Chapter Thirteen

H e starts to shift awkwardly in front of me, running his hand through his blood red hair as the room remains silent, and all of the guys look at him with varying expressions of shock and pride. I move closer to him, place my hand on his chest as he remains statue still and then rise up on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, lingering longer than I should.

“Thank you, Loki. That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” I whisper sincerely before I step back, holding the clothes tightly to my chest and looking up at his mesmerising smile. His purple eyes practically glow with happiness at my words and small show of affection, and I don’t care how crazy it may sound, but I’m going to make sure I can put that smile on his face more often, even if it leaves me in a daze.

“You’re welcome, Love. Go and get changed so we can watch Notting Hill. I haven’t watched it for far too long,” smiling softly, he gently nudges me towards my room.

“You watched it last week.” Mayhem exclaims, exasperation colouring his tone.

I shut my door just as I hear Loki reply, “As I said, it’s been ages.”

My smile stays as I change into the grey joggers and huge black t-shirt that smells like Loki; I felt slightly crazy sniffing it, but no one saw me, and I’ll never admit I did. The clothes swamp me, the soft cotton shirt easily reaching my knees, I could probably get away with wearing it without the joggers, but I’m not comfortable enough for that yet, so instead, I roll up the cuffs a few times so that my feet actually appear out of the bottoms and I don’t end up tripping over them and most likely flashing my arse. I then realise that they come with a drawstring around the waist, so at least I don’t have to worry about them falling down if I do trip over them.

I rush to get back out to the sitting room and find the guys already settled down, each of them covered with blankets, what looks like hot chocolates set up on the coffee table and desserts on their laps while the rest of the puddings wait with the mugs on the table. We really did get too many for us to eat feasibly. Mayhem smiles as he points to the space next to him with a blanket already for me, and I practically skip over to it, wriggling in my seat to get comfy.

“Hot chocolate or dessert first?” Kill asks, a knowing glint in his eye.

“Dessert, obviously,” I grin.

He hands me a plate with a little bit of everything on it, and we all settle down to watch Notting Hill. Poca curled up on a pile of blankets one of the guys had obviously set up for him on the floor.

“How are they not setting on fire right now?” I ask the room, “he’s good at lowering his temperature but never enough that he can lay on something for any length of time. I have spells and things that I use to protect anything he wants to lie on.”

“We’re using a combination of our air and water to keep it cool enough and stop him from burning it up, and he seems to approve.” Rival explains.

“Impressive. Can you keep it up for the whole movie, or will it start to wear you both out?” I curiously ask.

“It’ll probably start to wear them out near the end of the movie,” Mayhem interjects.

“Wow, that’s quite a while to be holding your gifts and watching Tv at the same time.” I compliment, making pink spots appear on both of the twin's cheeks. So freaking cute. Before I get distracted by how cute they are, I remember where I was going with my line of questioning, “If you hold it for a little bit longer, I’ll put his usual spell on the blankets to save you wearing yourselves out unnecessarily.”

“How long will it last?” Mayhem asks curiously, his analytical brain already spinning with possibilities.

I concentrate for a moment thinking of the spell I want, triggering it and then answer Mayhem, “Erm, well, I haven’t had anything I’ve done it to before set on fire yet, and the first time I did it was a good few years ago. You can let go of your elements now, guys. It should be there.”

“That shows an incredible amount of power and control to do that,” Mayhem says.

“It’s as easy as breathing for me,” I admit. “It wasn’t at first, but I’ve done it so often now that it’s easy.”

Once Poca is all sorted, they settle down, getting comfortable to watch the film, and I try my hardest to ignore the fact that I am definitely feeling Storm’s absence and what his absence means. I highly doubt that he’s just talking with those women.

Deciding to distract myself, I focus on the screen; it shocks me how well the TV is working. We can get away with smaller electrical appliances from the Earth realm working over here, but Televisions tend to test that boundary, and they glitch every now and then or even turn off completely for no reason. So far though we’ve had uninterrupted movie viewing pleasure.

It's halfway through the film when the door to the apartment opens, and Storm walks in, he pauses only a few feet into the room, and his eyes flicker over us and to the screen. The others all stay resolutely watching the screen, not really acknowledging his presence apart from the head nods when he walked in. His eyes cloud with something that I’m almost certain is longing as he stands hesitantly only a few feet into the room, which is the only explanation for why I do what I do next.

Waiting until his eyes land on me again, I raise my eyebrow in challenge as I scoot up closer to Mayhem and lift the edge of my blanket, inviting him without words to join us. I’m aware that the guys are watching us both, although they’re all trying to pretend that they’re still watching the film.

