I waved goodbye to Eliana, trying not to let my impatience show, and let myself inside the house with a relieved sigh.
“School day from hell,” I said under my breath.
My assessment of the Girderon’s student body hadn’t changed throughout the day. They either saw me as some human-killing hero or as the devil herself. A few switched camps, but they all consistently remained convinced I’d killed Camil, at the very least.
The whispers and stares hadn’t bothered me. But, Adira sure had. As she’d requested, I went to her every time someone ticked me off. She quizzed me endlessly on the level of pissery I felt each time, until I made her a happy-to-mad face chart and gave each face a scale of 0 to stop-asking-these-stupid-ass-questions. After that, I just pointed to the correct, corresponding face. And, each time, she made a note in my damn folder as I left.
While I had tried not to look overly interested in the folder, I had started paying attention. The first few times I went to her occurred after some altercation that either Eliana or Oanen had to pry me out of. Well, Oanen did the prying; Eliana just kept hugging me. Each time, the folder waited on the desk as soon as I opened Adira’s door.
Near the end of the day, I’d felt a mild surge of annoyance for a succubus. Other than wearing clothes similar to those I’d worn Friday night, no logical reason had presented itself to explain my anger. Determined to try one last time to discover where Adira kept my folder, I’d gone to her office.
Knocking on her door, I’d received the typical, “Enter.”
However, that time, she hadn’t been ready for me. She’d greeted me and motioned to the chair as she’d leaned over to open a filing drawer on her desk. I’d ignored the maroon folder she’d withdrawn and launched into an explanation of what I’d felt. To keep it real, I’d laid on the attitude.
During that session, a plan had been born.
I needed to break into the school and read my file after hours. And, I didn’t want to wait. I intended on going there tonight.
I cautiously left the trees and skirted around the parking lot. The Academy lay in quiet darkness. I still had no idea how I’d get inside and hoped I wouldn’t need to break a window or anything. Creeping closer to the door we used every day, I scanned the area. Quiet night sounds continued as normal. Good.
Covering the last few feet in silence, I grabbed the door’s handle and gave a light tug. As I’d expected, it didn’t open. Following the building around to the back, I began checking each window.
Near the pool, I got a break. Curls of steam drifted from one of the windows that someone had left open. I only had to pop out the screen to provide a way in.
Quietly, I hoisted myself up and eased through the opening. Warm air enveloped me as I carefully stood on my feet and looked around the dark space. Water lapped at the edges of the pool, making a soothing background sound.
I’d only taken two steps when a louder splash echoed in the cavernous space. Halting, I shifted my gaze to the water and saw, to my horror, a shape floating in the center of the main pool. I waited for whoever it was to say something, but as I watched, the body sank to the bottom.
Please don’t be another dead person, I thought, squinting in an effort to see more clearly.
The shape stayed at the bottom for almost a minute before slowly rising again. Another louder splash echoed as it surfaced, then it started to sink again. I exhaled in relief. Not dead.
Taking care to stick to the deep shadows, I moved slowly to the door and exited the pool to the main hall. From there, I hurried toward the atrium. A tiny, blinking green light above the doors caught my attention. I stopped at the edge of the hall and briefly wondered if it was a motion detector before dismissing the idea. A blinking light would give away the detector’s presence.
I hurried through the space and down the hall toward Adira’s office. The door was closed but not locked. Shutting it softly behind me, I used my penlight to look at the drawer in her desk. It had a tumbler lock on it. Just one tumbler showing the letter J. I left it on J and tested the drawer. It opened with ease, and I stared at a space crammed full of maroon folders for all the students with the last name beginning with J.
I closed the drawer and frowned at the tumbler. It couldn’t really be controlling the contents, could it? I turned it to S and opened the drawer again. The contents appeared the same, only this time with all the folders for students with the last name beginning with S. I fingered through the files, looking for Smith. When I found it, I quickly marked the spot and withdrew the folder.
There wasn’t much inside. As Adira stated, I found my printed assessments, my transcripts from prior schools, and a single additional piece of paper.
Smith, Megan
Fury
Notes:
Week 1 – Beginning emergence of powers, which she believes to be anger issues.
Week 2 – No knowledge of true self or true form.
Week 3 – No apparent interest in humans, yet. Complete apathy when exposed to their deaths.
Week 4 –
That was it? The sum of my existence? The underlined note, “Current fourth generation,” was written in the margin near the word, “fury.” What the hell did that mean? What was a fury?
I replaced the contents of the folder and tucked it back into its spot in the files.
The whole breaking and entering thing hadn’t gotten me much information. I closed the drawer and slipped out of the office. While my mind tried to solve how I would learn about the different creatures that existed, including furies, my feet started the trek back to the main lobby.
The reflection of red and blue lights on the hallway wall stopped me in my tracks. That stupid blinking light had to have been a motion sensor. I wanted to swear.
I focused on the small burgeoning thread of anger inside of me. Trammer. If I kept walking, I’d run into him. The large, raging part of me wanted that. He needed to be hurt. I shook my head and backed away. Was that really who I wanted to be? Was that a fury? All anger and fight? No thanks. What Oanen had said to me at the festival made more sense now. I had a choice, and I refused to choose that.
I retraced my steps to the back stairs. Just as I started up, a beam of light swept the hall behind me.
“Stop!” Trammer yelled.
I ran, taking the steps two at a time. His huffing breaths fell further behind as I passed the second landing. I raced to the third, wondering where I could hide when I saw a slim set of stairs leading up. The roof. Arms pumping, I sprinted for the door. It opened without a sound and closed just as silently.
Gravel crunched under my feet as I moved away from the door. How the hell was I going to get down from here? I leaned over the nearest side, and my stomach dipped at the sight of the very distant ground. Jumping was out.
