “They sure are staring. This must be what famous people feel like.”
Sebastian snorts. “You’re an idiot.”
“Hush,” I tell them, before the bickering can get any worse. “They’re not even saying anything. Just... staring. I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”
Stopping in the middle of the dining room, I look around me for a friendly face, suddenly feeling like I’m floundering in deep water without a flotation device. This seemed like a good idea fifteen seconds ago, but it’s starting to feel more like I’ve opted to become the school’s next pariah.
Until one of the students at the far table stands up, looks right at us, and claps.
I blink, feeling a little strange and foolish. But suddenly four other students start to clap too, and then a handful of others. Then a few are yelling, calling out, “Go Black Phoenix!” and “Fuck that Grim!” One of the guys nears us starts pumping his fist and hollering, and another table starts to stomp to the rhythm.
Then I spot Sam at one of the tables, grinning and shouting my name. Olivia is here too, sitting next to him looking pale and weak, but smiling wide. Al
ive. Recovering.
“They must’ve heard about what you did,” Lynx says, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You saved this school, you know.”
“It wouldn’t have been in danger if it weren’t for me,” I point out, pitching my voice low beneath the growing sound of the crowd. “Towers only ever brought Meyer here for me.”
Ezra says, “He would’ve found another way in. And he’s been put behind bars now—permanently stopped. That counts for something.”
I decide he’s right, and give the crowd a little wave. They quiet down, but I feel their eyes on me as I head towards the cereal bar, suddenly aware of the fact that I’ve brought the guys with me to breakfast without a real plan.
“Do demons even eat cereal?”
“No,” Sebastian deadpans, “we only eat raw meat. Still-living is the best. I like to eat fingers and toes.”
“I was just curious. It’s not like there’s food in that nowhere place you go to... is there? I’ve never been.”
Lynx nudges me with his elbow. “Just get your cereal and sit with your friends. We’ll be fine. A side affect of death is a lack of an appetite.”
I spot Mateo over by one of the tables, showing his sidearm to an upperclassman I recognize as one of Kade’s favorites, no doubt a second away from showing off a grenade. It’s strange, seeing them interact with other people—some selfish part of me wants to make them incorporeal and have them all to myself—but if they really are going to be with me in the long-term, we’ll have to make this work.
“I guess you guys will be getting student IDs,” I joke as I fill up multiple bowls with cereal and grab a spot next to Olivia, the guys trailing behind me sans Mateo. “You should all switch to the academy-branded blazers.”
Sebastian gives me a look so cold and brutal it makes goosebumps rise on my arms. “I’d rather drink hemlock tea.”
“Disembowel me,” Ezra agrees. “I’m not one for branding.”
“I dunno.” Good-natured, Lynx shrugs. “If it gets me into the library, I’m game. Put a phoenix on my ass for all I care. I’ll do it.”
Sam glances over at me from across Olivia’s tray of food. “Is this what you’ve been listening to all this time?”
“Well, except for after Meyer broke our bond, but... yeah, pretty much. My first three weeks here it was nonstop chatter.”
“Oh my god.” He and Olivia both give me sympathetic looks. “No wonder your grades are so bad.”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.
“Don’t blame me for that,” Lynx grumbles. “I tried to help her concentrate on the lectures.”
Help, strut around shirtless, no difference really.
“Well, it must have been distracting.” Olivia shakes her head. “I couldn’t have done it.”
“And to think, this whole world was new to you,” Sam adds. “You’re strong to have gotten this far.”
“Tell me that again after graduation,” I joke, blanching at the thought of how many semesters I have left to survive—academically and literally. As I pour milk into my bowls, I feel distinctly like someone is reading over my shoulder. “Guys, stop hovering. Either sit down or go back to that nowhere place. Or find someone to talk to like Mateo.”
Ezra points to the chairs. “I want one.”
The other students at the table scoot down a few spots, and soon enough there’s room for the demons. We add one more chair when Mateo returns from his spontaneous explosives-centered chat, a broad smile on his face. “He taught me something new. New Year’s Day is gonna be so fun this year. You have no idea.”
Once he joins us, sharing his big, frighteningly foolish concepts for homemade fireworks with Sam and Olivia, something starts to settle inside me.
Everything is falling into place.
My home is really home now—for all of us, which means all of me.
Now all I have to do is survive finals.
Chapter 15
Tuesday 2:00 PM: Pixie Resistance Final
The trick to ignoring a pixie’s song is to distract yourself when the pixie is singing. Their voices are capable of hypnotizing phoenix just like siren demons, but unlike sirens they’re not pitched exactly to the type of phoenix, and they’re not as strong.
Pixies, unlike sirens, have to breathe.
