Page 16 of Demon Found

Knowledge is power though.

“Eh. Naeve? What was that about?”

She looks at me blankly.

“Belinda, she called you a radical. And you obviously . . .” I pause, blustering for the right words. “You obviously keep to yourself. What’s the deal?”

“Long story.”

“Still got an hour before class.”

“Look who got all share-y now,” she grumbles before throwing herself into a chair and picking absently at the corner of her desk. “Fine. You’ll hear it from someone else soon enough anyway. It’s not me that’s a radical. It’s my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Leeroy Haliai, but he joined a cult and changed his name. He’s now Leeroy Outis.”

I pause, half out of my hoodie, and gape at her. Outis. There’s only one clan of crazies that goes by that name. He’s a denier? Bloody hell. I would never in a million years have thought Naeve might have family who deny magic, who defy the Fates. Holy shit.

“Yep. That’s everyone’s reaction.” She smiles ruefully. “It’s rubbed off on me. I’m a social pariah. And my poor father. It doesn’t matter that he’s the Virrey’s friend—his career is ruined. I’ll survive, but right now life is not so much fun.”

“Satyr shit.NowI understand why you’re so desperate for a friend. You’re normally flaunting it in the highest social circles but now . . . Now you’re an outcast.”

Naeve glares at me and shoots into the bathroom, slamming the door.

Shit. That came out wrong.

Chapter Nine: Lorelei

Ping.

I fumble around, half in, half out my uniform, until I find my damn tablet.

Alert: Today you have a new scheduled item.

Curious, I press the screen and a copy of my timetable loads. Sure enough, it’s changed. Right before lunch is Small Group Event: Element Reveal. I quickly scan the page for more info.

Please proceed after your second lesson to the Great Hall where Professor Maximilian will sort all late admissions into their elemental class/es.

Oh, shit. Right. Most people in Venez only have one element. What if I have more? I’mprettysure I’ve got fire. Snorting, I hunt out the rest of my uniform.

I squirm into the stuffy academy blazer just as Naeve steps quietly out of the bathroom, a forced smile on her face.

“Ready for your first day?”

“No,” I grumble. “I have no idea where any of my classes are. Seth’s tour was half-assed at best. If I get lost, I’m blaming him. Himandthe ginger lanky toff that dragged him off.”

“Oh. Kieran. Tall, ginger, in year four. Farrell’s cousin. He’s another one joining the Collectivo when he graduates. Better steer clear of him.” She casts a sideways glance to where I’m tugging on a strand of my hair and turning my map upside down for the hundredth time.

“Here.” She sighs. “Let me see . . . We’re in the same lectures this morning. You could just tag along?”

“That would be awesome!”

“Unless”—she raises an eyebrow—“unless you’d rather be alone?”

“No. Uh. That’d be great. Look, it’s not that I don’t like you. I’m just not . . . I don’t reallydofriends.”

“Melodrama much? Maybe you should be in acting school instead.”

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