Chapter Six

I always thought I was young until I got around actual young people…then I realized I was old and could really go for a nap. And now, surrounded by teenagers, I felt really old.

It had been far too long since I'd been in a school, and I sure hadn't gone to one this nice.

Harrison slowed in front of me, allowing me to catch up.

"Did you go here?" I asked as we approached the main door. It was still early, so the day hadn't started, meaning kids still milled about.

"Of course."

"Because you're rich?"

"Among other reasons." The subtle lift of his eyebrow told me the other reason.

Often, Spirits went to private schools like this one, at reduced rates for those who needed it. The Spirits who inherited their skills needed extra help, and the human children of Spirits often required additional understanding. Things like full moons could cause havoc in a pack household, after all.

"Nice place." Stone covered the outside of the enormous building, reminding me of the old-school Ivy League universities. It made sense because, for those who wanted it, this place was basically a pipeline there. Still, compared to my school, which had used portable buildings that remained there for thirty years, it was a whole different world.

Then again, when I spotted the kids, it wasn't as different as I'd have excepted. Sure, the kids drove fancy cars or had drivers who dropped them off. They wore designer clothing, had expensive phones, and all around had things I had only ever dreamed of. Still, despite all that, the underlying behavior was just like every other teenager.

They complained about their parents, about their teachers, about their schoolwork. They gave Harrison and me side eyes, and no doubt they snickered about the new people on campus.

So it seemed no matter how much money people had, they were, at their core, the same assholes as the rest of us.

Harrison held the door open for me, the chivalrous act strange. Still, I didn't need to draw more attention to myself, so I walked through. The interior of the main office mirrored the other décor. Marble floors, fancy decorations, expensive artwork on the walls. It was like a five-star hotel except for the spoiled brats who went there.

Not that I bet they realized just how lucky they were.

"Would you please refrain from looking as though you are casing the joint?" The way Harrison said that last part forced me to resist the desire to laugh. He sounded like a terrible parody, trying to emulate a criminal but having never lived such a life.

"I'm not trying to ‘case the joint'," I pointed out. "Though, if I were, there's some nice shit here." As soon as I said that, a student turned their head my way, as though the curse word drew her in. I smiled and shrugged, to brush off her surprise.

Harrison merely shook his head and continued walking, taking the lead since he hadn't given me details. Sure, I knew we were going to work at the school to try to find some sign of the person selling Cloud—and use that to find the person making it—but beyond that?

Not a fucking clue.

I didn't love being out of the circle when it came to plans, but I also didn't love that condescending look Harrison liked to give me when he didn't appreciate me asking too many questions.

What was it about the men in my life that they felt the need to constantly underestimate me?

At least it meant I could get in close if I ever needed to bury a knife in them.

"I don't think I care for that smirk," Harrison said despite not turning around. He couldn't have possibly seen my smile, could he? Or, hell, for all I knew, maybe he was just that good at guessing what I would do or how I would react.

Either way, I didn't remove my smirk. If he didn't care for it, maybe he shouldn't have acted in a way that made me feel as though casting him out in the middle of the ocean was a completely viable communication plan.

We stopped in at the main desk, but the receptionist seemed to know exactly who he was. She handed over two name badges with our photos and names already on them— when the fuck did he get this picture of me?

I stared at it for a moment, then cursed.

The asshole had taken this when I'd fallen asleep on the couch the other day, hadn't he? Damn it, I hadn't been feeling well and that should have been a sacred time! Worse, because pictures didn't work well for me, it was smeared and barely recognizable.

Once the bell rang, the hallways emptied. The sea of kids disappeared, leaving the previously packed spaces now abandoned. Only the rare slackers still appeared, and fuck, those were my people.

Harrison and I followed a guidance counselor who took us on a tour of the school grounds. They were even more massive than I'd expected, honestly. Despite having a fraction of the kids compared to a public school, it was easily four times as large. The school filled that space with a few tennis courts, massive learning facilities and a cafeteria that could have had its own spot on the best places to eat. This was more resort than school.

"So, Mr. Harrison, you will be in room forty-three."

I snorted. "What are you teaching?"

Harrison didn't respond—fuck, he didn't even turn my way. Instead, the counselor answered for him. "He is working as a special lesson instructor for social-emotional learning."

I cocked my eyebrow at Harrison, trying to ask without speaking.

He turned, as though he heard my expression aloud. "I will be fine."

"Wasn't you I was worried about," I muttered, keeping my voice low enough that the counselor wouldn't catch it.

Harrison narrowed his eyes, then turned his back on me to end the conversation.

Still, while I wasn't besties with Harrison or anything, I knew him well enough to guess he wouldn't endanger a bunch of kids. If he said he could handle it, I trusted he could.

Not like I had other choices.

"And what am I teaching?" I asked, immediately picturing everyone calling me Ms. Keystone and looking at me like some sort of authority. Oh, the things I could teach kids!

The councilor stuttered—never a good sign—then spoke slowly, without meeting my gaze. "I wasn't told you were coming on as a teacher."

"I'm not? Then what am I doing here?" I peered over at Harrison, wondering just what nonsense he'd come up with. "Please tell me I'm not a lunch lady or something."

