A fireball whizzed at my head.
“Teehee!” He pointed at it and it changed, turning it into a ball of cotton candy.
“Oh, sweet, I love this stuff,” I gushed. Capturing the ball, I ripped off a chunk, shared it with my new imp friend, and offered some to Tristan. “Here you go.”
The wolf was still so stupefied, all he could do was stare at me as I popped a piece in his open mouth.
Together we crossed the rest of the distance while the imp turned magical attacks into confetti and candy, and cut short my classmates’ physical attacks with Jell-O vats, nets, pies, and in the case of the pack of alpha wolves that charged us—a whole mess of banana peels that had them slipping, sliding, and colliding with each other.
We stepped over the finish line and I tossed a wink at the imp before turning to Erlik, and tossing him one too. “How’s that for losing, sir?”
Erlik’s brow shot up to his hairline. Rage stole across his face, ripping a snarl from his throat—but before his shock turned to rage, I could’ve sworn for a split second... he smirked.
“This is bullshit!” Ravenscar peeled himself up out of the dirt and fixed a glare on me so incensed, it made me take a step back. “First, a hellhound, and now this filthy diseased wart tames an imp? This is a trick! A lie! Something you demon rats cooked up to humiliate your betters!”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t talk to me,” he barked—that beautiful, radiant face twisted into something that wasstillirritatingly beautiful even with hate etched all over it. Even his name, Iarla, which I’d finally heard that day, was pretty. “Did I give you permission to speak in my presence, you disgusting shitfuck of a worthless parasite. A little cunt-sucking worm like you should’ve been stepped on when you crossed the gates, eaten, and then shat back out where they found you!”
Okay, now I was mad.
“What the hell is your problem, man!” I roared back. “You lose one little race and start tantrumming like a five-year-old— Oh no, wait, not even a child would behave like you!”
“Hey!” All of a sudden, all of Ravenscar’s fae cronies were at his side. “Don’t you dare address Prince Iarla in that tone! How he behaves isn’t for the likes of you to comment on.”
The fae always dressed like palace courtesans, and that day was no different. Ravenscar had opted for gorgeous silk robes spun with ivory and cornflower-blue thread. His hair was pulled back and tied into a simple ponytail, but on him, he looked like he just got out of the hairdresser’s. That he was covered in dirt and his hair was a mess made no difference, this was the most beautiful asshole who ever yelled at me over dumb shit. And as a former waitress, quite a lot of people have yelled at me over dumb shit.
But if I expected anyone else, or even the flipping instructor, to back up that this was all ridiculous—I was sorely disappointed.
The wolves, demons, vampires, and fae were all gathering around—albeit in separate, distinct groups. Even Ronin had woken up from his nap and was watching us, but the same could not be said for Erlik. The instructor was preoccupied with something stuck in his hoof, and he wasn’t paying this brewing fight any attention at all.
“Yeah, something’s not right,” a furry-faced demon said. “First, he cheats his way through the entrance trials by compulsing a hellhound, and now he’s using the same tricks on an imp.”
“Why’d that thing go after literally every single one of us except you?” the blond alpha demanded. “Why were you egging it on like that? Was it under your control from the fucking beginning?”
“Rigged,” one of the vampires confirmed.
“And why’d you give Tristan a pass?” The blond werewolf guy was getting louder and angrier. “I heard No-Name’s been slumming it in the demon wing! What happened, Tristan? You failed your people, so now you’re sucking the dick of any demon who’ll give you a free ride through the academy! You think that’s going to get you back into the pack?”
Heat flared in my cheeks. “That’s not—!”
“You’re going to want to watch your mouth, Lyall,” Tristan dropped. “It’s a poor leader who blames a loss on anyone but himself.”
Lyall did not like that, if his dangerously purpling cheeks were anything to go by. “What the fuck did you just—?!”
“Same goes for you, fly boy.” Tristan turned on Iarla. “You got caught in your own trap and ended up pinned like a fly stuck in shit. That’s your own damn fault, so back off Charlie.”
Iarla sneered at Tristan just as hard as me, but for some reason, he didn’t tell him off for addressing him. “What the fuck is a Charlie?” he gritted. “If you’re talking about that pox-ridden thing, then you should pick another lost cause, legend boy. Because I’m not the only one who knows he’s a brother-fucking cheater.”
“That’s right,” the others chimed in. “He’s been cheating from the start.”
My eyes bugged. “But I— I don’t even have a brother!”Wait, that’s not the point.“The point is that I didn’t cheat! You all saw me!” I pointed at the little creature nonchalantly eating cotton candy on my shoulder. “All I did was be kind to him.”
Confused looks passed among the separate groups. “He did what?”
“Kee-i-nnd?” someone repeated. “Is that some kind of magic?”
“Kind?” Iarla spat back. “What the fuck does that even mean? Stop fucking making up words and tell us how you’re cheating!”
