Page 51 of Demon Found

I lean down into Farrell’s face. “We. Do. Not. Deal.”

He sneers, stretching out and tugging Lorelei toward him. “Tell that to Lori. She saw your second dealing to Zephyr.”

Normally I’d dismiss him. Normally anything that comes out of a Cuelebre’s mouth is pure poison. But the serious look on Lorelei’s face, the downward tug at the corner of her mouth, makes me pause.

“Lorelei? Chica? I swear, I may not be a good man—I’ve made my bones—but by the Hells, we are not a drug cartel.”

“Don’t chica me! You’re full of bullshit, Chano. IsawDeago.” She looks more sad than angry.

“Deago.” I search for a glimpse of the asshole. “If it’s true, he’ll be dealt with.”

Farrell snorts. The derision in the simple noise is enough to stir my demon, my horns prickling at my scalp, wrath bubbling under my skin. I slam my hands into Farrell’s chest, forcing him back a step.

I have to get out of here.

Ignoring both Farrell and the professor, who’s flapping his hands like a demented hummingbird, I stride toward the door. Lorelei doesn’t need to see me take my anger out on Farrell. I can wait.

It’s not until I’m outside, slowly talking my demon down, that it hits me. Zephyr’s using again? Shortest detox ever, despite the whole academy talking about it. I don’t care if he destroys his allegiance. But dammit, I care that he’ll destroy Lorelei along with it.

“Hell!” I roar, slamming my hand into the rough wall of my underground bolthole. “Traitors!” Then more quietly, “Muerte a los traidores.”Death to traitors.My gaze lands on Deago and he scrabbles backward, a trail of blood oozing out behind him. He’s not going anywhere. Secreted away down here. There’s no way out. He’s not just running drugs, maybe I could have beaten that out of him. He’s running an insurrection, here in the academy. In my space. Turning my people against me with bribes of drug money, persuading them thetioswill make them richer, faster.

Deago’s screams finally fade to hiccuping sobs. He’s weak-willed for a demon. Reaching down, I twist another of his fingers until it gives a satisfying pop, and his squeals start up again. He’s already spilled.Thisis just for fun.

I twirl my dagger before placing his hand flat to the bench, holding it in a viselike grip. Stabbing down quickly in the space between each finger, I focus on his face. He flinches with each strike. I’m not touching the chickenshit with the blade, not yet. What a spineless asshole. I’m ashamed to call him family. I abandon the game and impale his hand. His shriek echoes around the small space, bouncing off the cold stone walls. Pathetic. He can’t even pretend he’s tough to break. He’sspoilingmy fun.

Grunting, I pull my dagger out and slam it into Deago’s hand one last time.

Hell.

If it had just been Deago. If only. But he’s implicated my tios too. They’re turning my gang into a drug cartel. And I’m holed up here like a little princess, learning bullshit from books. My demon howls and flings Deago across the room. Dispassionately, I watch as he slides down the wall. He’s not dead, he’ll heal. Slowly.

When mi mami got ill, my uncles took over, but I’m the heir. The Maveriks aremine.

I’ve caused this. I’ve allowed the tios to think they can do whatever the fuck they want with my gang, with mi familia.They’ve stabbed me in the back. Traitors. Mi mamiwarned me. They’re her brothers, she should know.

If she hadn’t developed that terrifying paralysis, she’d still be running the Maveriks. Teaching me what I need to know. Instead, I’m here, trying to ensure I ascend, trying to gain the skills to lead. While they’re back home trashing everything.

I’m a warrior. I’m vengeance. I’m the bogeyman. I should be the gang enforcer . . . instead I’m going to have to fight to be the top fucking dog, the leader. I sure as hell can’t leave those assholes in charge.

And what about Lorelei and her accusing little look? Do I boast that I found the problem, that I fixed it. Do I tell her she was right, thank her? I want to, and she deserves it, but with a Cuelebre and his followers as her allegiance . . .

I’m not giving them even a hint mi familia is divided. I can’t.

I run a hand through my hair, smearing blood everywhere. She’s never going to be mine. She’ll be a Cuelebre soon. An acrid taste burns the back of my mouth at the thought. I slam my fist into the wall, reveling in the pain, in the busted knuckles. That kind of pain I understand. But this fucking ache for someone I can’t have . . . hellfire, it’s worse than a thousand beatings.

I prowl toward Deago’s slumped body.

I can’t kill him, not yet. His father might still be on my side. Deago scoffed, called him stupid for hating the drug money. Even havingoneof the tios behind me would make a difference . . .

Maybe your father was right after all, little Deago. Look where dealing landed you.

WhatamI going to do with you?

Chapter Twenty-six: Lorelei

Todaymarksamonthsince I started Fates Academy. A whole damn month. I should have a much better grip on my magic. It’s like forcing shit through a sieve. Sometimes it just explodes over the sides, like when I burned the dorm room. But most of the time, I barely get a trickle out.

“Concentrate, Miss Smith!” Professor Maggo levitates past at eye level, rapping the top of my head.

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