Secrets

T he rest of the meeting passes by in a blur. Most of what they discuss is above my head, but I figure I can ask Salem later. He and Oriel seem like the safest options based on their behavior so far. Anton and Xerxes are ambivalent; I’m not sure how to read them accurately yet. Zavida might be an option, but he’s clearly very devoted to Jasper, so I don’t know what will be shared with the ornery leader. It’s clear Jasper and Slash would rather I fall off the face of… wherever we are. No one has mentioned it yet, but it feels safe to assume Hell is the answer.

I’d rather not make a fool of myself by asking to confirm though.

They referenced my being ‘lost’ more than once and my time in the foster system several times—I gather they believe my actual parents were hiding me or exiled from this realm. I’ve been keeping meticulous notes in my head of the terms and phrases I don’t recognize so I can look them up in my textbooks. Worst-case scenario, I can hit the library on campus. The brochure had a map that showed one and though my phone isn’t supposed to work here, Oriel asked Zavida to meet me later to do something that would give me access to their internal internet on my devices.

The devil is literally in the details, I suppose, because everything here is crafted to prevent humans from being aware of the truth about demons and other supernaturals. I can understand why; humans don’t even treat their own kind well, much less people this different. If they knew all the creatures and beings from myths and stories were real, they’d lose their fucking minds. As a species, we’re not the most adaptable, no matter what evolution suggests.

It occurs to me I said ‘we,’ but the guys were acting as if I’m not actually human, but some sort of hybrid like them.

Not calling myself human will take some getting used to. I’m not sure I believe it, anyway. In all my years on earth, I’ve never displayed any kind of weird powers. Even during my… incident… nothing happened. I couldn’t stop him. Isn’t that the kind of situation where some latent superpower should have taken over to help me? That’s what always happens in books and movies, but it wasn’t my experience. I was alone and helpless, like always.

Afterward, they moved me from place to place, year after year, until I ended up with the Jamesons. The excuses were all bogus and vague—as if there was some invisible stench coming off me to put the families off. I frown as I enter my new room, wondering if those people could sense I wasn’t what they said I was. Was it my ‘otherness’ coming out and making them want me out of their homes? My anxiety always told me something was wrong with me, which is why I kept my distance. But now I’m wondering if this supernatural shit was the problem the whole time.

I’ll never know; it’s pointless to speculate. I need to focus on current Kat problems, not shit I can’t fix.

“You okay, dude?” Salem looks up from where he’s packaging the leftovers from the meeting in various containers. “You spaced out at the end and we couldn’t get you to snap out of it.”

My face turns bright red. Small fugue states where I’m unresponsive because my anxiety is so high aren’t uncommon and I should probably warn him about it. It’s normal because of the PTSD, but not everyone understands. It freaks people out to see me frozen like that and I don’t want to be even more of a burden to guys who don’t want me here to begin with. “Um, I’m sorry. I should tell you a few things about me since we’re roommates. You know, so I don’t cause problems.”

The white-haired demon looks at me curiously, his dark black eyes shining. “Sure, man. But don’t feel you have to reveal a bunch of personal shit because Jasper is a dick. He’s used to being the big man because of his dad and it’s hella easy for him to go overboard with it. Most of us just take it in stride at this point.”

Good to know, but I doubt I can be so flippant about his edicts.

Licking my lips nervously, I drop onto the couch, leaning over the back of it to watch him work. “Understood. But this isn’t because of him, per se, but it affects you as someone I share space with. I’d be a giant asshat if I didn’t warn you about my shit. You’ll be the most likely person to witness most of it and I don’t want you unaware.”

That gets his attention and Salem stops fiddling with the food to lean against the counter. His expression is serious as he nods. “Okay, shoot.”

“I have PTSD and high functioning anxiety. There’s other stuff, but those are the things you need to know about. My triggers are varied, so most people can’t just intentionally work around them. I’ve been in therapy for years and I take medication, but my symptoms freak people out. The semi-fugue thing you saw at the meeting is one of them—I space and don’t respond until it’s over.”

His expression softens a little—I think—and he rakes a hand through his locks as he blows out a long breath. I wait and wait, trying to control my rapidly escalating blood pressure while he processes my confession. Finally, the panda shifter looks at me again. “That changes things, Kit. I need to share it, and I want your permission to do so.”

