Chapter Three

I grab my bag before remembering I needed to ask Magnus what to do with the letter for my father from the Headmaster. Fishing it out of the end pocket of my bag, I sling the strap over my shoulder and then jog back over to where Magnus is still talking to the team.

“Magnus, what do I do with this?”

“What is it?”

“A letter from the head to father,” I reply.

“Get rid of it.” He answers immediately, and I grin.

I nod in reply, ignoring the confused look the team share with each other, and then jog towards the locker room to sort out my face and store my weapons. The locker rooms are clean and spacious, with a central area where the lockers and sinks are and then either side male and female changing areas and showers. I find an empty locker easily, and before I put my bag of weapons in, I pull out some C4 and a detonator, a small bomb that won’t do much damage but will get my point across if someone tries to mess with my locker and then pull out my first aid kit too. I place my bag inside and set up the bomb to go off if anyone tries to get in the locker before shutting the door with a satisfied grin.

There is a line of sinks, with mirrors above them on the same wall as the door, and I walk over to them. Laying out the first aid kit, I search through it, pulling out a needle and thread and quickly threading the needle. Unfortunately, my earlier suspicions are confirmed when I look in the mirror and see that not only is my cheek a lovely shade of purple already, but my lip does, in fact, need stitches. Usually, I wouldn’t have to worry about stitching it as by now both my cheek and lip should’ve healed, but thanks to the aftereffects of my father's last punishment coursing through me, I won’t be healing any time soon. I will heal slower than a human until it's finally out of my system.

I clean the drying blood off my face and then push the needle through the skin just below my lip. The dude got me good. I can feel a stickiness along the middle of my back and slight pain. I’d be willing to bet that the wound, another thing leftover from my father’s punishment, has reopened during the fight. There’s not much I can do about that one now though, so I’ll ignore it and deal with it later. I can’t feel blood sluggishly running down my back, but my tank is black, so it’ll be fine for now.

I’m on the third pass of the needle through my lip when the door next to the row of sinks opens, and I turn to see who’s entered. Reaper stares at me in shock and, for some reason, worry. It takes me a second to realise why he’s looking at me like that.

“Fuck. Sorry, I'm nearly done, then I’ll be out of your way.” I say, realising that I’ve dropped down into a defensive crouch with the needle and thread, paused halfway through my lip.

“What in the underworld's name are you doing?” He bellows.

“Stitching my lip, one second,” I say, starting to get frustrated and trying not to react visibly to the mention of the underworld.

I quickly finish the job while he watches silently, clearly pissed about something, if his crossed arms and deep frown are any indications. I clear up quickly, making sure I pick up the letter, C4 and detonator, which I keep out of sight of the still stewing Reaper.

“There you go, all yours,” I mutter, barely restraining myself from calling him a dickhead and my voice even rougher than usual, thanks to all the talking I’ve done today.

I walk out of the door, planning to find my way outside so I can dispose of the letter. But, surprisingly, Reaper follows me out, muttering something under his breath.

“What’s wrong with you?” Loki asks as they all appear. I carry on walking. I’ve got no interest in listening to them bitch.

“I, she . . . Look at her damn face.” He finally gets out.

“Farren!” Rival calls, and I pause, having slowed my pace when Reaper started stuttering out of pure curiosity.

I slowly turn around. Ready to get this latest round of bullshit done with so I can go and do my favourite thing.

“Did you go to the infirmary?” Mayhem asks.

“That’s what I was trying to say. She stitched it up herself!” Reaper finally announces.

Loki raises his eyebrow in question as Storm just stands there watching stoically. I shrug in response, turn on my heel and walk out of the gym door. No one gave me a schedule, so I have no idea if I’m supposed to be in a lesson now or not.

“Where the fuck is she going?” Storm growls, and I hate that I like the sound.

Why do I like it?

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Mayhem replies.

I can still hear them, so I assume that they’re following me.

“Farren! We need to talk to you.” Loki calls after me.

“Busy,” I yell back, finally finding a door to the outside and pushing through.

I come out onto a large, empty expanse of grass. It’ll do. I carry on walking until I’m further away from the buildings. I don’t want to blow any of them up.

“Trouble, we’re trying to talk to you.” Storm growls as I bend down and set up the C4, placing the letter on top.

“You might want to back up,” I say, ignoring his previous comments.

“Why the fuck would I listen to anything you have to say?” He sneers, his eyes darting to my lip.

“Fine, don’t.” I shrug, walking a safe distance away, the others follow me, and reluctantly Storm starts to follow too.

I press the detonator before he’s completely out of the blast zone, causing him to fly forward and land on his face.

“What the fuck was that!?” Mayhem yells.

“C4,” I say, a smartass grin on my face.

“I can see that, but why?” He replies.

“Cause I can.”

“I’m starting to think that you’re not quite what we judge you to be,” Reaper mutters.

“No shit.” Rival replies.

“For fuck sake, Farren!” My uncle suddenly yells, appearing from the same door we came out from. “How many times do we have to have this conversation? Stop blowing shit up!”

