He continues to stare as I pick up his sheet, my lips pulling into a grin as I note his three electives. “Advanced Combat and Warfare, Terraforming, and Enhanced First Aid? I think you’re my favorite teammate, Dane.” I check off the same boxes on my sheet, grinning at the stunned look on his face.
“Excuse me, he’s your favorite? What about me?” Rory exclaims, and his eyes narrow on me playfully.
“How did you know?” Dane asks, drawing my attention back to him.
My head tilts to the side as I pull my braid out and work on redoing it. “How did I know what?”
“That I can influence emotions.”
I watch him for a moment, noticing his shoulders have tensed, almost as if he’s preparing for an attack of some kind.
“It seems Master Dane is not used to people calling him out on his ability, Mistress. Having such a power must be difficult. People don’t take kindly to being influenced,” Lore says.
Leaning back, I mull through my thoughts, wondering how much I should share and keep to myself. “I was thinking about which deity would choose someone like you as their child,” I say. “And then I remembered that Hera was able to influence people’s emotions. She was also able to read them and pass them on to others, and in a way, it’s a form of communication. Hard to master, but entirely possible. It was the only explanation…”
I wrap my tie around the end of my braid before patting his shoulder. “But don’t worry, it wasn’t until you sensed my emotions and tried to help that I put the pieces together. It’s a pretty handy ability, Dane. It’s like having my own personal Xanax on hand.” I laugh, the sound dying off as I cough, clearing my throat. The guys remain silent. “Or not.”
“I think you should probably keep your observations to yourself for a little while, Mistress. There are a number of things these boys are not ready to share.” Lore hops onto my hand, her claws scratching at the red leather of my jacket sleeve. “Maybe you should share a secret in return?”
“Yeah, you may be right…” I mutter.
Sighing, I shrug off my jacket and rest it on my lap, my scarred body on full display. My eyes move over the raised, white lines scattered randomly along my arms, and I can only imagine what it looks like from the outside, to people who have never seen them before. After ten years at the Academy of the Dark, I’m surprised I don’t have more. To defeat evil, you have to be evil. There are no half-assed attempts for the children of Darkness.
I hold out my arm and grit my teeth as Lore hops back on. Her claws dig into my skin so hard that pebbles of blood well up.
“What the fuck, Serena!” Declan barks. His hand shoots out to knock Lore off me, but I swat him away as black, gold, and green light bursts from her, and her form sinks into my skin slowly and painfully.
“We seriously have to work on this, Lore,” I mutter as her owl tattoo forms on my arm, and Lore disappears inside it. “Coming out is so much better than going in.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress. We shall work on this. But at least you didn’t faint this time,” she sings happily.
I snort as the last colorful rays sink into my arm. “You and I have a much different standard of progress, Lore.”
“That,” Rory begins, his hazel eyes widening as they flick between my tattoo and me, “was the coolest… and most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen.”
The guys nod in unison, and my lips twitch as I resist every urge to smirk. “You think that’s disturbing? You should see what happens during my moon cycle. The Earth opens up when I’m in pain.”
A laugh escapes my lips as they rear back. “I’m kidding,” I roll my eyes as I push from my seat, holding my jacket in my hands. “I just like to curse people.” I cackle as I walk away.
Lore sighs. “You shouldn’t joke about things like that.”
“Is she being serious?” Rory asks, and the worry laced in his voice brings joy to my dark little heart.
Chapter 5
I turn to the mirror with my shirt in my hands. My healing scars shine, pink and tender. The rest sit raised and white. The sun catches my skin, highlighting the shadows where my bones protrude, sharp and angular, at my ribs and collar bone. I turn away and pull my shirt on. The stiff, white fabric rubs against my back where another secret lies, and I button it up slowly before I turn back to the mirror.
“How am I meant to fight in this?” I tug at my plaid skirt in front of my bedroom mirror.
“Maybe you could ask for a longer one? Something armored, perhaps?” Lore suggests from her perch on top of the mirror. I hum, not hating the suggestion. It would look pretty badass.
“Maybe I can ask the brownie to do it? Do they sew?” I ask as I tug on my skirt again, willing it to be just an inch or two longer where it sits just above my knees.
“I do not know. Would you mind if I spent the day in the library?” Her voice picks up at the prospect of scouring through the dusty tomes, and I shrug, taking my blazer from my vanity and pulling it on.
“Go for it.” I sling my bag over my shoulders next and immediately want to hurl. “I look like a Light student.”
A snicker comes through my open bedroom door, and I look past my reflection to see Declan stood in the hallway. “You’re supposed to,” he says. His eyes trail over my
