Page 115 of Demon Found

When I burst into her room, Naeve is completely still. She’s wrapped head to toe in heavy white bandages. Even her eyes are covered.No. No. No. This can’t be happening.She’s a supe, she can survive a little fire. Except that wasn’t a normal fire, not with flames that piercing shade of blue.

I sniff, angrily rubbing at my eyes, watching Naeve’s prone frame for the slightest twitch.

“Shhh. It’s all right,” a voice croaks. “Give over, Lorelei. I’m okay. It hurts like diddly-oh, but the bandages are just a precaution to prevent scarring.”

With a shriek Hewie would be proud of, I hurl myself at the bed. She’s okay. Naeve is okay. Holy shit. She lets out a yelp of pain and I leap off, patting ineffectually at her one uncovered hand instead.

“Becareful.”

I stop patting.

“I don't mean be careful of me, you silly. That explosion was meant foryou.I’m sure of it. I was supposed to arrive tomorrow, but I was too excited to get back. Lia, the hada, she was helping me in with all my stuff, she pulled our door open and the whole corridor lit up. I. . . I think she’s dead.”

Both of us sit, silent tears running down our cheeks. Lia’s forever leaving us little treats. No. That’s not right. Shewasalways leaving us treats. She’s gone. It doesn't feel real.

Chano, Farrell, and Zephyr arrive hours later, covered in char and soot. They sink wearily into the seats around the room.

“We were asked to help with the blaze. We didn’t even know you were hurt, Naeve . . .” Zephyr trails into silence.

“Fucking amateurs,” Farrell rages. “Letting everyone contaminate the damn scene. The FFB will be here for days sifting through the evidence.”

“It was Seth, wasn’t it?” I force the words out. “He wouldn’t leave it to chance to fight me in the finals, would he? He’s more sneaky than he is powerful.”

Chano sighs, scrubbing his hand over his crew cut, making his muscles ripple in his tight-assed T-shirt. “I don’t know, chica, that’s the thing. He’snotpowerful. And that blaze took a lot of magic to feed it. Either he had help. . .” Chano pauses, glaring at Farrell “. . . or it wasn’t him.”

For once Farrell doesn’t jump to the defensive, his worried gaze fixed on Naeve. “I’ll find out what the whispers are at home.”

“And in the Collectivo,” Zephyr growls. His tablet beeps, drawing his attention. He stands, shuffling on the spot. “If you’re okay, Naeve, I’m going see how Alice is doing. She’s a bit pissy that I’ve not been past yet.”

Alice, again. She’s over ten years his senior. Shemustbe breaking academy rules by having a fling with a student. It’s none of my business what he does, but he should be here for Naeve, for the allegiance. Not floating off to screw a professor.

“Really, Professor Allegra?” Chano slaps his thigh. “You’ve got a fucking screw loose, Goldilocks.”

Zephyr kicks at the end of Naeve’s bed. “It’s not like we can all date a Lorelei, is it?” He storms out of the room before any of us can respond. What the actual fuck is that about?

Welcome back to the academy, Lorelei.

Chapter Fifty-eight: Lorelei

WhiletheFaeFireBureau investigate our charred building, we’re all rehoused, scattered across campus. It’s obvious to a blind mouse it wasn’t me, but it doesn’t stop the damn rumors.

The students at Fates are bloodthirsty drama queens. Every corner I turn there’s someone hissing about how I set it all up, or how even if I didn’t, how I’m now using it to get out the ten percent. Nothing is getting me out of the damn thing. The dean’s obviously accepted a backhander. He’s not going to let a little thing like sympathy stop him from getting paid.

I peer around Chano’s opulent living space. It feels different now that I’m moving in. It’s too grand to be my home. But then, was all this stuff bought or stolen? The corner of my mouth twitches. I suppose if it was pinched, then Iamright at home . . .

At least living here for the last few weeks of term I can escape the gossips. Most students are terrified of upsetting Chano. A man who’ll take out his own secondispretty scary. Somehow that little tidbit has leaked.

I miss living with Naeve. I even miss her stupid clacking knitting needles. But it’s not like Chano and I are moving in, moving in. That would be way too quick. No, it’s because my asshole stepbrother tried to blow me up, and now I’m homeless. That’s all.

My eyes skip over the same paragraph in my textbook, again, and I sigh, running my fingers through my greasy hair. I’m ready for this to be over with. Gnawing anxiety wakes me every day, and I go to bed with my heart palpitating. It has to end soon.

Gritting my teeth, I heft my books off the table and into my bag, nudging Chano awake. He grunts, before sitting up groggily. He’s bored out of his mind, but the allegiance has a damn rota going. I’m never on my own. Not since the fire. If they’re all busy, then Chano has one of his gang tail me. If I take too long to shit, someone comes looking for me. It’s infuriating.

We make our way out into the last of the daylight, Chano yawning and stretching. The earthy scent of growing assails my nostrils. A few daffodils poke their heads above ground, petals dancing in the light breeze. Hellfire, it’s stunning. Life is super stressful, but I’m still so lucky to have all this around me. All the open space, the greenery, and my friends.

As if on cue, Naeve bumbles around the corner, flapping her hands excitedly when she spots me. Hewie is on her tail, a high-pitched squeak escaping him as they rush toward us.

“Did you hear?”

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