My eyes widen. “No, no! I don’t tell people this. I’m only telling you because you might see me unglued in this room. I don’t want anyone else to know; it’s a weapon.”

“Kit…” Salem groans as he rubs his hand on his face. “I can’t keep secrets from the caliphate. We’re sworn to honesty. Jasper will lose his fucking mind if he finds out I sided with you on this.”

“ Please , Salem,” I beg, gripping the back of the couch as my hands shake in fear. “You don’t understand. I can’t tell you why I have this, but it’s bad. And I really don’t talk about that. If you tell them, I’ll be interrogated and I won’t be able to… function.”

“Merciful Beelzebub, this is a mess. How did Zav miss this shit?” he grumbles as he crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s slipping because of all that fucking gaming.”

I frown and shrug. “Medical records are well guarded in my realm, and mine are registered with governmental services. I guess he’d have to be digging deeper than he’s used to.”

“You think he’ll find them if Jasper is making him go deeper?” His expression is thoughtful. “If so, I can keep your secret until he uncovers it. That way, I’m not holding out for long and you’re not being questioned. Your files should have the complete story.”

It won’t because they’re looking for the wrong name, but I can pretend for now.

“I can live with that,” I murmur as I let go of the cushions. His concession is allowing me to breathe better and I’m pretty sure I can survive the rest. “You have a deal.”

After I helped Salem finish the food, I trudge back to my room and shut the door. Dottie rockets towards me, climbing onto my shoulder, and wrapping her tiny arms around me. My eyes close and calm washes over me when she’s back at my side. I didn’t realize how much I depended on her presence until just now. Somehow, in the few days since she showed up at my window, the little kinkajou solidified her place in my life and I felt wrong without her.

I just didn’t know it and now I have to adjust to needing her to be part of my routine.

“I’ll be damned. Jacquelyn was right about companion animals. Too bad none of my homes would have accepted one,” I grumble under my breath. “I might have had a lot fewer problems with people if I’d had you to help me cope.”

Dottie chitters softly, and I walk over to the bed to sit down. This has been a hell of a day and my mind is full of questions and new information that I can’t parse it. From the time we left the Jameson’s to now, there’s been this flood of stuff demanding I pay attention and respond with no time to process. My eyes close and I let Dottie scamper onto the comforter before I flop backwards.

“How am I supposed to deal with all this at once? Demons, shifters, magic… It's too much.” Rubbing my hand over my face, I groan when I realize I have to unpack, so I’ll be ready for tomorrow. “I don’t even have time to work out how this changes things. I mean, if I make it through this, what happens then? I can’t possibly go back there and pretend I don’t know.”

No one is here to answer that, so I sigh and push back up to look at the boxes of stuff that were here when I arrived. My meager suitcase is sitting there, too, and I chuckle. The crap the school provided more than triples what I brought with me and I have no idea what all of it is. This will take some getting used to—my advisor seems to think I require far more belongings than I’ve ever had before. I wonder how much of it is necessary and how much is typical rich people’s junk?

“I have to dig in and find out, I suppose. I’ll need the textbooks and uniforms for tomorrow.” Dottie gives me a happy look I take as agreement, and I force myself to stand up. “Let’s see what they put together for me and make my room less crowded.”

The first box has five crisply pressed uniforms comprising dark pants, a white button-up, a tie, and a blazer. It appears freshmen wear black jackets and accented ties. If my research into private prep schools is correct, I believe the other levels will wear different colors to denote their years. Outside of Jasper, the other guys have the same blazer as me, but theirs are trimmed with cerulean blue because of their caliphate. Just another thing to make me stick out when I’m with them and piss Jasper off. I don’t know what he’ll wear as an adjunct, but I’m sure it will be fancy as hell, so everyone knows how freaking royal and cool he is.

I pause, hanging the pieces in sets when that thought flitters across my mind. Why am I so angry? I barely know the douche. Sighing, I finish my task and shake my head. I’m always prickly when I first arrive in a new home as a defense mechanism, but this is more than that. I’m actively pissed that he hates me for no reason, and normally, I don’t give a fuck. His instant dislike rankles me because it’s not fair. I have done nothing to earn the disrespect; in fact, I'm at a tremendous disadvantage.

