Chapter Fourteen

“W ell, it’s official, something big is going on, and it affects everyone, not just royalty,” Loki mutters.

“It might not be the same two things. It’s entirely possible that something different is happening with royalty.” Rival suggests.

Storm gives him a dry look, “It’s too big of a coincidence. Come on, team, get changed, and we’ll meet out in the hallway. Let's get this over with.”

There’s a thrum of excitement that permeates the air around us. We may be going out on a mission earlier than students have done in the past, but we’re ready. At least individually, we are, but as a team, we might have a few hiccups.

My smile widens at the prospect of a proper fucking fight. Storm sees it and, of course, tries to make me lose it.

“You need to hurry up, Farren. No time to make yourself pretty.” He smirks.

“One, that makes no sense. When has Farren ever taken longer than us to get ready, and two, you know as well as I do, Farren doesn’t have to do anything to make herself pretty; she’s beautiful.” Reaper chastises, shaking his head and striding into the locker room while I stare after him.

He just called me beautiful, me!

“Pathetic,” Storm scoffs as he stomps past me.

“Uh oh,” Loki mutters, pure joy in his tone. They’ve witnessed enough of our sparring matches by this point that they know I’m not going to let that slide.

“Hey Stormy,” I call sweetly, knowing the name winds him up, which is why I use it. Despite himself, he stops and looks back over his shoulder at me. “I’ve met some pricks in my time, but you, sir, are an entire fucking cactus.”

The guys burst out laughing, and Storm turns red, but I swear I see the corner of his lip twitch slightly like he wants to smile. That’s become my new favourite game; trying to see if I can get him to smile a genuine fucking smile at me. Something other than the stoic facade or anger he usually aims in my direction.

Deciding that, for now, my point has been made, I strut past him, trying not to look smug so I don’t start a full sparring match, and we never get to the Headmaster. My mood has definitely improved now there’s a possibility of a good fight. Although now that I’m thinking about it, the chances of our first mission being one that requires us to use any of our combat skills are pretty low. It’s more likely that we’re going to be sent to settle a dispute using words only, which is not my strong suit, and in the mood I’m in, I may very well end up setting someone on fire just to entertain myself.

As I get dressed, I send up a quick plea to whatever god will listen, asking them to please let the job be at least mildly entertaining.

The smug smile I managed to keep at bay earlier returns full force as I realise that I’ve beaten Storm in getting ready. It’s not long until all the others, including Storm, are in the hallway, and I open my mouth to tease Storm as he glares at me, practically daring me to say something.

“Don’t start, you two. We need to get going.” Reaper warns, and I mime, zipping my lips closed as we quickly make our way through the hallways and towards the Headmaster's office.

“Do you think we’re the first to get a mission?” Loki asks.

“I think we would have heard before now that teams were being sent out before their last year.” Rival replies, “you know what this school is like; anything that is remotely interesting makes its way around the academy within seconds. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knows by the time we get out of the meeting.”

“I hope the dining hall is still open when we get out. I’m hangry.” I mutter.

“Don’t worry, Darling; if it’s not, we’ll get something ordered to the room,” Killian reassures me, wrapping a tattooed and muscled arm around my shoulders and pulling me in close.

Storm strides through the door into the reception area with purpose.

“The Headmaster will be ready for you in a minute if you’d like to take a seat.” She says in a bored voice.

The guys seem slightly taken aback that they’ve been asked to wait, and I’m reasonably certain it’s because they’ve usually been seen immediately. Still, we all sit down on the plush velvet chairs lining one wall just outside of the Headmaster's office. I wouldn’t put it past the Headmaster to be trying to play some sort of mind game with us. Trying to build up the anticipation or psych us out and make us nervous before he tells us what the mission is. Not for any other reason than it seems like it would be something he’d enjoy doing.

Even if that is what he’s doing, I think he’s massively underestimated us. Unlike most teams that have only been together for a week or so, we were lucky enough to click almost immediately and seem to share the same excitement for a fight. I’m also aware that these guys have been through more than they’ve let on and are more capable in real-world scenarios.

The Headmaster makes us wait for at least half an hour, and by the time he finally calls us in, the guys are twitchy. Not from nerves, or at least not that I can tell but from anticipation. On the other hand, I just feel like my stomach is going to eat itself.

He ushers us into his office like we’re on a timeline despite having made us wait for so long to see him. When we’re all positioned around the room because, of course, he doesn’t have enough chairs in the room for all of us, he regally takes a seat behind his desk, steeples his hands and just looks over us all.