I straightened just as a shadow passed over me. Oanen landed several feet away in a spray of gravel. Before the dust settled, he morphed into his very naked human self. My cheeks heated. I really needed to leave. Now.
“I’ve been looking for you for hours,” he said, stalking toward me.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
“And you found me,” I said in a rush. I hurried past him toward the student parking lot side of the building and looked over the edge. No gutters.
“And today’s word of the day is ‘screwed’ spelled m-e-g-a-n,” I mumbled to myself.
A hand circled my upper arm. I looked up and met Oanen’s frustrated gaze.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I broke into the Academy and read my file in Adira’s office.”
He glanced at the red and blue light show still going on toward the front of the building then released me.
“I’ll help you, but we need to talk afterward.”
The very naked Oanen disappeared, replaced by a familiar, large griffin. He dipped his wing, an obvious invitation to climb aboard.
The whole talking thing sounded a bit ominous. Especially when that meant Oanen would need to ditch his feathers. Yet, I didn’t see that I had any other option unless I wanted to chance getting caught and potentially attacking Trammer.
“Fine. But you better not let me fall.” I scrambled onto his wide back and settled a leg just behind each wing.
His hard muscles bunched between my thighs, and he leapt into the air. My stomach jolted, and I leaned forward, pressing myself against the space between his wings and gripping his neck to stay on. Wind buffeted my face as nothing but night sky and stars filled my view. He leveled out, and I felt each breath expand and contract the massive torso between my legs.
Exhilaration like I’d never felt before filled me. I lifted my head, not wanting to miss a thing. Wind buffeted and cooled my heated cheeks and stung my eyes. I didn’t close them, though. I looked around in awe as Oanen soared away from the roof, passing over the parking lot and skimming the tops of the trees. Everything looked dark and peaceful.
With only the soft thwrump of his wings to mark his passing, Oanen moved silently through the night. As soon as he cleared town, he rose higher, and miles passed quickly below us.
In no time, I spotted my house ahead. He started his descent, heading right for it. I squinted at the roof. It looked like something was stuck by the chimney. He flew closer. It looked like a chair. He flew closer, still. I started to panic that he’d crash into the house, but he pulled back at the last moment and landed on the roof with his back feet first.
The feathers under my hands disappeared, and I found myself clinging to Oanen’s bare back. He gripped my hands before I could let go and turned in my arms so he was facing me. With little space between us, I stared up at him. His eyes glinted in the weak light.
“Are you going to hit me again, Megan?”
“No. I know this isn’t a dream.”
His lips twitched, and his hold loosened on my wrists. Instead of stepping away, he reached up with his left hand and brushed his fingertips along my hairline from temple to jaw. The touch made my heart race. I moved my foot to step back, but he grabbed my arms quickly.
“There’s no retreating here. You’ll fall.” He lifted me, pivoted, and deposited me on the chair wedged against the chimney. The view of his waistline, which was now eye level, made me squeak and scrunch my eyes shut.
“Breaking in was foolish,” he said. “What happens when they bring Raiden in to check for scents?”
“Then, I own what I did and tell them they’re all assholes for trying to keep stuff from me. You really need pants.”
He chuckled, and I listened to the rustle of fabric. When I peeked through one eye, he was just zipping. I opened my eyes and looked up at him.
“Why do you have pants up here? For that matter, why is there a chair?”
“I got tired of standing.”
“You’ve been standing on my roof? Why?”
He sighed and looked out over the trees. I followed his gaze and discovered he had a healthy view of the area surrounding my house.
“I started spending the nights up here after the first body was found. I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I wanted to know who did it.”
I thought back to all the weird noises I’d heard. Even during the rain. Too many emotions hit me at once. The sweet ache from his willingness to sit up here and lose sleep, in any weather, just for me. The fear over what that indicated. The annoyance that he’d done it all without me knowing. The trepidation for the conversation that still needed to happen.
He moved to the peak of the roof beside me and squatted down on his heels. His expression wasn’t so closed off this time. His deep blue gaze held mine, and I could see his interest in me. Megan. The swearing, people puncher.
“Oanen…” My tone held warning, but my stomach twisted when his gaze dipped to my lips. That glance began to erode my resistance.
“Megan…”
He leaned toward me. Everything inside of me went cold then warm.
“I’m a fury,” I blurted. “I have anger issues. Well, not issues. Superpowers. They have something to do with what I am.”
He stopped his forward progress. I kept talking, panicked.
“That’s what the file said anyway. What is a fury? Am I part of the human-eating food chain, too? Honestly, they don’t look the least bit tasty. I’d rather hit most of them.”
He pulled back and studied me.
“Furies don’t eat humans. But, they punish the wicked.”
“So, being a fury isn’t going to clear my name,” I said, disappointed in his answer but relieved we seemed to be respecting personal bubbles again.
“It might help, though,” he said.
For a split second, I thought he meant getting back into my personal bubble, and my insides went crazy happy at the idea. His next words set me back on the correct topic.
“Furies can sense the wicked, and I imagine anyone who would kill Camil would need to be pretty wicked.”
“You’re saying I might be able to sense the killer? How?”
Oanen shrugged lightly.
“I think you’d need to use your superpowers. Why else would Adira keep asking why you thought you were angry with someone?”
Stunned, I sat on my roof in the dark for another moment before the problem with our current location sank in.
“How are we getting down from here?”
He scooped me up in his arms and jumped. I nearly screamed but managed to bury my face against his bare chest instead. The rumble of his laugh and the impact of our touchdown had me lifting my head.
“Not funny,” I said.
“No. Cute, though,” he said, setting me on my feet.
I swallowed hard and met his gaze as I waged an internal battle. Invite him in or let him go back to the roof?