I’m not a challenge to his power, so he shouldn’t care.

“Stop being so needy, Kat,” I mutter to myself as I unload stacks of thick textbooks. “You’re here to get an education, not make friends. All you have to do is survive four years, come out with a degree, and this will all be behind you.”

“Hey, are you talking in there?” The knock on my door is gentle, but it scares the shit out of me.

Breathing hard as I barely keep from shrieking, I wait until my heart stops thumping before I answer. “Uh, maybe? Who’s there?”

It’s not Salem, because I feel he would have opened the door without knocking. The person laughs softly and says, “I’m opening the door, Kit. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Holy fuck, is this guy a goddamn mind reader?

“I’m empathic, yes,” the red-haired demon replies as he peeks in the door’s crack as it opens. “I can’t hear your thoughts, but when you let your guard down, I can sense your emotions.”

Gaping at him, I find a Discordia tee shirt on the top of the next box and throw it at him. “Rude!”

He catches it and shrugs before placing it on my folded pile. “I don’t do it all the time because you’re right—it’s very intrusive. But I couldn’t figure out how to approach you after the meeting. You seemed upset, and I didn’t want to make it worse.”

I blink, licking my lips as I study the quiet gamer. “What kind of… thing… Are you mixed with that gives you that ability?”

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “Oh, Kit. Man, don’t ask anyone that. It’s considered extremely rude—more than my little faux pas—and some people will lash out without giving you a chance to apologize. I don’t care, so I don’t mind telling you. As for the other guys, you’ll have to let them tell you in their own time.”

Frowning, I pick up my tee shirt pile and take it over to the dresser to stack it neatly. “Good to know. I’m still waiting on that damn rulebook.”

Zavida smiles shyly. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I sent you a bunch of files, but then I realized I need to get your tech settled or you can’t access them. Salem let me in and told me you were in here unpacking. I could do it while you’re working, if you don’t mind company.”

Shit. He’s awfully cute when he’s being nice. I have to watch this one.

“Okay. Just make a little noise. I can be jumpy,” I mutter. I know I should tell him the stuff I told Salem, but one person’s pity is enough for today.

“Great. And I’m part empathic shifter, by the way. My other line is portal demons because of how we’re tied to the gateway. The Kitsuné is my mom,” he says as he heads to my desk and starts pulling stuff out of his messenger bag.

Turning back to my suitcase, I pick it up and put it on the bed next to Dottie. “You didn’t have to tell me all of that.”

“I don’t mind. You seem like you need a friend. Most demons aren’t trustworthy, so I’m showing my belly first.”

Huh. I didn’t expect this at all.

Once I get the joggers, shorts, and other sporty gear in the chest, I take a deep breath. “I was talking to myself. I do it a lot because I’m used to being on my own. Moving from home to home and school to school means you don’t have time to know people well. The people in the homes resent another kid taking up resources and in school, there are typical hierarchies. So I got used to being solo.”

His brows furrow, and he tilts his head. “You have a familiar, though.”

“A what?” I frown.

“Your kinkajou? It’s your familiar, right?” Zavida pushes his glasses up on his nose as he rises from plugging in his gear. “It probably helped a lot. Not everyone gets one so young, especially since you didn’t even know about our world.”

Dottie leaps off the bed, using box stacks to get over to the desk, and looks up at him indignantly. I smile a bit when she seems to bitch him out in animal chatter. I guess she wasn’t ready for me to know that yet. “I didn’t know that was her function. Dottie showed up in my house, trying to steal stuff from my foster parents, a couple of days after my invitation to Discordia.”

“That’s really… odd.” The cute red-head scratches his chin. “I need to think about that before I comment. Do you have your computer and stuff? I’ll work on it while I mull this over.”

I hand him my phone first, shrugging. “It’s all really basic. I don’t know how well it will work with whatever is going on here.”

“Uh, try not at all.” Zavida puts my cell down and pulls his out, pushing a few buttons before he says, “We have a problem with Kit’s tech. None of it will—yes. I understand. I can do it before tomorrow if you—Yes. Thanks, O.”

I give him a suspicious look as I pull my older laptop out of my suitcase and he shudders visibly. “What’s Oriel going to do?”

His smile is wicked. “What Oriel does best. Just wait and see.”

That doesn’t seem ominous at all.