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It grew in intensity before it became entangled with the musty, sweet smell of money. My heart beat faster. I walked in a smooth ripple like a cat stalking its prey, slow and languid, until I reached a massive open door. I could hear murmurs from inside and saw the gray mountain sunlight filter through a soft blizzard of dust motes. The two men I’d somehow decided to seek sat back-to-back on a set of small couches placed against each other near the window. It didn’t even look like either of them knew the other was there. The aristocratic man was bent secretively over a huge tome, while the dark-skinned man who smelled like fire flipped through a magazine. No, not a magazine, I realized as I moved closer. A comic book.
“Seems a little redundant in this place, doesn’t it?”
He looked up at me slowly. I hadn’t startled him one bit. For some reason, I was simultaneously annoyed at that and aroused. Every move he made seemed to turn me on though.
“I like to see how humans view the supernatural,” he said in a voice as low and smooth as an obsidian rockslide. It sent a shiver down my spine. I cocked a hip against the arm of the couch, positioning myself to look over his shoulder.
“And how close do they get?”
He smirked. “Some of them have seen things. The origins are always amusing. Vats of nuclear waste?”
“It makes a certain kind of sense,” I argued defensively. I’d had a comic book phase once upon a time which I’d never fully left behind. “I mean, cancer is just cells growing out of control, right? So, what if they magically all grew the same way somehow, into something bigger and better?”
The man behind us choked on a laugh, turning slightly to look over at us imperiously. “Am I hearing you properly? You’re trying to make cancer out to be a good thing?”
“Well, no.” I was getting flustered, and his voice didn’t help. It shot straight between my legs like a fucking arrow and started a slow ache building. “But I didn’t think getting mugged would turn me into a superhero either. Or…super-villain, I guess?” I glanced back at the man with the short black hair. “I don’t know, how are we classified?”
His midnight eyes sparked with a heavy sort of humor. “Depends on who you ask. I’m Xero.”
He stuck out his hand. I hesitated for a brief moment—not because I didn’t want to shake it, but because I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to shake it. If I touched his skin, would I ever be able to stop? But I took it anyway, grasping his large, warm hand in mine. Before I knew what was happening, I was sliding off my perch on the arm of the couch to settle next to him, our hands still clasped. I watched those honey flecks spin in his dark eyes. The closer I came, the more colors I saw. Reds and ochers and sparks of gold, all ringed in a dark brown that was almost black. How could I not have noticed before
?
“Piper,” I breathed.
“And I’m Kingston,” the aristocratic voice behind us said. A hand as pale as Xero’s was dark slid between us, and I took it. My attention was suddenly forcibly drawn to the second man. His hair looked so soft, inhumanly soft, and perfectly styled. I wondered if that was part of his new fallen magic, or if he just had very expensive tastes. As I turned toward him, my other hand drifted unconsciously toward Xero’s thigh, caressing the fabric of his pants and the thick bands of thigh muscle beneath it.
“You’re new,” Xero said. He sounded gentle, almost apologetic. “How do you like it here so far?”
Oh, shit! What the fuck am I doing?
I snatched my roaming hands away from both men and pressed my palms together. Then I shoved my joined hands between my thighs, clamping down hard to hold them still.
Can’t go around molesting the students, Pipes. Get it together.
“Like it?” I cleared my throat, hoping my struggle to gather my thoughts wasn’t as insanely obvious as it felt. “Well, I mean, I’ve always wanted to go to a castle, but this is more like school than an actual castle and more like a castle than an actual school, and I don’t think my credits from Seattle U would transfer anyway, and I really hope I’m not going to have to do my whole freshman year all over again—”
I broke off, biting my lip hard. I was babbling.
How could I not? Every breath they exhaled made me want to grab them and kiss them, one after another, both together. Not just kiss, either. For the first time in my life, I was envisioning myself in a naked tangle of bodies, writhing between them. My breath came quickly no matter how hard I tried to slow it down.
“So, um… are these all the students?”
Kingston shook his regal head. “The third-years are all out doing work-study with the Custodians.”
I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “What? With the janitors?”
Xero laughed, a sound that settled in my chest and made my heart feel like it was going to explode. “Not that kind of custodian. They do what we’re here to learn how to do. They keep the human world free—or as free as possible—of the fallen.”
“They’re assholes,” Kingston said coldly. “They pick people up no matter what they’re doing or how they happened to become fallen in the first place and stick them in here. Doesn’t matter how important that person might be to the human world, either. Who were you, before?”
He was bitter. Even if his words hadn’t given it away, the taste would have. I twisted my mouth. “Just a regular student. Studying social work.”
Kingston looked appalled. “For God’s sake, why?”
I shrugged. “Something wrong with helping people?”
“No, no, of course not,” he said quickly. “It’s just… do you know how much social workers make? Nobody could live on that!”
