Page 14 of Misfit Monsters
Fen giggles. “That’s Mirage. He’s always goofing around. He might startle you sometimes, but he isn’t mean about it.”
She says that like lots of other students would be. I guess I’ve already encountered a little of that cruelty.
A woman with a bronze staff badge materializes out ofthe shadows. She gives the fanged guy—who’s still upside down on the table—a stern look. “Mirage, you know mealtime is foreating, not acrobatics.”
He cocks his head at her, his vivid hair standing on end with his pose. “Don’t humans have fun with their friends? I’m following the theme.”
She folds her arms over her chest. “They don’t like that, not in the middle of breakfast. Get down, now.”
Mirage pushes himself onto one hand and whirls around. For the space of a breath, four more identical figures spin on the table around him.
I blink, my jaw dropping, and the extra Mirages vanish. The real one leaps onto the floor and gives the staff woman a jaunty salute.
He’s too far away for me to taste any emotions seeping out of him. But even though he’s still grinning, I can’t help thinking there’s something tense in his expression.
“He can multiply himself?” I ask Fen.
“He can make you see pretty much whatever he wants. He’s a fox shifter—they’re usually good with illusions.” Fen’s smile stretches wider. “You should have seen, the other day in the gym he?—”
The blare of a horn cuts off her story. All around the room, the other students snap to attention.
Fen fiddles with the cuffs of her sleeves. She glances at me and knits her brow. “I guess you don’t really have to worry. Your hair is your holdover feature, right? A human could dye it that shade, so you don’t have to hide it.”
“I usually keep it covered anyway. When I’m around humans.” I tug up the hood of my jacket. “Why, are they bringing humans in here?”
“Oh, no, definitely not. That was an adapt check. It goes off a few times a day, totally random to keep us on our toes. When you hear the horn, you make sure you’d fit in as ahuman as quickly as possible. It stops us from getting lazy if there are parts we need to remember to keep hidden.”
Fen glances down at her arms, where her sleeves conceal all of her scales.
“It’s too bad,” I tell her. “Your scales are pretty.”
Her skin is too dark for a blush to show, but her pleased awkwardness tastes like cinnamon toast. “Thank you. I wish they weren’t so low down on my arms so they’d be easier to cover.”
“Maybe someday scales will become a new human fashion trend, and then you won’t have to.”
Fen giggles. “I don’t know about that, but it does seem like with mortals, anything is possible.”
A gurgle of liquid draws my attention. A guy a couple of tables over is pouring himself a glass of orange juice from a pitcher.
Our table is tragically devoid of pitchers.
I spring up, grabbing my plastic cup. “They forgot to put drinks on this table. We can borrow from another one, right? Sharing is a friendly thing to do.”
Fen pushes to her feet too, her dark green eyes glinting. “I’d think so. I am kind of thirsty.”
I set off, but I’ve only made it a few steps when an elegant figure sweeps in front of me with a swish of sleek black hair. “Excuseme.”
I lurch to get out of her way and set down my foot at an angle that sends a jab of pain lancing up through my ankle. With a stumble, I bump into the nearest chair.
As I grasp the chair to catch my balance, Gloss glowers down her nose at me. “It looks like the newbie is as clumsy on her feet as she is when she’s talking.”
The cluster of students following her titters with laughter. Half the cafeteria seems to be craning their necks to see what’s going on.
My face flushes—and a tingle creeps into my hair.
Gloss covers her mouth with a guffaw she somehow manages to make sound dainty. “Oh, look, she’s glowing with embarrassment. That peachy shine really isn’t a good color on you.”
I yank my hood farther over my luminescent hair, which is definitely not something any human has. “I’m sorry I almost bumped into you.”