It’s in those moments of pause, the breath between refrains, that Shimmer has taught us to break free of her song’s hypnotic effect.
After encountering the demon-masked siren weeks ago, I can appreciate how much easier—and less depressing—my pixie teacher’s song is. The sound of her singing voice may lull me if I’m not careful, but it doesn’t make me feel useless or unwanted like the siren did.
Which begs the question, how useful is this class without the real deal here? But it’s better than nothing. Hopefully the other phoenix who are taking this final with me will never need to resist a siren’s song, especially now that Meyer is behind bars.
“Alright, class.” Reaching over, our pixie teacher Shimmer turns off the bluetooth speakers that, for the first fifteen minutes of the final, played the sound of her voice. “You’ve done well so far, but this was just a warmup recording. The rest of the final will involve resisting the actual sound of my voice—a far harder challenge.”
As always, I appreciate Shimmer’s short stature, but find myself unnerved by the flash of her sharp teeth and glimmer to her unnaturally smooth skin. It's hard not to lean away from her as she moves around the room. I’m pretty sure half the effect of her song is due to whatever pheromones she puts out into the air that draw eyes to her; with their unusual shimmering skin and peculiar scent, pixies are known for their ability to swindle humans out of half their possessions in the space of a few heartbeats.
Of course, humans who meet them don’t see the skin, or even the pointed teeth. They just know that they’re drawn to them and want to give them everything. More than one man has sat down in a hotel bar with a full wallet, only to stumble out a few hours later, completely broke. All because of the unusually short woman who sat next to him and lulled him out of his wits with the sound of her voice.
As Shimmer starts singing, I feel the pull towards her song as always. But with the help of all the thoughts burdening my head, as well as the bad memories of the last few days, I’m able to resist.
Thinking about Lana’s heart being yanked right out of her chest, the warm feeling of it beating in my palms, is more than enough to bring my mind back to the present and resist her draw.
Eyes wide open, I look around me at the other phoenix students in class. Lily, the kind girl with the unusual ability to heal small wounds on others, is completely free of the song; she meets my gaze with her soft brown eyes and winks. So is redhead Bernard, whose freckles turn dark whenever he blushes.
But the others are having trouble with the song, especially as Shimmer’s voice crescendoes. Jack, the sarcastic kid with the long white scar on one side of his face, has his eyes half-closed and is listing forward, drawn to dream while waking by the sound of Shimmer’s voice. And Lexandria, the new kid who came in halfway through the semester, looks like she might snore any second. Her head is bowed so far forward that her wavy blonde hair is skimming the ground in front of her.
Lulling you out of your wits is one part of pixie song; the other part, which Shimmer hasn’t put us through yet, is ordering you to do what she wills. She says that it’s the sort of thing that only works one-on-one, and she’ll be challenging us more next semester.
Needless to say I don’t look forward to next semester. This one has been more than enough for me.
Although at least I’m good at this particular final. When Shimmer finishes her half-an-hour long song, she looks around at all of us and declares, “Dani is the only one here who didn’t lose her self-control for a single moment. The rest of you should look to her for inspiration.”
For the second time today I find myself the center of far more attention than I’m used to getting. Jack, the kid with the sca
r, looks especially peeved at my success.
“She’s a Black Phoenix,” he points out. “Pixie and siren song doesn’t even work on her the same way. I bet you’d see something totally different if the right refrain were used on her.”
“You’re exactly right, Jack.” I admire Shimmer’s commitment to not punching her students in the face, even the obnoxious ones who deserve it. “Siren song does have a different effect on different subspecies of phoenix, especially a very rare type like a Black Phoenix. Thankfully, with a little research and help from a, uh, colleague... I was able to record a type of siren song used specifically on Black Phoenix, and I’ve brought headphones so that Dani can listen to a song best suited for her.”
Based on the awkward way she trailed off, I can guess that the colleague in question was Meyer. How typical of him. No doubt he summoned the siren himself and made her sing that song just to record it. Too bad for him that he didn’t have it to use on me the other night, and wasn’t able to summon a siren in addition to my quartet. It might’ve been just what he needed to defeat me.
Shaking off thoughts of him, I accept the headphones from Shimmer and reluctantly put them on. I never want to feel again what I felt that night the demon-masked Grim nearly enslaved me, but I can’t exactly say no to this.
“Don’t worry too much about this last portion of the test,” Shimmer tells all of us, her strangely-colored eyes landing on me in particular. “Any resistance to the siren song will be considered bonus points more than anything. You’re not expected to be able to completely resist the demonic spell of a siren at this time, even a recording of one’s song. But rest assured, that skill will come in time.”
I hope that it will, because I sure as shit don’t want to feel like jumping off a cliff every time I hear a demon sing. I save that for karaoke night when Sam gets the mic.