Now, however, there was a greater chance of their discovery. The sun had come up, and people would be going about their daily lives again.
As for the bombsite formerly known as my bedroom, I’d done my best to clear things up before hitting the hay. The rug had gone in the trash, and I’d probably be billed for it after I graduated… Oh, and for the lamps, the light fixture, and the crack in the bathroom mirror where a wedge of soap had been launched like a missile by a pixie.
Coffee. Must have coffee. With my hair transformed into a bird’s nest, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and took a moment to properly wake up. Even with so little sleep, I’d slipped into the nightmare again. Same room, same crowd, same glass box, same claustrophobic terror, same screwed-up pep talk from my friendly neighborhood Leviathan. But the fear hadn’t followed me into the real world the way it had yesterday. My chest had a slight vise-like clench, but I wasn’t gasping and spluttering.
I don’t paint dreams or nightmares; I paint my own reality. I’d always loved Frida Kahlo’s artwork, but her words were just as remarkable. And I had the opportunity to paint my reality instead of letting my glass box nightmare dictate my days. At the moment, I felt… buoyed up, on a fresh swell of determination. I could view the glass box as an omen or a cautionary tale, and I chose the latter. I wouldn’t be ending up in one, thank you very much.
“Play nice, pixies.” I lumbered out of bed and padded to my messy vanity. My brush had tangles of mossy pixie hair in it, which I quickly plucked out, and the mirror was covered in smudged lipstick scrawls. I could deal with that later. I had a bigger mess to wipe clean, and today would be the day I proved myself a capable hunter. Last night had only been a warm-up. And Nathan had promised me he’d give me until today, but we hadn’t set an exact time. So, it wasn’t game over just yet.
I’m coming for you all. Hide if you like, I’ll still find you. I smiled at my reflection. Sure, I still looked like I hadn’t slept in a month, but I had a glitter of vitality in my eyes that came from deep within. I needed all the vigor I could muster—I had a naughty gang of pixies to wrangle.
A knock at the door disturbed my inner monologue. “It’s open!” The pixies had broken the lock when they’d escaped last night, so that would probably get added to my ever-growing repair bill.
Genie appeared, wielding a brown paper bag and two expertly balanced coffees. “Delivery for the Queen of the Pixies.” She flashed a grin. “I got you a plain bagel with cream cheese. Figured I’d go easy on your stomach after your Purge.” Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air. “Oof, I bet that smokey smell clings to this room until you graduate.”
“Thank you!” I reached for the bag, but she swiped it back. “I opened a window, but I think I might need to get some air freshener or something, to take the edge off.”
“We can get you all the smoke cover-up you need later. No time to laze around, my friend. We’ve got half an hour before training with Hosseini kicks off, and we need every spare second to find your wily offspring.” She nodded to my fluffy PJs. “Get into your training gear, and you can wolf this down on the way.”
I grimaced. “Don’t call them my offspring.”
“Noted. I’ll go with ankle-biters.” She tapped an invisible watch on her wrist.
I gave up on the brush and pulled my dark hair into a bun. “Right, yes, got it. More haste, less chat. Give me a second.”
As she headed back into the hall and closed the door, I pulled on bottle-green workout leggings and a soft gray T-shirt, then yanked my black SDC sweatshirt over my head. It would probably draw some choice looks, but I didn’t care. If the GIs could be proud of where they came from, so could I.
Ready, in more ways than one, I grabbed my backpack and ran out to meet Genie. I felt like a new woman—if slightly bruised and battered and thoroughly exhausted. The huge welt on my elbow that had appeared after Fridgegate was the worst of my injuries—my first at the Institute, and I hadn’t even started training yet. I supposed it was best to get accustomed to pain, considering what everyone, including Victoria, had warned us about the challenges ahead. Bath salts. Remember to ask Mom for bath salts.
“Where to?” Genie handed me the brown sack, and I duly stuffed the bagel in my mouth.
“Repository.” Crumbs flew everywhere as I devoured a massive chunk. What could I say, Purges made a girl ravenous. “I think the pixies might gravitate toward the one that got put there last night.”
Genie raised her coffee cup. “Ingenious!”
“No, that’d be you.” I chuckled, tearing off another huge bite. With hunger like this, there was no room for table manners. “So, are you going to tell me what really happened with Charlotte yesterday?”
Genie pulled a sour face. “Like I said, bigots and assholes.”
“Come on, you’ve got to give me the details. I told you everything about the pixies. I know it’s not the same, but I want to know,” I insisted. “I realize I’ve been a tornado of mayhem lately, and you’ve been here the whole time, helping me through it all.