“This is a regular thing?” Storm yells, just getting up off the ground as Loki starts bouncing excitedly.

“You told me to get rid of it?”

“Yes, in a normal way.” He replies, trying to hide his amusement.

His look darkens as he sees my stitched lip.

“You, okay?” He asks.

I see Rival studying us both closely. The guy is way too observant for my liking.

“I’m good,” I say, done with the conversation.

"Okay, we'll catch up tomorrow. I'm going to have to stay here and explain to the other teachers why there's a scorch mark on the lawn." He grins, this time not even trying to hide his amusement.

I nod and turn on my heel, walking back towards the school.

“Where are you going now?” Storm calls, sounding increasingly frustrated.

“To bed,” I reply, glancing at the dimming light.

“Don’t you want dinner?” Loki asks, frowning.

I tilt my head to the side, aware that I’m showing more emotion than I should be.

“Food?” I ask cautiously.

“That tends to be what people mean when they say dinner,” Reaper chuckles.

My frown deepens, not quite comprehending.

“Trouble probably only eats salads and food that costs more than most people's homes,” Storm sneers as he barges past me.

My anger rises again.

I’m getting sick of the fucking snap judgements.

Rival

I watch her as she glares after Storm. I’m not quite sure what’s crawled up his ass, but whatever it is, it’s preventing him from seeing what’s really going on and believe me, something is definitely going on. I admit that I had certain reservations about her at first, especially considering she’s so damn beautiful that she could throw this team into turmoil. I was expecting a manipulative, shallow, and entirely inexperienced woman.

What we got is someone who's overly cautious, is an incredible fighter, and she didn't even use her magic. I even got the feeling that she was holding back. I know for a fact that she let that punch through, but what I don’t understand is why? Pain doesn’t seem to bother her, and that worries me, so does the churning sick feeling in my stomach. Her shoulders and arms are covered in scars, and Supernaturals don’t scar that fucking easily.

Mystery surrounds her.

She looks confused by the simple offer of dinner, and I just can’t fucking stand it anymore. Storm wanted us to keep her at arm’s length, insisting that she’s not going to be around for long, and if we can convince her to leave, that would be better. I’m done though. There’s so much more going on here, and the spear has never made a mistake before. It's not just that though; I can’t deny the connection I feel towards her. It's not the same as the connection I feel with the others, but there’s no denying it, and I know they feel it too. That’s their problem. It scares the shit out of them.

“Come on. I’ll show you to the cafeteria.” I say, walking up to her and ignoring the others shooting me looks.

I’m right about this. I know I am.

She doesn’t say anything, just follows along beside me. Loki comes up on her other side, his arm brushing against her and causing her to tense. He steps further away, noticing her flinch before he shoots me a look, finally starting to pick up on what I am. An uncharacteristic frown crosses his features as he subtly inhales before his eyes widen, the worried look intensifying.

I raise my eyebrow in question, and he shakes his head, mouthing later at me.

We make it to the cafeteria without incident, leading her through the tables to the lunch line. Since it's midway through the week, we only have cold options like sandwiches, baguettes, salads and wraps available. She follows, but she looks unsure for the first time since she arrived. This time, I share a look with Reaper and Loki.

“Here,” Reaper says, handing her a tray and placing it in front of her.

Loki walks down the line, and she moves behind him, watching him like a hawk as he picks up a couple of sandwiches, some crisps, a chocolate bar and a bottle of blood.

“I can have anything?” She asks.

Her voice sounds a lot harsher than it did this morning, almost as if she’s not used to using it or even that it’s taken some damage.

“Yep,” Loki replies. “It's free.” He adds quietly, and I frown. It's hardly like she has to worry about money.

At least that’s what I thought until I see the relief briefly flash across her stunning features.

Fucking hell.

She picks up three sandwiches and a packet of crisps and, when she thinks we’re not looking, she places a couple of granola bars in her trouser pockets. It’s all signs of someone who doesn’t know where their next meal is coming from or when. I should know I’ve lived like that, and so has Loki.

She shouldn’t have had that sort of experience though. Something just isn’t adding up.

My mouth drops open in shock when we take a seat as she finishes her food within five minutes. I’d be willing to bet that she had timed eating when she was allowed to eat. I nudge the others, so they stop staring, and Loki clears his throat, looking at her as if he’s just realised something.

“You’re not what you appear to be, are you?”

“It depends on what you see.” She replies cryptically, a slight smile tilting her lips for a fraction of a second before it disappears. “I’m going to bed.” She pauses, looking us over. “Thank you.”

I nod, staring after her as she leaves. As soon as she’s out of the cafeteria, I turn to the others to say I’m not going through with what Storm wants us to do, but I’m interrupted by Reaper.

“I’m not doing it. Something is going on with her, and I want to know what.” He says firmly.

“Me too.” Loki agrees. “When I showed her the room, she was almost shocked, and for a brief second, her barrier dropped, and I could feel the sheer joy radiating from her. It was gone within a second though, and I assumed she was being sarcastic. Now I’m not so sure.”

