Chapter 21: Psycho Academy : Chapter 16

The breaking period: Day 6, hour 9

Horace’s yellow eyes glowed brightly.

“It’s my business what I do with my food and not yours, human.” He spat out “human” like it was a curse word.

John’s dimples disappeared as his face hardened. “But it is my job when it’s a dead body. I’d be careful what you say next, vampyre. Or did you forget just who I am?”

Horace scowled, and John glared back.

Men were stupid.

Instead of talking shit behind each other’s backs like normal people, they talked shit to the person they were insulting. Then they had the audacity to get butt hurt when the person got pissed.

It was like when they were growing up, they were so busy trying to be all macho and strong that they never learned how to gossip effectively.

A critical life skill.

They wouldn’t survive a single day with teenage girls.

They’d be torn to shreds.

Eviscerated.

I missed Sadie and the girls.

Horace whispered, and his voice was a creepy rasp. “No, human. It seems like you’ve forgotten just what I can do.”

They were literally talking gibberish.

I banged my head harder against the table.

I can’t live like this.

The dark expression that had overtaken John’s face melted away, and he laughed as I banged my head.

My new friend 100 percent suffered from a personality disorder. It reminded me of a story in the banned books section in the fae palace—something about a nice Dr. Jekyll and a mean Mr. Hyde.

“What are you doing, Aran?” John asked with concern.

“Trying to lobotomize myself.”

“Are you sure you should be acting like a lunatic in front of your crush?” He pointedly looked across the room.

“I’m going to kill you.” I shoved at him. “I told you it’s not like that.”

John slapped my hand.

I slapped him back.

He slapped harder.

I slapped faster.

Yes—at the ripe age of twenty-four—I engaged in a slap fight with a grown man. Not my proudest moment.

“A little poke and tickle, I see,” Ms. Gola purred suggestively as her shadow fell across our shared desk.

Massive perky tits, ten times bigger than my embarrassingly small cup size, stared me straight in the face. They leaned closer like they wanted to smother me.

A decadent vanilla scent wafted off Ms. Gola’s cleavage.

I had to forcibly stop myself from asking her what the name of her perfume was. Because it smelled great.

Wait, why is the cleavage still coming closer? I winced and leaned back in my chair as far as I could.

She leaned closer.

I was 98 percent certain I was being sexually harassed.

“I can’t live like this,” I said to no one in particular.

It was official: I would never recover from Elite Academy.

Ms. Gola placed a paper on my desk and beamed down at me as she curled a lock of her shiny blonde hair around her finger. “Amazing work, Aran. I only know of one other student who can make such an insightful analysis.”

She traced her red nail over the 100 percent on my paper like she was caressing a lover.

Help?

If Ms. Gola noticed I was turning purple and gagging, she didn’t show it. She just kept smiling and twirling her hair as she leaned into my personal space.

Does she have a knot?

Someone give the woman a brush.

Ms. Gola purred, “For the rest of the assignments, I want you and Corvus to work together. You each have a rare gift, and I think it would be best if you strategized and learned from each other. I’m afraid you’re both too advanced for the rest of the class.”

Corvus?

The enchanted drugs did nothing to calm me. “No. I won’t work with Malum.”

He thinks I’m nothing but a hole.

Across the aisle, Malum leaned back with his hands behind his head and taunted, “Aw, pretty boy’s afraid of me. How pathetic.”

In my head, a monster screamed.

Pipe cracking between my teeth, I didn’t bother to respond.

“Can’t wait to get started, partner.” He chuckled, and the raspy, harsh sound matched his whiskey-and-tobacco scent.

No.

He smells like the patriarchy.

Could the universe leave me alone for five minutes?

I turned to my enemy and exploded. “Why do you want to work together so badly? I thought you wanted to torture me because you hated me. Too pampered and pretty or some bullshit like that. So make up your fucking mind!”

If he refused to work with me, Ms. Gola would listen to him.

Why wasn’t he putting a stop to it?

Horace made a harsh, breathy noise that I thought was a laugh, and John covered his mouth.

Scorpius mocked in a baby voice, “Aw, is the pampered pretty boy scared?”

I couldn’t decide who I hated more. “I wasn’t talking to you. But you probably don’t know the difference because your head is so far up Malum’s conceited flaming ass. How does it feel to be a lackey?”

Scorpius growled, and Malum exploded in flames.

Bigoted jerks.

But the corner of Orion’s lip turned up in a smile, and a weird strumming sensation rang through my chest.

Probably heartburn.

The commoner students shifted in their chairs.

Ms. Gola clapped her hands as she walked back to the front of the room, her voice upbeat and chipper like she didn’t notice the three of us were about to murder one another.

“Okay, class, for the next two hours, you’re going to write an essay on the best weapon to use against an opponent fighting with a triple-blade sword. Corvus and Aran, please work together and hand in one essay.”

The class tittered as she said our names.

Sari looked between the two of us and then fluttered her lashes aggressively.

Malum ordered softly, “Scorpius, switch seats with Egan. I need to work with my partner.”

“Try not to antagonize them,” John whispered furiously in my ear. “If you make it clear you’re not a threat to their relationship, they’ll chill out. They haze everyone at first. You just need to stop riling them up.”

