Page 23 of Demon Found

I have three elements.

I’m going to be powerful.

Chapter Twelve: Lorelei

Traipsingthroughthecorridors,I poke my fingers in my ears and sigh. The banshee isloud. Hewie the histrionic I’ve named him. Banshees in all the storybooks get ridiculous titles. That should be his. At least I just had to follow the wailing to find the cafeteria again. The academy is huge. I don’t know how I’m ever going to find my way around.

Walking into the big glass building, I’m hit by the most amazing aromas. The chefreallyknows how to cook. The food is my favorite thing so far. That and finding out I might actually be a powerful supe after all. Clapping my hands together, I suppress a grin. I am one hundred percent making Frank, and everyone else on my shit list, pay.

“Look, it’s the hairy harpy!”

The table of students next to me disintegrates into shrieks of laughter. I rub at the back of my hands before stuffing them in my pockets, a blush rushing up my cheeks. Fucking Camille and her stupid potion. At leastmostof the hair has gone. Still, I’ve seen glimpses of the photos circulating on social media. I have to figure out how Maga works and get the damn things taken down.

Shuffling forward in the line for food I keep my eyes on the floor, trying to block out the snide comments. The back of my neck is clammy. This is worse than high school. I thought we were meant to be adults.

A low growl emits directly behind me, and every single hair on my arms stands on end.

“Got a problem with hair,puta?”

Shit, how did I miss six-foot-three of muscle walking into the room?

“No . . . nooo. Not at all, Chano. We didn’t mean it like it was a bad thing.” One of the guys who’d just been slating me stands up quickly, knocking his chair over. His face is the color of dirty dishwater, and he’s stammering. “We . . . we’ll go now.”

“Just saying,puta. I’m hairy in my demon form. If you think hair is funny, then we have a problem.”

The entire table beside me empties as if Father-freaking-Time put them on fast forward.

The tattooed hottie winks at me, runs a hand through his thick black hair, and promptly jumps the whole line without anyone so much as whispering a complaint.

Holy shit. A Maverik just stood up for me. Again. And what a wink. I’m not interested in dating, but if I was, he would top out the list. Although, between him and Farrell . . . Shit. Him, Farrell, and Zephyr. If a girl was going by looks, it’d be difficult to pick.I’m not here for boys. I’m here to graduate.

I barely notice what I order from the counter I’m so flustered. Glancing around, I finally spot Naeve’s frantically waving arm. She’s nabbed a table, and hellfire if it doesn’t look as if she’s got another harpy for a friend. Iknewshe wouldn’t be a loner for long. I slip into the seat between them, smiling wanly at the stranger. After my morning it’s a hell of a lot nicer to have friendly people to sit with than be by myself. My gaze locks onto the girl beside us. Satyr shit. She’s the chic from the poster. The singer. Naeve sure picks influential friends. Well, except me.

“Was thatChano?” Naeve spits his name.

Quickly shoveling some mashed potato into my mouth, I nod. Holy shit, this stuff is melt-in-the-mouth goodness. I should have gotten more. I want it all. I cut into the bean burger next, and the smell that hits me makes me moan out loud. Not many supes are vegetarian, so normally I’m stuck with bland cheese sandwiches. Maybe I’ve died and gone to heaven. Or hell? It tastes so good it’s got to be sinful, right?

A prickling sensation creeps up my neck and I pause, fork halfway to my mouth.

“Lorelei Smith. You do know who Chano Maverik is, don’t you?”

I swivel my head as Farrell storms toward the table and throws himself down opposite me. Well, this is interesting. I swallow my last mouthful and quirk an eyebrow in his direction.

“Chano Maverik is a gangster. The Gangster. He’s the heir to the Maveriks,” he grinds out.

“Yup.” I widen my eyes and let the “p” pop.

Farrell scowls. “You can’t be friends with us both, Lorelei. That’s not how it works here. It’s him or me.”

Cheeky sod. He wasn’t saying anything about beingfriendswith me before. In fact, I clearly remember him refusing to use my name only this morning.

“Lizard boy is right,” Chano says in his gravelly tones. Farrell whips around to face the shambling hulk. “In this academy you’re either Maverik or you’re Cuelebre—gang or government. You can’t be both.”

“Well, that’s easy,” I mutter into my milkshake.

Farrell winks at me, grins cockily and starts to stand.

“Neither.”

---