"Not exactly…" the counselor said. "You'll be a proctor."

"What the fuck is a proctor?"

She actually flinched at the curse word, like it had leapt from my lips and slapped her in her face. "That means you will oversee the children when they are not in the classroom. During passing periods and lunch, for example."

I frowned as I made sense of her words, then cursed again under my breath when I figured it out. "Wait a minute. You're telling me I'm a yard narc? Me? " I looked over at Harrison, trying to get some back up for how ridiculous an idea that was.

And for one of the rare times, he smiled. Well, it was a curl of his lips so subtle others might not notice the change at all. I sure did, though. "Well, I thought if anyone could connect with delinquents, it would be you."

My response was just one finger, and I had a feeling he could understand that without any of his powers.

* * * *

Kids suck.

The longer I spent in the midst of them, the surer I was about it. I used to hate the way old people bitched and moaned about the younger generations, but right about now?

As I watched two kids throwing bottles over and over again, trying to get one to land upright, I shook my head. Either kids were getting dumber or I was just old.

Today marked the second day of so-called work. Harrison got play the part of respected teacher while I was supposed to keep order outside of the classroom, which felt more like wrangling wild animals than anything else.

Also, I said so-called work because I sure as fuck wasn't doing that. Who cared if the kids were chewing gum or making out? I wasn't getting paid nearly enough to play cock-block for teenagers.

Wait, am I getting paid?

I had better get paid for this nonsense.

Of course, if I found out I wasn't…

I thought about all the rather nice items I'd spotted lying around. A few of those would sell for enough to make wasting my time worth it.

Across the way, someone caught my attention.

Maybe it was my passenger—my crow—or maybe it was just my own personality, but I could always tell when someone was up to no good—especially if they were nervous about it. It was something in the way they walked, the way they held themselves, and my senses zeroed in on them like that first sniff of coffee in the morning.

Sure enough, across the quad, one such kid darted their gaze around as though watching for a tail. Of course, they were shitty at it, because they didn't notice when I got up from my place and headed their way.

The kid—a girl who looked far too uncomfortable to be some career criminal—moved past the line of buildings toward the undeveloped area near the fence line. For how nice most of the school was—complete with greenery and lawns that had to cost a fortune to keep up in the desert—the outer areas were as trashy as any poorer area.

I peeked around the corner of the building to spot Little Miss Innocent standing there with a boy.

If this was yet another hook-up attempt, I was going to be pissed.

"Do you have it?" the girl asked, her voice soft and nervous.

The boy smirked—and boy did I recognize that look. He was the one used to being in trouble, the sort who thrived on it. He was my type of person and far more promising.

The boy lifted one of his dark eyebrows. "Depends. Do you have the money?"

The girl nodded and reached into the back pocket of her jeans, then pulled out a roll of bills. The twenty on the outside suggested it was a couple hundred dollars.

Clearly, I'm in the wrong damned profession.

He grinned wider, like the money was some aphrodisiac. He didn't have a trace of uncertainty, as though the idea of selling her something dangerous didn't even scrape against his conscience. He reached into his own pocket, then pulled out a small baggy with a clear crystal substance and a sticker of a lion on the front.

Bingo.

I didn't wait any longer before leaving my hiding spot. I mean, I was dealing with teenagers here—not hardened drug dealers. I didn't need to be quite as careful as I might otherwise.

Not that I ever was.

In fact, a part of me heard Galen's voice in my head, lecturing me about my bad choices.

Neither of the kids noticed my approach—they really weren't equipped for doing shady-ass shit like this, were they?

I plucked the money from the girl's hand and the baggy from the boy's.

"What the fuck?" the boy asked, reaching out for the bag I'd stolen as though he might snatch it back.

I twisted, keeping it out of his hands and ignoring the fact that even as a teenager, he was a lot taller than I was.

The girl, at least, had the good sense to look afraid. Not that I'd hurt her, but the thought of someone ruining her perfect little life was more terrifying. I could almost see the way she thought about everyone finding out what she'd done, her parents getting pissed, all of it.

However, given the way she reacted, I doubted she'd done this before much. That made her pretty much useless for my purposes.

In fact, I had a feeling the longer she remained here, the better the chance of her fucking it up rather than helping. For that reason, I motioned to shoo her away.

"You're just letting me go?" she asked.

"Unless you want to stay here and have me ask more questions?" I lifted the baggy, waving it to draw attention to the evidence that would not help her in the least.

She shook her head and hurried off just as fast as her little designer-jeans clad legs could carry her, leaving me and the boy alone.

"I knew that girl was a mistake," the boy said and crossed his arms, looking put out by the entire ordeal. Even now, with the drugs in my hand, he didn't seem worried.

"You want to know a secret? Don't sell to girls who could play the lead in a teen drama. Never ends well." I lifted the baggy toward the sun, watching the way the light poured through the crystals. They were clear, which twisted the sunlight until it came out in rainbows.

If I didn't know exactly what this shit could do, the pretty sight might have dazzled me.

"So what now? Did you let her go because she has such a bright future?" The boy snorted. "Not the first time I get the blame for everything."