Storm, clearly having had enough, steps forward, “You wanted to see us, sir?”

“Yes, of course. There’s been a level one rogue vamp spotted around the edges of the next town over. Due to recent developments, we’ve decided to start sending younger teams out like we used to do, and we’re sending your team in to deal with it. As you are aware, level one is the lowest threat level, so you should have no issues.” The whole time he speaks, his eyes watch Reaper and I closely, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why but it instantly puts my guard up.

“When do we leave?” Storm asks.

“First thing in the morning, we anticipate that you’ll be back by lunch and can resume your usual class schedules assuming none of you has sustained injuries that need seeing to.” This time his eyes stay on me, and there’s an unmistakable glint in them that sends a prickle of warning down my spine.

I am relatively sure that he’s up to something, but I keep my face blank as if I’ve noticed nothing out of the ordinary. I’ll wait until we’re done here and ask the guys to see if they’ve noticed anything. There’s a chance I may be being paranoid.

“We’ll be ready.” Storm replies firmly, his eyes narrowing slightly at the Headmaster.

It looks like it might not just be me who has noticed something off.

“I do not doubt it. Reika, my receptionist, has a file for each of you detailing the location and the target.” The Headmaster informs us.

Storm nods and then turns to leave, the rest of us following his lead, and it's not until the door shuts behind us that I finally stop feeling the Headmaster’s eyes burning into my back. Storm grabs the files from Reika, not bothering to hand them out yet as we all make our way back to the room. As soon as the door shuts, he hands out the files, and I quickly flick through mine. There really isn’t much information in it. Just the name of the village, the forest it's been seen in, and the level the vamp is. That’s it, a single piece of paper in a file. I know I’m new here, but we’ve had mock case files given to us in lessons to study and familiarise ourselves with them, and every single one had more information in it than this one.

Reaper throws his folder down on the table, a frown to rival Storm’s on his face, “Okay, first, that file is completely fucking useless. They’ve left out a lot of stuff that should be in there, and second what was up with the Headmaster? He kept looking at Farren and me like he knew something that we didn’t.”

“I thought it was just me that noticed that,” I reply.

“No, I did too,” Killian adds in.

“He’s up to something that much is clear. We need to make sure that we have our guards up.” Storm orders.

“I agree, something isn’t right, but we don’t have any evidence to be able to question it. We’re just going to have to do this job and hope that he hasn’t left anything vital out.” Mayhem suggests.

“Good idea. We can handle almost anything he throws at us.” Rival adds. “I’m going to order food. What do you guys want?”

We all put in our orders, and while we are waiting for it to be delivered, we start talking about the plan for the mission.

“It seems fairly straightforward. As the rogue is a level one, we can just behead the fucker, and he’ll ash. We’ll take the horses rather than a carriage, one because it's less conspicuous and two because it’s quicker.” Storm lays out the plan efficiently.

Despite all his misgivings, he was born to be a leader, and I have no problem with following him.

“That sounds good. The only thing I’d add is that since we’re fairly sure something dodgy is going on, we need to make sure we bring supplies for staying overnight just in case we get caught out for some reason.” Killian suggests.

Storm surprises me when he readily agrees with him, proving that he really is a good leader since he listens to his teammate’s suggestions rather than being stubborn and insisting that it’s his way only. The guys carry on talking about the supplies they need to take and what the strange behaviour of the Headmaster could mean, but my mind wanders. I’ve done missions like this probably hundreds of times by now, and with fewer supplies than they are suggesting we take. Not that what they’re wanting to take is unnecessary. It’s just that I know I can do it with nothing but a weapon and my horse. I also know I can do it without a team too, and that’s where my distraction has come from; I am not used to working with other people, and I’m not used to having to make sure that other people are coping well during a fight and don’t need back up.

Add in that these people I actually like, and it’s giving me massive anxiety. Logically I know they’re capable; they fought me just after I came out of the Void and held their own, which is pretty much unheard of when it comes to my experience of coming out of the Void. It’s just making me nervous, which is not a feeling I’m used to having.

“Does the princess know how to ride, or is one of us going to have to buddy with you?” Storm asks, bringing me out of my thoughts with his snarky tone.

“I can ride,” I reply, letting my voice hint at hesitancy I don’t feel. I love it when he underestimates me.

The truth is I’ve been riding since I was tiny. Father couldn’t very well send me out on all of his personal missions if I had no mode of transport, and because of the way I lived, I have far less fear than I should have, and I push myself and my horse to the limits. My horse, Revel, is used to me and thankfully likes taking as many risks as I do. I was insistent that he be brought here as well since I wouldn’t have been surprised if my father had him killed just because he knew I had a bond with him. He was sent behind me and arrived a couple of days ago. I haven’t managed to find the time to get down to the stables to see him yet, and I know he’s going to be pissed at me.

