Page 103 of Demon Found

Chano nudges me. Partial manifestation I can do. We practiced it in harpy class, it can’t be any different for horns and tail . . . surely? Biting down on my lip, I take a deep breath. Chano’s eyes trace the action hungrily. I turn away from his mischievous grin and concentrate on how my tail and horns feel.

“Mark to Lorelei. Exercise two, fireball. Let’s speed this up, I want a fireball into a fire tornado. Keep it contained.”

The imp up next whimpers slightly before creating a tiny fireball. He glances hesitantly at the professor before swirling his hands and creating a mini tornado of flames. The professor frowns at him and the kid starts to visibly shake. Picking up on the shake in his hands, his tornado wobbles precariously. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before steadying himself and dissipating the fire.

“He set fire to Prof’s papers last week,” Chano announces quietly in my ear. “You’re already a better demon than him.”

The professor’s eyes swivel to Chano, and he ducks his head. A prof that Chano actually respects? Hell has just frozen over. That tells me one vital thing—do not fuck with this lady.

“Lorelei?”

A fire tornado is a piece of cake. I spark it up and start molding. I have fire, and what none of these assholes know is I have aether. I mean, that’s how I attacked Belinda.

The mere thought of Belinda and my magic strains across the classroom toward her. She lets out a shriek just as I manage to wrangle it under control and douse my flames.Fuck.Chano cackles like a madman beside me, landing a massive kiss on my forehead. Great, that definitely makes it look like it was intentional. No wonder the girl hates me. Well, that and he asked her for a favor and I attacked her as a reward for granting it.

Once we move onto the trickier exercises, I don’t do so well. But I’m managing at least half of them. I get the impression the tiny terror of a professor is trying her hardest not to look impressed. I spot some of the weaker demons in the class starting to struggle and a little glow of pride lights me up.

“Assert an emotion on the classroom,” the professor reads out. “Belinda, you take this one.”

Belinda’s beady little eyes fall immediately on me, and I take in the scar running down the length of her neck. Gulping, I turn my eyes away, staring at the floor.

How could I do that to someone? The guilt gnaws at me. I’m a horrible person. I’m not even really a demon. I’m nothing. An evil nothing. I don’t deserve to be here. I should do everyone a favor and end it all.

A hand grips the back of my neck, and I jerk my eyes up. Every student in the room is glaring at me with hatred glittering in their eyes. Some of the closest even start toward me, muttering obscenities.

“It’s a demon skill, Lori,” Chano says, breaking through the negative fog clouding my brain.

“Your emotions are being influenced. Fight it. Build a wall in your mind.”

Giving my head a quick shake, I register the smirk on Belinda’s face. Shit. I feel guilty, but I don’t hate myself for it, I don’t want to die. With effort, I build a brick wall in my mind, layer on layer, filling in the gaps, reinforcing it. Finally, the last tendrils of Belinda’s influence melt away.

The prof claps her hands. “Very good, Belinda. Although, perhaps there was no need to be quite so specific in the emotion you made everyone feel. Hatred for one individual student was notentirelynecessary.” She doesn’t sound cross, more amused.

The students who’d been affected are shifting in uncomfortable embarrassment.

“Homework for next week,work on your barriers to emotional influence. Now, for the last exercise today, each of you will come to the front and lift this statue, using just one finger on each hand. If you succeed, you may leave. If you fail, you owe me one minor favor or two hours detention on Saturday. You choose.”

Muttering breaks out and Chano nudges me. “If you fail, take detention, chica, got it?”

The solemnity in his voice makes me sit up and listen. It takes a moment to sink in. The prof is using her class to gather demonic favors. How many students and ex-students owe her? What happens if she calls in all those favors at once? Fuck this. It shouldn’t be allowed.

“What the hell kind of professor pulls shit like that on her own students?” I mutter to Chano.

“She’s part imp.” He shrugs. “Keeps life interesting.”

Are you shitting me? What kind of crazy genus are demons?

Chapter Fifty-two: Lorelei

Exhausted,Ispilloutof the library, Naeve and Chano trailing behind. I can’t keep this up much longer. Training my aether in secret, all the extra demon stuff to catch up on, as well as researching unbalanced bonds. I could sleep for a week. Naeve looks shattered too. Dark circles under her eyes make her normally plump face look gaunt, and her skin is almost translucent. We have to stop pushing so hard.

We turn the corner into the quad and run smack into a crowd of students gathered around the announcements board. My stomach plummets to my boots. Shit. I’d forgotten. Today they announce the final grade tally for the ten percent battle. It’s so stupid, we still have a month of term to go. A month I really could have used to help with my grades. They’re improving . . . slowly.

Chano elbows his way forward, towing me and Naeve behind. I don’t want to look. I know the outcome already. I fucked up. Granted, I had help from Camille, but even so. Chano ignores my protest and yanks me along until we’re near the front.

Professor Hannya stands in the middle of the semicircle of students. Her tiny form and immaculate suit are almost fully covered by the flowing academy robe, but it does nothing to disguise the evil-as-fuck glint in her eye.

I watch, transfixed. A student steps up and places their hand on the glowing glass ball floating in front of the professor. A few words are exchanged, and their grades flash up, the words hovering in the air before swirling away in a multicolored mist. Dammit, there’s no privacy. This is designed to make a spectacle of the failing students. A spectacle I’m about to be part of.

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