I tore my gaze from the crystals to peer over at the boy. "Please. That girl will get knocked up by some rich boy and be unhappily married within a year of graduating—trust me. Besides, I'm not planning on turning you in, either."

"Why not?" He narrowed his eyes, and his suspicion confirmed that the boy wasn't stupid. Only an idiot would blindly trust someone in my position.

Especially because I still planned to use him to my own ends.

"Because I need some information from you."

"What kind of information?"

I waved the bag at him. "Who supplies this to you?"

His mouth shut, as though he were afraid the name might escape through his lips and he couldn't let that happen.

In addition to that, however, a spark of fear rested in those eyes. Clearly, he didn't want to tangle with the person.

Given they evidently created a dangerous drug and used kids to sell it, it was probably pretty fair to be wary of someone with so few scruples.

He swallowed hard, then shook his head. "Sorry, but that information comes with way too high a price. I'd rather face another suspension than risk that."

I flicked the baggy. "You sure about that? Because last I heard, this shit is pretty risky. The Minds don't look too kindly on people who sell this."

He swallowed hard, his gaze darting around as though he'd just realized I wasn't merely some yard narc. "You know what it is?"

I tried to stop myself—I really did—but a shudder ran through me as I recalled the way it had felt when someone had sifted through my thoughts with the gentleness of someone forcing tomatoes through a sieve. "Yeah, I sure do. The leader of the Minds seems pretty pissed about this shit."

The boy shifted dirt with the toe of his boot, the first real break in his composure. "It's not like I sell to Minds on purpose. In fact, I try to avoid it."

"Why would other people use it?"

"It works on all Spirits, just not as strong. Gives other Spirits a high and a very mild affect—just enough to sense other's emotions. Not nearly as addictive to them, not as dangerous. That girl just now, she's a nymph."

"And you?"

"Were," he muttered.

"You're a wolf?"

"There's more Weres in the world than just wolves, you know," he muttered, the annoyance in his voice enough to make me laugh. I sure as fuck understood that, after being looked down on for not being one of the big four. It helped me to understand him a bit more.

"Boy, do I know that," I said, thinking about all the others I'd dealt with—including how I fit into the world. "How long have you been selling?"

He shrugged, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I've always sold whatever people can't find. It was candy and soda when I was a kid, cigarettes later, but now people want more."

"So now it's Cloud?"

"There's a market for it, so why not? Not like I force anyone to take anything or trick them. If they don't get it from me, they'll get it from someone else. What are you, some do-gooder who's here to tell me what damage it's doing by selling? You should stay off my ass."

"What's your name?"

"Trey. You want to give me some heart-to-heart about how my choices are going to ruin my life?"

"No. You want to ruin your life? Go right ahead—better you do it than someone else. This shit, though? It's dangerous," I said.

"People make their own choices—"

"It's dangerous to other people. The first time you feel the way a Mind on this shit picks through your brain, you can sit there and tell me it's not a big deal." I tried to go for unaffected, but just talking about it made that old headache come back, the pain through my temples a sure sign that I was far from over that little ordeal.

The boy had the decency to look bothered by my words. However, pity wasn't something I wanted—and sure as fuck not from some kid—so I shook my head to clear the memory and the mood.

"I'm not here looking to pin anything on you. You're a dealer—no offense, but you're small fish to me. I'm after the person creating this."

He sighed. "Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't. The person who makes it, they don't exactly go around announcing themselves, you know? That's a fast way to short career when it comes to drugs."

"So you don't know who they are? How do they get you the product, then? How'd they even find you?"

"I meet up with them when I need more. I pay upfront for the product, then price it as I want and the profits are all mine."

"So you have a number to contact them?"

"Nah. I just leave a note at a dead drop, and they call me the next day with a meeting location."

"So you've met them in person?"

He nodded, then frowned. "Sure, but I couldn't tell you anything about them."

"Why not?"

He scratched his temple, gaze troubled. "I don't really remember. It's like he uses a filter of some sort, and I can't remember most of the meeting."

That sounded strangely like my own powers, but I'd never met anyone else like myself. According to the asshole who made me, there weren't any more like me around.

That suggested it had to be a Mind Spirit, didn't it?

It also meant the boy wasn't all that useful, at least in terms of information.

The disappointment had me tapping my foot as I considered my options. I could try to get the boy to contact the supplier, then follow him to the meeting. However, if it was a Mind, they'd probably spot me before I could do anything useful. In fact, it was possible that their powers would impact me as well.

But would it affect Harrison? As an exceedingly powerful Mind, he could probably resist anything someone else did.

However, given that they usually could spot one another, he'd probably get spotted well before we could make our move.

Which meant what I really needed was to have a reason for the supplier to come to me.

I pressed my lips together, an idea hitting me. It had to be one of my worst ideas, all things considered, but that was a pretty low bar already.

The boy took a step backward, as though he could just read on my face how much he didn't want to be a part of whatever I had planned.

Which was fair.

I'd done a lot of fucked-up shit before, things I wasn't all that proud of, but who knew that my next step would be becoming a drug dealer myself?

Talk about moving up in the world…