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“That’s the problem, Darling Nightmare,” Professor Blackbird admits with a slight smirk. “You observed wrong.”
“I’m never wron…” I trail off because when I’m looking back at Kali, I realize the only thing that’s survived the burning plague of his clothes are two pieces.
Oh…
Wait…
FUCK!
My jaw drops before I move my hands in both directions to cover Asher’s and Hades’ eyes. Azrael takes his own hands and covers his face, but Blair is completely enraptured by the sight of Kali beneath her.
“K-K-Kali? You’re a GIRL?!”
That’s the only thing that can explain her small breasts, which are wrapped with black bandages to keep them as flat as possible, and a pair of feminine boy shorts.
“Just announce it to all of Nephilim at this point, Blair,” Kali grumbles. “And I was. Can’t afford transition therapy, though. That’s for rich fae and shit.”
“Ah. Oh…Um…” Blair doesn’t know what to say as she looks horrified. “O.M.G. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scream. Oh. What to do?! You need clothes! Um…” Blair looks like she’ll have a full panic attack if this continues.
I can’t help but have pity for her…and Kali.
“Professor Blackbird,” I begin and give him a look.
Please?
His smile is a genuine one as he claps his hands once. The gesture ignites a shift in all of our clothes, leaving us in a new set of uniforms that include red capes that shift to black.
“You’ve successfully survived your first trial and will regroup with the surviving groups of students,” he announces and looks over to the Notorious Worm. “Larkin, we gotta make you look less menacing, though, if you want to stick with Miss Guinevere.”
“LARSHA!” It cheers and begins to hop from one leg to another like a frog dancing with its trident in tow.
“You all have ten minutes to get sorted,” Professor Blackbird announces. “Then we’ll move to the next lesson.”
“Which is?” I want to know, just like my fellow teammates.
“Lesson number three,” Professor Blackbird begins and turns around. “Don’t trust the wicked.”
Why do I feel like we opened a can of worms?
21
LESSON THREE OF N.M.U. — DON’T TRUST THE WICKED
~OPHELIA~
“It’s like he’s doing an offering dance.”
I try not to smile as Larkin, my new Nephilim Notorious Worm pet, is dancing around me, singing some sort of chant. Now that he’s wearing a miniature boy uniform, he doesn’t look as menacing.
Maybe that’s because I’m fine with shadowed monsters with menacing eyes that replicate the swirling movement of a black hole.
He’s currently 4’5” in height, though Professor Blackbird mentioned he can grow big or small depending on how he feels. When he’s not summoning the shadows that cloak every bit of his flesh, he looks more like a bandaged doll, similar to a mummy, but with black bandages.
His hair is long, which is why Blair and I helped braid it real quick as we took a ten-minute breather. I’m not sure if that was “allowed” in the trial curriculum, but it seems Professor North and Professor Blackbird aren’t in a rush to move just yet.
Something to do with Lesson Two revolving around patience.
“Lar Lar Larshae! Lar Lar Larshae!” Larkin stops right in front of me and raises his hands. Then he lowers them and stares at me in wait, which makes me pout and turn my head to one side.