Fae horses aren’t like the ones that the Earth realm has. They can communicate with us through feelings and sometimes if you develop a strong enough bond, pictures as well. They’re also stronger, faster and bigger than the Earth realm horses I’ve seen and come in many different colours. Revel is the same colour as black opal, meaning that although his base colour is black, he has streaks of red, teal, purple and even a pearlescent star in the middle of his broad head. He’s stunning.

“Don’t worry, Love; they have spare horses. You’ll be able to use one of them, and we can take it slow. The only time limit on us is one we’ve given ourselves.” Loki says reassuringly, and I almost feel bad, that is until Storm opens his mouth.

“If you’re too slow, we’ll just put you on one of our saddles.” He says bluntly. “Like the princess you are.”

“Shut the fuck up, you spanner. You know full well I’m not a fucking princess.” I growl.

A trickle of regret flashes through his eyes ever so briefly, but he keeps his mouth clamped shut, not apologising. Not that I expected him to.

“Did you just call him a spanner?” Loki asks, amused and incredulous all at the same time.

“Well yeah, I think it's funny,” I reply with a shrug. “I think I saw it in an old British tv show.”

“Alright, I think that’s something else we need to talk about,” crossing his arms over his broad chest, Killian stares at Storm and me with a severe expression, his tail tapping against his leg.

“What?” Storm, sounding almost petulant, asks.

“You two need to knock off the sexually charged verbal sparring you have going on. At least while we’re on the mission.” Killian states.

Storm’s mouth drops open, and shock rears its head in me at the implication of his words.

Storm fumbles with his words for a second before managing to get out through grinding teeth, “Fine.”

Killian looks pleased with himself and then looks at me, “Farren?”

“Sure, I can do that,” I reply casually, hiding my reaction to his words much better than Storm did.

“Great.”

Storm seems to have composed himself as he clears his throat, “We better get an early night. I want to set off at sunrise so we can get back quicker.”

With that, he turns on his heel and makes his way into his room, closing his door slightly harder than necessary.

I say a quick goodnight to the guys and go to my own room, getting changed into the pyjamas that turned up in my room at some point during the day. I lift the shirt to my nose and take a deep inhale; these are Reaper’s. Ever since movie night, I’ve had a new set of pyjamas in my room every day, and each time, they smell of a different one of the guys. I even had a set which I swear smelled like Storm. It makes me melt every damn time.

*********

The next morning I pull on my fighting leathers. They’ve protected me in more fights than I can count and consist of supple black leather trousers that cling to my figure and have spells built into them to not only repel certain attacks but also to hide my weapons well enough that they wouldn’t be found in a search. I never hide all of my weapons because that would make people suspicious. I pull on a tight long-sleeved black cotton shirt and then layer my leather corset-style top over it. It covers my boobs with two straps that cross over the front of my chest and then onto my back, turning into a harness that will hold two of my swords for easy access.

Before I pull on my ankle-length black leather jacket with deep red-purple accents, I pull out my bag of weapons from under my bed. I still haven’t found an adequate hiding place for them, but I have put layer after layer of defensive spells on them, so if anyone did find them, they wouldn’t be able to talk about it afterwards. It may seem a bit extreme, but it’s not just ordinary weapons I’m protecting. They’re weapons that match those that are known to have been used in assassinations by me, mostly because I’ve left them behind through necessity. They’re distinct enough with their purple inlaid runes and black gemstone blades that they would instantly draw suspicion. I can’t have anyone here find out my real identity.

Because of that, I very carefully avoid any of those weapons, settling on arming myself with my other blades and my most favourite weapon that I don’t get to use as much as I’d like. It has a soft, supple handle that fits in my hand perfectly and is easily described as a whip with a blade on the end. If used properly, it can easily decapitate an enemy without getting in striking range. It took me a long time to master, but now I rarely go anywhere without it; even if I don’t get to use it as much as I like, it gets pride of place on my hip as one of the weapons that won’t be concealed along with the swords on my back. However, hidden from sight, I have eight more daggers. Finally, checking that I have everything, I don’t bother to grab a bag. One, because even if something goes wrong and we end up staying for a couple of days, my clothes are sufficient, and two, because I never have before. The only thing I do take is spare underwear because gross, and they go into a concealed pocket in my jacket.

Satisfied I have everything I need; I step out of my room to meet the guys.