I fight to control my facial expression, stopping it from showing the shock I feel when his face morphs into confusion, and he takes a step towards me, almost like he’s actually going to accept my offer. Instead, he frowns as if his actions have confused him and then veers off, striding towards his room, making me sigh as I lower the blanket back down. I honestly don’t know why I’m still trying with Storm when he’s made it perfectly clear he doesn’t like me. Maybe it’s because whether he likes it or not, we are stuck together as a team until we die. There’s no other way out, no matter what the Headmaster was trying to convince them of when I first arrived. So one way or another, we’re going to have to learn how to get along because otherwise, we’re going to make life hell for the others and risk putting everyone at risk if we don’t have each other’s backs on a mission.

“I have no idea what his problem is,” Rival starts, “even if he doesn’t like you. . .”

Kill interrupts with a scoff, “Which seems unlikely.”

“True, but even if he didn’t, he should still be able to be civil. He fucking hates the arseholes on the Tempre team and managed not to be such a big dick to them.” Rival finishes.

“The problem isn’t that he doesn’t like her.” Shoving a bite of chocolate cake in his mouth, Reaper mutters, his eyes still on the TV.

It’s silent for a few seconds before Loki caves, “Well are you going to fill us in on what the problem is then? It felt like you were going somewhere with that.”

“Oh, right yeah, she makes him feel, and he doesn’t know how to handle that, so he gets bitchy.” We all just stare at him incredulously after that confession, so he adds, “think about it, he’s shown more flashes of brief emotion in the last few days than he has for years.”

“You actually may be on to something,” Kill muses, looking thoughtful.

“Of course I am,” he replies smugly, and I let out a quiet chuckle.

“Even if that is the case, he needs to fucking stop it with how he’s treating Farren. She doesn’t deserve half the shit he’s fucking doing.” Loki warns.

Storm opens his bedroom door back up, wearing black joggers and a loose white t-shirt before anyone can respond. The room falls silent as the guys all pretend to go back to watching the tv. My attention, however, stays on Storm as he reaches where I’m sitting and shifts from foot to foot awkwardly. There’s a vulnerability about him right now that has my heart softening for him in a way that it shouldn’t be. I lift the corner of the blanket again, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest when he sits down stiffly next to me, his eyes laser-focused on the tv.

My wide eyes move to the others, who infuriatingly don’t look like they’re shocked at this turn of events. Rival even shrugs at my questioning stare as if to say it is what it is. Reaper looks smug like he knew this was going to happen, and I’m just sitting here staring at the screen, tense as fuck, wondering if we’ve finally crossed over into him tolerating me.

I’m also getting mad at myself because since when was I this freaking girl. I wouldn’t have given a flying monkey fuck what he thought about me that long ago; in fact, I would’ve preferred it, and actually, I still feel like that about every other fucker apart from these guys. It’s probably because of the whole spear team choosing thing, making me a team player and making me actually give a shit about them. While I understand the reasoning behind that, I feel like I need to take just a slight step back before these friendship feelings turn into something that will destroy me and considering they’re already edging towards that, it’s a legitimate concern.

For the rest of the film, I force myself to relax and stuff my face with desserts and eventually, Storm relaxes next to me, although he stays silent the entire time, and when we finally do go to bed, he gets up without a word and softly closes his door behind him. I don’t even bother to comment on it as I say a quick goodnight to the guys, call Poca and fall into bed. It has been a long and emotional day.

While I’m with the guys, I seem to be able to forget that my life is fucked up. My father tortures me for funsies, and my hands are drenched in the blood of kills, some of whom probably didn’t deserve their fate, but I followed orders, or I ended up in even worse condition than I was. In the last two years, I’ve done my own research into the targets my father sends me out after, and if they’re innocent, then I help to hide them. I have a network of trusted people who help me safely get these targets out of my father's path. None of them know my identity, of course. I’ve developed spells and weapons that look like they kill when in actual fact, it's just an extremely strong illusion. I’ve been through things that are so horrifying that most people wouldn’t be able to dream it in their nightmares, and yet when I’m with the others, I find it easier to push it away.

Now that I’m alone and the dark tentacles of sleep are reaching for me, the demons from my not-so-distant past are salivating with the desire to remind me exactly how much control they have over me. I really fucking hope these rooms are soundproof.

**********

Fortunately for me, I either didn’t make any noise despite the horrific nature of my nightmares, the rooms were soundproofed, or none of the guys cared that I was screaming like a banshee. I don’t think it would’ve been the last one.

