“That’s more than we usually get, so good on you.”
I roll my eyes at Salem as we get into the elevator. “Thanks. Very confident praise there, Stryker.”
“You can’t be mad that we are basing our concerns oncenturiesof repeated patterns, Jasper.” Zavvie looks up at me, his tails swishing as he gives me a small smile. “No one is accusing you of bad intent as much as bad habits that were drilled into you by your asshole dad.”
“That's why we put up with it.” Salem reaches into his bag and hands me the bar with my ribbon color. “Here, have a snack and, like, chill. It always helps.”
He’s always got us covered that way, and I don’t think I tell him enough how useful that is.
“Thanks, Salem,” I mumble as I unwrap the snack. “You’re good at keeping us fed.”
“Holy fuck, an acknowledgment! There we go, Prince Pricklypants!”
I sneer at him and then take a bite of the treat, chewing before I respond. “I’ll still kick your ass.”
“Of course you will,” Zav murmurs as his cheeks heat. “And some of us will enjoy it.”
Damn his fucking afternoon classes—now I’m hornyandI’m on my own.
Walkingacross the campus to the dorm is more nerve-wracking than I expected. I don’t get why I’m so nervous, but I suppose it’s because Zav and Salem were so worried I’d be an ass. They weren’t being assholes; I know—but my own internal conflict is making it hard not to be on edge. My eyes sweep over the crowds moving through the quad, watching for threats as usual, but also checking for unusual behavior. Having someone from my father’s court here is amping my distrust, which isn’t helping the spiky anxiety over exposing myself to possible betrayal last night.
I guess they weren’t wrong to speak up, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.
Sighing in irritation, my tail flicks as I stalk towards Canto IV. Perhaps I should find something specific to do so I don’t fuckthis up. I can’t ask Kit to go work on physical training on the field; he’s been working on shifting for hours and will be exhausted. We can’t go to theTriclinium; I ate earlier, and Slash likely made him eat the moment they got back to the dorm to refill his energy. I growl as I head up the steps, and it causes the crowds to part around me like magic.
“Move,” I snarl as I enter the building. Demons scatter, and I stomp over to the elevator, glaring until the other people waiting move away so I’m alone when the doors close. By the time I get to our floor, I’ve gone through every idea, and I’m fresh out. I have no idea what I’m going to do to make certain that I don’t screw up the truce without meaning to.
Pausing at the door to the shrimp’s room, I run my hand through my hair. I pace back and forth for a moment, ignoring the keypad as I mutter to myself more. I’m never this insane, and there’s no actual explanation for why agreeing to let the guy inch closer to me is making me a goddamn psycho.
The door opens and I whirl around, my eyes wide as Kit peeps out. I scowl at him, growling low. “You aren’t supposed to open the door for anyone who doesn’t have a code!”
His brows raise as he tilts his head in confusion. “But you have a code, Jasper.”
“I didn’tuseit, did I?”
Rolling his eyes, he leans against the doorframe. “I used the damn peephole. We heard the elevator ding when you got up to the floor.”
That’s a pretty good excuse, but lots of demons can convincinglyappearto be someone else.
“Do you know how many demons—much less those with hybrid magic or shifting powers—could pull off a convincing facsimile of one of us? Hint: it’s a lot.”
The shrimp sucks in an annoyed breath as he stares at me. “But they would have set off the sensors that X and Annie put in, and you didn’t.”
“There are those who could disarm them. It’s impossible to know what anyone is hiding here. Think about the things that we’re hiding from everyone.” I frown, stepping closer as I look down at him. “Shrimp, we’re all worried about keeping you safe—at least until you can reliably defend yourself. You can’t blame us for that; human bodies are so fuckingfragile.”
He ducks his head, muttering, “I know that, and it’s really…nice. I’m trying not to put myself in danger, but also hate being the weak link. I did a good job at practice, but I’m nowherenearwhere I need to be. It’s demoralizing, even when Slash tells me I’m doing well.”
I press my lips together, suppressing the urge to laugh. My best friendnevercompliments people during training, no matterhowfucking well they perform. I don’t think the kid has a clue how incredibly weird hearing that is. The dude always acts likehisdrill sergeant father, almost down to the insults he throws out when you fail.
“What? I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help feeling like a failure.”
Coughing as I rub the back of my neck, I gather myself before I respond. “It’s not stupid, and if Slash said you’re doing well, I guarantee you are. He doesn’t hand out praise often.”
“Really? He definitely does a good job of motivating me without scaring me,” Kit says as he finally meets my eyes again. “Actually, he’s probably the best teacher I’ve ever had. I haven’t told him that; he’d be uncomfortable, I think. But it’s true because he’s patient and works hard to keep me from sinking into negative shit.”
I need to see this, but I don’t think the shrimp would like it if I had Zavvie plant cameras in the gym—damn this conscientious behavior thing.
“Well, tell him.” Kit looks skeptical, but I shake my head. “No, you should. I’d bet no one ever has. It’s just not how things are done in royal circles, and none of us has ever been great at expressing emotions because of our childhoods. I’m not the only one who struggles with it, just the slowest to adjust.”
