Unsteady

W hat the actual goddamn fuck is with this place?!

I thought maybe I was imagining shit because I’m tired when Jasper…transformed… but since he left; I realized I was wrong.

Salem guided me to the professional grade kitchen someone installed in his enormous dorm room without a word. That didn’t phase me so much—rich people get many perks. But when he handed me a bowl and spoon to mix right before he grew five sizes and turned into a weird panda like reptile thing, it sort of clued me in that something is very wrong about Discordia.

Of course, I could be stuck in some Lost-esque fever coma, but I don’t think so.

Wherever the hell Discordia actually is, it’s not in some secret rich people enclave in a valley. There are people with magic fucking powers here and they seem to think I know all about it. No one’s acting like it’s strange or unusual for Jasper to sprout back spikes or Salem to become a giant furry bear thing. My secret is less shocking than theirs, but I feel they won’t think so.

Swallowing hard, I put the bowl I’ve been mixing down as I watch the black and white guy. “Uh, so it’s mixed. I’m gonna toss my stuff in that spare room and then I’ll come right back?”

“Aces, dude.”

He goes back to chopping something on the cutting board, humming under his breath as I slink away. I grab my duffel and go into a room I can tell held more of Salem’s stuff before they gave it to me. It’s small, like an extra office and the furniture is basic but livable. I can do something with this space, even if the circumstances of my attendance here are now in question.

The entire universe as I know it is in question, so it can’t get much worse.

“Are you coming back?”

Cringing at the bellow, I drop my bag on the bed and pull out a snack for Dottie so she doesn’t snitch things from Salem’s cooking. He doesn’t seem nearly as put out by me as Jasper did and I want to preserve what little leeway I have with the… whatever he is. “Yep, just feeding my kinkajou. One sec!”

I close my eyes, gathering my strength again. No matter what this place is or how much my world has changed, this is better than being at home with the twins and the Jamesons. I can do this; I’ve survived being violated and the foster system. All I have to do is maintain distance and focus on the task at hand—graduating with a damn degree. Dottie curls up on the bed with her dried fruit and I run a hand through my shorn locks, taking a moment to replace my freaked out expression with a blank one.

Now I’m ready.

“Hey, sorry. I just wanted to make sure she doesn’t snitch any ingredients,” I say as I rejoin the huge guy in the kitchen. “What do you need me to do next?”

His lips quirk, and he sniffs the air for a moment before winking at me. “You’re not a terrible liar in terms of body language and expressions. But your scent gives you away immediately—you should know that by now.”

I don’t let his words affect me, but internally, I’m screaming. How in the hell am I going to keep this shit secret if they can smell me? “I don’t follow. What am I lying about?”

Salem pauses his whisking, putting the bowl down to pad closer to me. “I’m not a mind reader—though there will be plenty here who can. But you’re pretending not to be scared and freaked out; that scent is unmistakable, even though my shifter side isn’t a predator. There’s a hint of other things buried as well, but since I’m not as familiar with your realm, I haven’t quite placed them.”

“I was feeding my pet; I swear,” I reply, rubbing my hand over my arm like he’s making me feel badly. I know how to play with emotions, and this guy isn’t as rough-edged as my so-called guide. “As for freaked out, this is a new place and I have an anxiety disorder.”

That should ratchet up the sympathy, so he quits digging into me.

All it gets me is a snort. “Humans, man. They fuck up even the strongest of our kind, I goddamn swear. ‘Anxiety,’ my ass. It’s your fight or flight in overdrive—likely since you hit puberty. And now I know your secret. Jas will reward the hell out of me for this.”

Turning back to his cooking, Salem hums and I allow my mask to drop for a second. If he knows, I’ll get expelled. That might be Jasper’s goal, but it’s sure as fuck not mine. I have to find out why this guy seems so pleased with himself. Why does he even care? I’m just a roommate, for fuck’s sake.

“What do you mean, you know my secret now?” I stomp over to the counter, grabbing the bowl to mimic what he’s doing as I glare. “What secret?”

“The secret is you don’t know.” He grins and pours his ingredients into another bowl, starting on that next. “You’ve been stuck up there your entire life, living with the meat bags, and no one’s ever told you. Gotta say, not shitting your pants is kind of impressive. Jasper even had his spikes out and you didn’t bat a lash.”

“I don’t know what ?” I growl, hoping it sounds like an angry guy rather than a pissed off mouse.

Salem heaves a sigh, putting his bowl down to turn and look at me. “About the supernatural world, dude. Stop pretending. You had no idea Discordia was a demon college and everyone here is pure demon or a hybrid. Which means…”

Frowning, I stop as well, tilting my head. “Which means what?”

“Whether or not you like it, you gotta little D in you.” He bobs his brows and guffaws at his own double entendre. “Of course, if that’s your thing, there’ll be plenty of rainbows to chase here. Supes aren’t nearly as tight assed as the peeps you’ve been living around.”

Rainbows? Demons? Supernaturals?!

I swallow hard and pick up what I was mixing, hoping my mini-panic attack isn’t as…smelly…as my lies. Salem isn’t being an asshole, but he’s not being helpful, either. Figuring me out was probably his assignment for the cranky fucker who brought me here, and now he’ll get a pat on the back while I’m having a heart attack. The universe really has something against me—it threw me in the deep end with the sharks again.

