Page 27 of Misfit Monsters
Pearl swats her wife’s arm. “We have to give her a real chance to master her powers. Lots of beings can’t figure it out on their own.”
“But lots can’t smother a whole hallway in searing darkness in an instant.” Shanty turns to Gnash. “What were your impressions of her in class?”
“She was clumsy but gave the exercise a good effort,” Gnash admits. “More than some of them that’ve been here longer and should know to take the lessons seriously. And she showed spirit when the other students were hassling her. If it wasn’t for the explosion of shadows, I’d say she has promise.”
I give him a pointed look. “She still does. It’s obvious she hasn’t interacted with other shadowkind very much. She’s still finding her footing, but she’s very committed.”
Shanty squares her shoulders. “All right. I think we should give her another chance, taking far greater precautions. And of course her badge will be updated to warn her classmates. We didn’t start this school to abandon difficult cases at their first stumble. Any significant arguments?”
Albumin sighs but doesn’t say anything. Toni dips her head in acceptance.
“Good.” Shanty brushes her hands together. “Meeting adjourned. I’ll let her know the verdict—and start her first one-on-one session. I should handle those personally.”
I head out of the meeting room with tension still coursing through my body. It sends me toward the exercise room.
I change into my workout clothes quickly, stretch, and decide to start with the rowing machine. The rhythmic backand forth is weirdly relaxing at the same time as it kicks my ass.
That machine is also one of the least social options, which can be a plus. I keep a casual attitude walking through the exercise room, but I’m starkly aware of the glances that flick my way—and then avert, sometimes with a sidle farther away from me.
The shadowkind students and staff who come to work out their physical bodies chat with each other plenty. But I’m not only one of the rare humans in the mix—I’m one of the few we warn our students against in class.
My sorcery doesn’t call attention to itself when I’m not tapping into it. I could if I wanted to, though, and that’s all they need to know.
And even though I had my powers passed on to me by my sorcerer parents… the fact thattheycould wield sorcery means someone in my bloodline most likely murdered shadowkind to consume their essence, paying for the power with innocent lives.
I prefer not to think about that aspect of my distant history… but I doubt any shadowkind who’s aware of how humans gain sorcerous skills ever forgets that fact.
I settle into the rhythm of the machine until the ache I was waiting for prickles through my muscles. Most shadowkind come into being with at least slightly superhuman strength. If one of my missions outside of school requires a physical fight rather than one of magic, I want some chance of holding my own.
The whir of the machine fills my head. I’m heading into minute twenty-three when someone drops a weight into its rack too abruptly.
The clatter jolts through my nerves. A memory flashes behind my eyes: a shadowkind creature crashing through awindow and landing on the floor with a clacking of its vicious claws.
I flinch, and the handle slips from my fingers. It smacks into the head of the machine.
Forcing myself to inhale slowly, I slide over to retrieve the handle. Did anyone notice my lapse?
A surreptitious glance around suggests not. I try to lose myself in the rush of exertion again, but my mind can’t quite detach.
Maybe it isn’t just the instinctive reactions to my sorcery that set me apart. Maybe my past means I’m putting up barriers I’m not even aware of.
Because I know too vividly that not all shadowkind creatures are innocent.
It’s been a long time since a horde of very literal monsters slaughtered my birth family and kidnapped me. It was only a brief fragment of my life that they kept me captive before Quinn and Rollick came to my rescue. I barely think about it anymore.
That doesn’t mean the dreams have stopped, though.
I grit my teeth and push myself even faster.
When I came to the school, I told myself the students would adjust to my presence. That we’d find a way to accept and even welcome each other. After all, I grew up surrounded by shadowkind. I know plenty of them aren’t like the brutal fiends that destroyed my first home, just as I’m not like the sorcerers who develop their talent by destroying other beings.
Somehow, six years into my tenure here, the harmony I imagined hasn’t materialized.
At what point do I accept that it never will?
When my shirt is sticking to my back with sweat, I peel myself off the rowing machine. As I debate whether to move on to weights or the treadmill next, one of the shadowkindsupport staff slips out of the shadows a few steps away from me.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Jonah. Rollick’s sending along a being who’s been disruptive at one of his clubs. You should oversee the transfer in case there’s major resistance.”
