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Was it because I’d tried to burn the swimming boy and destroyed school property—the ceiling—in the process? But I’d been provoked and threatened.
The school should send the bill for the repairs to Pigston.
Nat and Yelena swallowed, worry wheeling in their eyes.
Demetra flashed a snake-like smile. She’d lingered with her clique when Marie came to deliver the news, and I hadn’t had time to shoo her off.
Demetra must have thought the Academy was going to kick me out. Being expelled was the least of my concerns. If she knew what three of the demigods had promised to keep me in the Academy, she would have wanted to shoot herself in the head.
Both Héctor and Axel had demanded Paxton return to his territory in Russia, but the jerk had refused to oblige on the phone.
“I’ll wait until you finish your coffee, and then we go?” Marie asked, ready to bargain. She pulled a chair from the neighboring table and perched on its edge near me before snapping at Yelena and Nat. “You two. Go to your class.”
Yelena and Nat shot to their feet without needing to be told twice.
“Hey, don’t yell at my friends,” I warned, putting down my coffee mug. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Marie?”
“They need to go to their class,” Marie said. “I don’t want them to be late because of you.”
“We’ll save a seat for you, Mari,” Yelena said while Nat nodded in confirmation, and the two of them took off.
Marie trained her stern gaze on Demetra and her minions. No smile or kindness softened her hard face. “Get lost. Now.”
Demetra’s face turned beet red. She sent the Dominion soldier an injured look, but she dared not talk back. She stormed off, as that was the best she could do for the moment.
“We’ll make sure the rogue bitch realizes that she doesn’t belong here before the end of the term,” said Britney, Demetra’s wing woman.
I heard that she had a thing for the Demigod of Sea. He deserved all the snakes.
“Bring it on, insects,” I said.
I put down my coffee mug and stood to face Marie. “Let’s get this over with, soldier, and see if this headmistress has two heads.”
Marie snorted. “I caution you not to say that in front of Headmistress Esme Von Rouche. She won’t put up with that. She’s the most trusted consul to the god of war, even more so than the demigods.”
I grinned at her. “Don’t worry about me, sweet Marie. A least I didn’t say the magic words: three tits. And if she kicks me out, I’ll go live with Héctor in his big Manhattan suite. I can bartend somewhere to pay rent.”
Marie gawked at me. “You met the Demigod of Death already?”
“Yeah, Héctor is my new favorite,” I said, “due to his gentle nature.”
Marie now blinked hard. “The death demigod is gentle?”
“Let’s see if he stays that way.” I smiled. “I have faith he will.”