Fuck.

That.

“No. Scorp, stay where you are,” I ordered. “We’re not partners. Malum misspoke.”

Red flames shot higher.

Scorpius stood up and stalked over. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Well, I’m not moving.”

John buried his face in his hands. “Why did I befriend you? Keeping you alive is going to be impossible.”

If only he knew how difficult it was for me to die.

I didn’t bother to correct him.

“You don’t want to do this, Egan,” Malum said softly as he fisted the hands that had held me down as my lungs filled with water.

Just. A. Hole.

My monster shrieked inside my head.

“No.”

Horace’s nostrils flared, and he smiled like he enjoyed the smell of violence. “New guy is growing on me.”

Of course. The guy who murders people likes me.

Malum slammed his chair back and stood up. Seven feet of flaming bronze muscles towered.

I rolled my eyes.

He could set me on fire, slam his fist into my stomach, drown me, but I was not going to take it like a little bitch.

After Mother had perished (died violently by my hand), I promised myself I’d never let another person torment me.

Sari fanned herself dramatically as she licked her lips. “It’s getting hot in here.”

She needs an intervention.

“I’m going to ruin you,” Malum whispered as he leaned closer.

“I’m already ruined.”

Malum arched his dark brow, and for a split second, his silver eyes glinted with something that didn’t look like manic hatred.

Like he had a soul.

A flaming hand shot out, grabbed me by the neck, and threw me to the ground.

Nope.

He was soulless.

An unhinged egomaniac with the body of a dark god.

Scorpius and Malum circled around me like wolves inspecting a carcass for the juiciest bits of meat.

I breathed deeply. There was only one thing left to do.

Instead of launching myself at him, I gave him the Sadie special and flipped him off with both my hands. “Suck my dick.”

The class oohed, and Horace broke out into aggressive, breathy laughter. Even Zenith and Vegar cracked smiles. John muttered something about the underworld and regrets.

Malum took a step closer, and I prepared myself for his fist.

He bent at the waist so our faces were close. “Orion’s the only man whose dick I’ll ever touch. I don’t handle trash.” He smirked. “I have standards, unlike some people.”

The class howled, and someone yelled, “Burn!”

For some ungodly reason, the wound on my back began to ache.

Why was l feeling weird?

Was I constipated?

I tried to act calm and studied my cuticles, which desperately needed a manicure and fresh gloss.

Ew. Why is there so much dirt under my nails? It was giving off sewage rat.

I realized everyone was staring at me, studying my hands with disgust, so I tried to cover them. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re not my type.”

I glanced over at Orion, who was staring at the three of us with his lips parted and pupils blown. His lashes really were stunning.

He also had nice cuticles.

Did he use oil? He’d look good with black nails. Or a deep emerald green.

I cracked my head against the ground. What the actual fuck was wrong with me?

Every time my best friend flipped people off and told them to suck her dick, it tended to end conversations.

But this situation seemed to be escalating.

I was hyperaware of the two massive fae standing on either side of me.

Faster than I could track, Malum grabbed me behind the neck and shoved me into Scorpius’s empty chair.

“Stop touching my neck,” I snarled and pulled away.

“No” was all he said.

I considered picking up the chair from beneath me and chucking it at Malum, but Ms. Gola chose that moment to pretend to be a teacher.

“Okay, that’s enough. Malum and Scorpius, please take a seat and stop posturing. Aran, please refrain from causing more problems in the future. Even though the assassin program is unique, this is still a classroom setting.”

Yep.

The woman who’d dry-humped the air was lecturing me about what was appropriate.

Was there no justice in the realms? No sense of decency?

Malum and Scorpius must have felt similarly, because they both remained standing.

The class looked back and forth between them and Ms. Gola with wide eyes.

Malum spoke slowly, each word dripping with poison. “What did you just say to us?”

Someone whispered, “Oh shit.”

Ms. Gola paled.

Flames leaped across bronze shoulders.

Orion sat next to me, and his perfectly clean nails tapped against the desk. He had nice hands. Up close, a tantalizing aroma wafted off him, rich like dark chocolate with a sweet edge.

“Don’t look at him.” Scorpius grabbed my curls and yanked my head forward. “He’s disgusted by you.”

Raspberries. That’s what he also smells like.

In my peripheral vision, Orion narrowed his eyes at Scorpius like he wanted to disagree.

My heart fluttered.

“I believe I was clear,” Ms. Gola said slowly.

Malum made a noise in his throat that was a mix between a scoff and a hiss. A “sciss.”

Scorpius’s fingers dug harder into the top of my head as he physically kept me from looking over at the stunning fae sitting inches away from me.

In my peripheral vision, chocolate eyes widened. Long lashes rested on light-golden skin. Smooth and silky.

I’d always liked silver more than gold because it complemented my blue features.

But maybe gold would look good on me?

I turned my head to the side to get a better look.

Scorpius’s fingers trembled as they pulled my hair, and he whispered, “If you try to look at my man one more time, I will snap your neck.” His words dripped with malice.

I kept my head straight.

There was a whooshing as Malum exploded with flames.

It was official.

This was worse than any fae drama.