I didn’t know how right I was about the shark comment until Salem and I finished the cooking. Between the two of us, we made several trips to a room almost at the end of the hallway to set it up. When we were done, he flopped into an enormous chair opposite two other big ones—including one that looked suspiciously like a very comfy throne.

Within moments, more guys filed in, displaying many wild enhancements that would have made someone less capable than I gawp. A gorgeous, willowy dude with sharp serpent fangs and golden locks like a Greek god wandered in first, hand in hand with another beautiful guy with colorful chunks in his hair that made it look like a peacock’s feathers with rainbow accents. They draped themselves in the middle of the gigantic couch, studying me with gold and sapphire eyes. Next came the ironic bit as a ridiculously large, buff guy with a fucking shark fin on his back and a mouthful of hungry looking teeth.

Shark guy eyed me like I was getting shit on his furniture, so I guess it’s his room. A smaller, darkly hot guy with hair like a raven’s wing and shifty eyes came in next, taking the seat closest to mine as he studied me in all his pop punk glory. No one said a word to me or Salem, and the anticipation was so thick I started chanting my mantras in my head to keep my blood pressure from spiking.

I know enough about biology to realize my temperature rising will strengthen whatever scents these fucknuts are getting from me, so I gather every bit of willpower I have in me to control my body’s conditioned response to panic.

The surly older ‘tour guide’ with spikes walks in, immediately shutting his mouth when he sees me. His companion is significantly smaller than even emo dude and he might be the most adorably hot nerd I’ve ever seen. His red hair is streaked with artful white highlights and his emerald eyes glitter behind black frames that only make him more attractive. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says ‘Touch Some Grass’ with a picture of a Minecraft block on it and I have to restrain myself to keep from laughing.

I’ve always envied people who can be serious gamers.

The closest I’ve ever gotten to being a real gamer was foster family number two, when I worked in an arcade for a year. I was in therapy hardcore for the incident and working there allowed me to lose myself in other loud realities that drowned out the noise of my flashbacks. I would have done it with family of three or four, but alas, arcades are few these days.

Grouchy Tour Guide, aka Jasper, looks over at me again, then at the table of food I helped Salem fill. “Good job with the refreshments, Salem.”

My giant panda lizard roommate gives him a lazy grin, but jerks his head at me. “Kit here helped a shit ton. He’s not so bad in the kitchen.”

I feel every eyeball in the room move from him to me as he speaks, but no one says anything. I cough and shrug, keeping my gaze away from directly looking the crew of men in the face. “No worries. I’m used to helping.”

That’s all you get, you rich dickfaces.

It seems like the silence hangs for an interminable amount of time before the dark-haired punk grins broadly. “Good to know. These fuckers are useless at it except for Salem. We should test out the results.”

His words snap the rest of them out of whatever trance the panda shifter’s words put them in, and they shuffle over to fill a plate in small groups. I wait until everyone, even the dragon-dinosaur-whatever leader gets his, then I quietly walk over to pick a few items from the spread. I don’t recognize some of it, which makes me very concerned about the ingredients—what the fuck do all these demons eat, anyway—but I take enough to tide me over until I can hit my stash in our room. When I sit down, they’re studying me again and I wonder if I fucked something up by waiting. I don’t have a clue what protocol people follow here, but I’ve never once been in a foster home where they didn’t expect me to serve myself last.

It’s not like every foster family in existence treats their fosters like unpaid servants, but I guess I was lucky to hit the jackpot four times.

I pop a weird, dough-covered puff thing in my mouth, chewing for a moment while they all stare at me like a bug under glass. It’s not bad; in fact, it’s tasty in a savory, meaty way. Once I swallow, I scrunch my shoulders and look at them. “What? Was I supposed to wait until you ate, too? If so, someone’s going to need to tell me the rules I need to follow.”

The gorgeous fanged guy looks aghast as he turns to the golden god one and they seem to communicate without words for a moment. When they’re done, he tilts his head eerily, moving in a very serpentine fashion. “Why would you need to wait to eat… or even to get your food, for that matter?”

Jasper rolls his eyes and huffs in his chair, looking annoyed that another person spoke to me directly. I clench my jaw, recognizing his regal asshole shit for what is, but I also don’t want to be rude to the guy who asked me a direct question. Fucking trapped. Great. Pausing for a moment as I decide how much of my story I want to give them, I reply, “I’ve lived in a lot of homes. Every place has its own rules and expectations when there’s a family unit. Things often go more smoothly if I am given those boundaries from the start, so I can respect the wishes of those I’m sharing living space with.”

“Satan’s balls,” the gothic guy who spoke before mutters. “What the fuck are those assholes up there doing to our lost ones?”

That gets him a confused look from me, a glare from Jasper, and expressions of agreement from the two on the couch and the redhead. Big guy and Salem don’t look surprised or concerned, but they don’t look angry, either.

“Uh, I don’t know what that means,” I say with another shrug. “But when your home isn’t really yours, you just go with the flow.”

A light goes on in the eyes of the rainbow-colored handsome guy and he snaps his fingers. “Foster system. Of course!”

Giving them all a look like they’re mentally deficient, I nod. “My entire life.”

“Well, that explains a lot ,” Jasper rumbles as he narrows his gaze at me, then looks at the redhead. “You should have known.”

Anger flares in me and I sit up, unable to continue listening to them all act like I’m barely present. “Why? Why should… whoever the hell that is… have known? Were you doing background on me or something? You motherfuckers!”

Jasper laughs darkly, arching a brow. “Of course we were.”

That’s when I really lose my grip.