“I agree.” Xerxes reaches over, stirring the concoction for a moment before they look at us. “When I measured him, I was very cautious, but besides thenew tattoos he’s hiding and the small scaly patches… he has scars. Not a crazy amount, but enough to concern me, so I didn’t ask. I don’t know if they’re related to the incident or some other heinous BS, but he definitely has seen some shit.”
Oriel nods, digesting that information as he adds a few ingredients to the bubbling liquid in the cauldron. He’s quiet for a moment, then he sighs. “That’s not unexpected, I suppose, but it doesn’t mean I like it. In fact, I really fucking hate it and some of the others will, too.”
“I don’t feel upset he hasn’t pried into our shit, though.” They both look at me and I shrug. “The guy is keeping his pain to himself, and his obsessive need for boundaries means he wouldn’t ask if we didn’t offer it up. I think he’s trying to be respectful, in his own way, and that’s unusual for the demon world.”
“So many things here differ from how KK was raised—both in the ‘normal’ human world and the bullshit he grew up with. It’s honestly surprising that he is adjusting without a lot of craziness. I don’t think I’d do nearly as well were it me.” Xerxes grabs a handful of herbs, tossing them into the simmering pot with a satisfied expression. “Which is why I’m also not worried about that situation. His hands are full and he’s doing the best he can with the tools he has, hmm?”
Our glitzy brother is right—Kit is definitely trying, and even his quirks have become endearing—so we can be patient, even my irascible lover.
By the timewe finish Curses & Hexes, the three of us have talked shit out like a coffee klatch, and I think it helpeda lot. I wish some of the others had been there, but given that we don’t share every class, it’s just not possible. None of us share the next session—it’s specific to our learning paths, so we part ways knowing that the guy we’re worried about is being escorted by Slash. I agree that the demi who runs the Human History class is more of a smug tool than a threat, so while I have a tiny bit of concern, it’s manageable.
My phone buzzes as I head for Complex Algorithms in the computer lab, and I pull it out to check the screen. The OG caliphate chat—without Kit—comes up immediately and I arch a brow. We don’t use this one as much as before, but I assume someone is doing so now to report to ourprince.
Prince: How was Intro, Slash?
Enforcer: Fine. Headed to his HH class now. Who will be there at the end?
Thief: Me. I’m taking KK somewhere for lunch. We won’t be at the table.
Prince: When did this get decided and why?
Thief: Calm down, man. I want to show him something to cheer him up. It’s no big deal, and it’s perfectly safe.
Enforcer: I should be the one who decides that.
Chef: No, Kit Kat should be the one who decides that.
Spy: Agreed. *high five Salem*
Prince: You two… shut up. I don’t want to manage a disaster today, O.
Thief: Cross my heart, Prince Pricklypants. No disasters. We’ll hang out, then I’ll drop him off at Demonic Languages afterwards.
Hacker: That’s another one on his own. Who’s got that?
I asked because Mondays and Wednesdays are nightmare fuel with Kit’s schedule. He’s in a ton of shit we’re not, and we don’t have free blocks to deal with it. Knowing what we do about the breadth of the conspiracy—or what we think it is—makes that even worse than before. We have no idea who Lucian hasherethat is gunning for Kit without making it known. The bullies all make their idiocy known, and we can monitor them with my trackers. Unknowns aremybiggest fear; they could be anywhere, hiding behind a disinterested look or pretend smile.
Prince: I’m waiting…
Enforcer: I have Cardio after my quick lunch at that time. I will go.
Chef: Then he has Lit with O and me, so we’ve got him from there.
Thief: Where’s dinner tonight?
Prince: Dorm unless there’s an unscheduled change of plans.
Thief: Aye, aye, Captain Crankypants!
Prince: …
With that decided, I move swiftly to the class I need to get to. It’s way below my skill set, but jumping one course was the most the comp sci professors would allow when I registered. I won’t have to focus for long on whatever we’re assigned, which means I can use the time to work on things that will actually benefit my caliphate.
Plus, it’ll please Jasper, and I like when he’s pleased—it’s good for both of us.
Once I get up the stairs to the tech floor, I head for the lab with renewed purpose. I need to program web crawlers for accounts of the rest of the ‘Apalachin’ thing the supes on the surface called that weird meeting. I want to know if the general public has gotten wind of the orc attack, if any gossip is floating around about the rest of the event, or even if people know my caliphate was there. That will be the first thing I tackle after I zip through whatever Turing has us doing.
“This is odd,” I mutter as I open the door to the lab to find averysparsely attended class. “Where the hell is everyone?”