“She just sewed up her lip right in front of me. She didn’t flinch, not once, and I couldn’t see any numbing stuff in her supplies. Not only that, but she actually thought I was angry at her because I needed to use the sinks. Not because I know full well that you have to be damned used to stitching yourself up to do it that quickly and without fucking flinching.”

“That’s another thing though; she’s not healing.” I muse. “Most supernaturals would have healed by now, even the weaker ones, and she can’t be that weak, or they never would’ve let her in here, magistrate father or not.”

“Come on. I’m not hungry anymore. Let’s go back to the room. She’s there alone with Storm and Mayhem.”

“You sound protective of her,” Reaper observes.

“I guess I am?” Loki replies, confused by his own reaction.

“Me too,” I mutter, and Reaper agrees with a nod.

“She’s bleeding,” Loki says quietly as we walk the halls.

“What?” Reaper asks.

“Farren, when I got close to her earlier, I could smell fresh blood, and it wasn’t from her lip; there was too much of it.”

“But there were no weapons allowed in the fight, and we would've noticed if she got an injury that large during it,” I say.

“No, which means she had the wound before the fight,” Loki says, a dark look crossing his features.

“Fuck.” Me and Reaper curse at the same time.

We need to get to the bottom of this.

We increase our pace as we make our way back to the room. Mayhem and Storm are lounging on the couches when we get there. Farren is nowhere in sight. A panicky feeling that I don’t understand starts inside me, and I frown.

What the fuck is happening?

“Where’s Farren?” Reaper asks, trying to sound casual, but there’s a tense undercurrent in his tone that has Storm frowning.

He points in the direction of her room, and I relax slightly, knowing she’s in there.

“Think she’s asleep.” Mayhem replies and I catch the worried frown he gives her door.

“Look,” I start, “I think we need to consider the fact that the spear has never gotten it wrong before, and she’s meant to be on this team. There’s something more. ..” I start, but Storm jumps up.

“No. She will never be a part of this team. She’s weak. She’s not even healing!” He exclaims.

I have known Storm ever since we were kids, and I can hardly remember a time when he showed emotion. But he has shown more brief flashes of it in the last few hours than he has for a very long time, and I can't help but feel that there is something he’s not telling us.

“Come on, man. Listen,” Loki tries, but it’s no good.

Storm is in no mood to listen to us and glares harshly before getting up and walking to his bedroom door, his stoic facial features back in place.

“What about you?” I ask my twin.

“I agree with you to some extent.” He replies. “Something more is going on with her, but I’m not sure it's our place to figure out what.”

He gets up quietly and goes to his own room, leaving the three of us in the living area together.

“Well, that went well.” Loki scoffs, hopping over the back of the couch and landing with a bounce next to me.

“They’ll come around. They need to.” Reaper replies.

“What’s the plan then?” I ask.

“Well, we observe, and we try to get her to open up to us. We can’t help her if she doesn’t trust us.”

“I have a feeling she doesn’t trust easily,” Loki says, darkness once again crossing his eyes as his past rises. “I recognise something in her that’s in me, and that fucking terrifies me.”

Without another word, he gets up and quietly makes his way to his room.

“That statement was more worrying than anything else he could have said,” I say into the silence.

“We’ll figure it out. We have to.”

The rest of the night I spend tossing and turning the unknowns about Farren driving me crazy and what’s worse is I don’t fucking know why I care so damn much.

**********

“Someone needs to wake up Trouble.” Storm mutters as he fills up his mug with his third cup of coffee this morning.

It looks like someone else didn’t sleep very well either.

“I’ll do it.” Loki offers.

Just as he’s about to knock on her door, the main entrance to the dorm swings open and in walks a muttering Farren; she shuts her mouth abruptly and darts her eyes to the side as if she’s looking at someone. My mind stutters over what she’s wearing, tiny running shorts and a tank. She’s got far more tattoos than I ever thought the daughter of a magistrate would have.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Storm says his only emotion is apparently anger.

“For a run.” She answers simply, walking to her room and closing the door behind her. A few seconds later, we all hear the shower turn on.

“Well, you can’t call her lazy,” Loki comments, making Storm scowl.

He strides up to her door and bangs on it. “We’re leaving in five minutes!”

He’s barely made it across the room when her door opens again, and she walks out fully dressed, raising her eyebrows at Storm and smirking. It's pretty clear that she enjoys sparring with him. There’s a change in her today, almost as if she’s made a decision.

“It’s weapons training today. Do you need to borrow a weapon?” Mayhem asks, and I'm glad to see he’s not sneering. I'm rarely at odds with my twin, and I hope that he sees what the rest of us do soon.

“No, I stored mine in the locker yesterday.” She replies, and she makes a beeline for the coffee.

She pauses just as she gets to it. “May I?”

“Of course, help yourself,” I reply, smiling softly. I’m rewarded with a small smile in return, and for some strange damn reason, it makes my heart hurt.

What is this girl doing to me?

Not just be actually but the others as well. She’s a mystery and one I want to solve.