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I shrug. “Nature didn’t select me. I selected myself.”
That earns me a broad smile.
“Any news on my friend?”
For the briefest moment, darkness fills Axe’s gaze. He clears it so quickly, I’m not certain it wasn’t merely a shadow. “None yet. But I promise to tell you as soon as I have the first shred of an update, Dove.”
At the end of the week, Axe still has no news. And that’s when demon lessons become a welcomed distraction from the days that drag on both painfully slowly and in a blurry haze.
Food stops tasting good, sleep now comes slowly and rarely for more than a few hours. And don’t get me started on classes.
“Ms. Collins! For the last time, please show us a singularity!” Karloff is so angry his mustache twitches.
“Sorry, Karloff. I find it incredibly hard to give you what you want. As if there’s something in me that rages against every single one of your orders.”
That’s been my ticket out of proving I don’t belong here for the last week. Something I wouldn’t have learned without Axe. Cozying up to him has had the unexpected benefit of finding the perfect excuse.
But more than that, three days ago, I learned why not a single male demon has ever introduced themselves to me. Not the headmaster on my first day. Not Karloff. Not even the heirs.
What I’d taken as a lack of respect is the opposite. A male demon is never supposed to offer his name to a demoness unless she specifically asks for it.
I’m not sure why or what the significance is.
And defying Karloff? That’s part of being a demoness. No one tells her what to do, ever, because demons used to be a matriarchal society. It’s in a demoness’s DNA not to take orders from anyone. Least of all an angry, mustachioed demon on a power trip.
It comes more naturally than I expect toward Karloff, who stands in the front of the classroom, ears and neck reddening as he thinks of a retort.
Satisfied with today’s victory, I’m about to head back to my seat when a telltale ribbon of magic disturbs the air. I pause, firstly because every demon capable of blinking into the lair—except the headmaster—is already here. But also, because this tingle in the air, while certainly from an incoming portal, is far different from the demon magic I’m accustomed to feeling in here.
The strange magic snaps taut and a fat orange cat appears at my feet, winding his way between my legs.
“Chonk? What are you doing here?” I hardly ever see the demon cat outside of Ms. Greenly’s room.
He looks up at me, big yellow eyes far too intelligent for a mortal realm cat. “You should try it,” he says, that strange voice of his echoing in the lair.
“Try what?”
His mouth doesn’t move, but his eyes stay glued to mine as he whispers in my mind.Open a portal.
I back away from the strange thing.Why are you in my mind, little creature?
Because you need it, obviously. Go on, do what Karloff asks. He’s growing suspicious.
Well, Chonk, that’s a problem.
I don’t say more. Who knows if I can trust a demon cat? I certainly don’t.
Your stolen magic doesn’t work on campus for a reason. You must trust that it will work here.
I try my hardest not to stare at him like a crazy person.
“By all means, Ms. Collins, keep staring at the cat. Another excuse for you not to prove your mettle.”
Chonk turns and hops on the closest desk to stare at Karloff. “She belongs here, hornless one. I don’t make mistakes.”
Karloff’s eyes bulge to the point of comical frogishness. Ideally, I’d like to have enjoyed that longer and basked in his indignation, but my brain decides otherwise. “Well, you did make a mistake when you blinked me to the heirs first instead of the headmaster.”
The cat doesn’t bother turning around. “I don’t make mistakes.” The rest he finishes in my mind.Ms. Umbra.