Over the next few days, we quickly fall into the routine of classes and spending the evenings together either studying or just getting to know each other better. So far, I have been successful in keeping it to a friendly level, and we’ve had no more incidents of people trying to murder me, which is both a relief and slightly concerning. It’s concerning because I don’t think it’s ever been this long between murder attempts, and that’s putting me massively on edge. Because of that, I’m feeling restless. I’ve lived the same life of violence and fighting to stay alive for so long that the mundane routine I’ve found myself in over the last few days has been precisely that mundane.

I never thought I’d be wishing for someone to try to take me out, just to assuage my own boredom. Don’t get me wrong, the classes are interesting, and I am learning things in most of them, except combat, where I still have to keep my true skills and strength on the down low, which isn’t helping with restlessness at all.

Zev was in combat class the day after his vision and, as predicted, wouldn’t say anything about what happened. Worryingly though, he’s been training extra hard and making sure that on any sparring we have that we are paired together. I first thought it was so I could help him, but I’ve quickly learned that he’s helping me just as much. He’s showing me how to get around a fighter that can predict your moves before you make them, and it’s an important skill to have. He’s stepped it up enough that I’d say that he was preparing for a battle that he knows is going to happen and not just the vague idea of one happening at some point.

We’ve all taken our cues from him and have, in turn, stepped up our own training. Even so, there’s only so much we can do, and I’ve realised that I’m not the only one who holds back the guys do too. Those moments sparring with Zev are helping to control the restlessness a bit but not enough, and my magic is still acting out. I still have to keep a tight hold on it at all times.

I’ve tried to catch Zev after class just to talk to him, but he rushes off every time, not even bothering to shower and change. The teachers were all still acting like there was something massive going on, but as of yesterday have started to behave more normally, not that I’m buying it.

Then we have Storm. I naively thought that after the movie night, he would’ve at least warmed up to me, but it seems to have gone the opposite way. He’s finding every opportunity to needle me, and it got annoying enough that any feelings I thought I had for him are thoroughly buried. I’m enjoying winding him up as much as he’s enjoying pissing me off. That brief moment of vulnerability that I had in the dining room has definitely passed. Thank fuck. The others have learned just to leave us to it now, and I think they mostly find it amusing when we get in verbal sparring matches. My walls have officially slid back into place as far as he’s concerned, which makes dealing with him a hell of a lot easier.

All in all, I’m enjoying being here, which is surprising. I just wish my nightmares would fuck off already. Poca has been practically glued to my side for the past few days; thanks to the panic attacks I keep waking up with, the lack of sleep is making me stabby.

I might have to see if Kill will take me back to the Crypt with him when he plans to go in a couple of days to check-in. I’m sure I could get me a decent fight there or at least piss someone off enough to want to murder me.

I am aware that is not a healthy line of thinking but fuck it.

“Are we even going to bother trying to catch up with him today?” Reaper’s tone is bored as we all stare after a retreating Zev.

“No point. He disappears like a fucking pro, give him a couple of years, and he’ll be good enough for the Crypt.” Killian compliments.

“High praise, coming from you.” Storm replies.

Whereas he’s gotten more hostile with me, he

seems to have gone the other way when it comes to the guys, showing them more snippets of emotion other than anger. What the fuck ever, I’m done trying to figure him out.

“Food, I’m starving,” I say simply because I’m stabby, and food seems to help.

The guys share an amused look that seems to communicate something else as well, but I really can’t be bothered to figure it out. Shrugging, I make my way toward the changing rooms.

“Hang on a minute, Farren. Can you come back here? I need to talk to the whole team.” The instructor calls after me, and I let out an annoyed sigh before turning back around and heading back.

Wow, food seriously better help because my stabby-ness has reached a new level today.

The instructor eyes my petulant stomp with a raised eyebrow but wisely chooses not to comment. However, Storm scoffs without humour, and I meet his gaze daring him to say something to me right now because I bet he could give me a proper fucking fight. He opens his mouth, and I feel anticipation spark through me before it quickly gets snuffed out when Mayhem elbows him in the ribs, and Storm snaps his mouth shut, settling on glaring at me instead. Being the mature twenty-one-year-old woman I am, I stick my tongue out at him.

Loki snorts but quickly turns it into a cough when the instructor glares at him.

“How can we help you?” Storm asks formally.

“The Headmaster would like to see you all in his office before dinner. You’re being sent out on your first mission.”

“Already?” Mayhem asks.

“Due to recent developments, everyone will start to be sent out on missions over the next few weeks.” With no further explanation, he turns on his heel and walks off.

What a knob. He is definitely not one of these teachers that has their student's best interests in mind. He couldn’t care less and that’s not exactly something that you want in a teacher.