King of Pain

J asper is such a fucking bore sometimes. His obsession with our makeshift family being perfect so we can execute some nebulous plan in a far off future is tiresome. I get it; our parents are mostly garbage. He wants to oust them and do better for everyone. It’s noble, but we’ve been hearing about it since grade school. Kit showing up has put a major crimp in his scaly tail and he’s doing the usual dragon shit, but it’s so much worse because of the plan .

Honestly, I’ve never believed it would work, but humoring him keeps things much more chill.

“Mr. Nocturne, do you need to refresh your blood sugar? It’s awfully early for you to be drifting off.”

Turning my head, I look at Professor Basquez, the literal old bat of the culinary program, with an innocent expression. Before we came to Discordia, I took summer classes in the program, so they know me very well. Probably too well since Basquez is glaring at me like I shit on her carpet. “No, Professor B. I’m good; I was thinking about the spawned lamb and spider egg couscous I want to make for dinner. That can go bad if you don’t plan every step, you know.”

She snorts, the action making her nose hairs quiver, and I have to fight off a shiver. “Keep your attention on the projects we’re making in this kitchen while you are in my class, Nocturne.”

I would, but her shit lacks imagination and flair, so I hate having to go through the motions.

My phone buzzes and I pull it out, sitting it on my thigh as I watch the messages in our group chat pop up. Kit has a free period and then lunch after this section, so Jas is driving himself insane figuring out who’s on ‘new kid’ duty.

He’ll be able to join the lunch at one, but he has to be in his office doing TA work for the first hour. It has to be chafing his tight ass something crazy, which is why he looked to see who else was free the first hour. O is, so is Zav, but Slash, Anton, X and I are out.

He’ll pick Zav—they’re thick as thieves and fucking like bunnies. O is a wild card.

“Mr. Nocturne, will you fetch the ingredients from the freezer?”

I look up at my cranky professor, nodding as I rise. She’s all of five-foot nothing and squat like a toad, so she does zero physical labor. Students constantly complain about her needing to retire, but she must have something good on old Lucian. I’m not a fan of having to be a hand servant for the woman, but if she’s got the headmaster wrapped, it’s likely she has hooks in the seven families, too. Bitching to our parents about the affront wouldn’t do any good. Not that I’m unwilling to help people—just look at all the little shit I’m sneaking to my new roomie—I just resent being forced to.

“What do we need, Professor?” I call over my shoulder as I open the large walk-in door. It’s filled to the brim with various premium ingredients, and I shudder to think how much Discordia spends on the supplies for the culinary program. It’s top-of-the-line because many of the students go on to work for elite families or royals; my attendance in it is a bigger controversy than anyone admits.

The court heirs do not take commoner jobs—I’ve been told a million times.

As if I’ll truly be working anywhere after graduation. None of us except Jasper and Slash will have labor intensive positions and we know it. I wait for my instructions, peeking at my phone again while the ancient bat shifter gathers her notes. Jasper is freaking out more than normal about Kit, and I don’t get it. Yeah, our parents watch every damn move we make, but having this kid in our group will not change who we are. He seems like a decent sort, honestly, and I like the little familiar running around with him. Plus, I feel sorry for him—thrust into a new world, no powers, stuck with the biggest assholes around, and expected to catch up to keep a scholarship.

“We need beast meat, bat wings, pomegranates, root vegetables, fear fish, and a selection of fruits,” she says.

I roll my eyes at the lack of creativity in whatever we’re doing today, but I’ll dress my version up on my own. Being as tied to food as the beast half of my demon form is, I’ve been cooking since I was old enough to reach the burners. I don’t need these classes, but it’s better than being forced to go through all the ridiculously boring business and governing shit I could be taking. “On it.”

Using the basket inside to shop my way around until I have what Basquez needs, I think about what I’ve seen of my new roomie so far. He’s very reserved and displays most of the signs human fosters do after a lifetime of being shuffled and likely abused in some ways. I know because I looked it up when I noticed Kit flinches when people get too close. You’d think it wouldn’t happen with other dudes, but I don’t know if his problem is sexual, physical, or both. It’s clear no one’s ever given a shit what he does or if he’s taken care of, though, because when I handed him the snacks, I swear I saw both suspicion and a tear in the corner of one eye.

Poor kid doesn’t know if he’s coming or going and now he has to deal with all of us.

I rarely take sides in disagreements in the caliphate—Slash and Zav are always behind Jasper. Everyone else lands on whichever option suits them and since there’s seven of us, I’m often the tie-breaker vote. I fucking hate that and abstain every single time. Discord isn’t my jam, and neither is being forced to decide things I don’t care about. It pisses Jas off something fierce because then they have to argue until someone else switches sides.

But I see how Oriel is looking at Kit and I think he’s going to adopt the kid as one of his shiny trophies—the crow in him adores that crap, though it’s usually objects, not people. Fortunately for him, I’m actually on a side this time and it is his—sort of. I’m getting fond of the floppy-haired little shit, especially the way he doesn’t let Jasper and Slash push him around. O will not get Kit to himself, which he’ll be pissy about, but I don’t care in the slightest. He’s my roomie and I like his little bear thing and his stupid messy facade. It’s different and interesting—so he’s going to be my project, too.

“ Mr. Nocturne ,” the voice cuts through my thoughts again, and it’s all I can do not to snarl in response.

Walking out with the basket of ingredients, I shoot Basquez a dark look. I don’t care what blackmail material she has, this shit cannot go on all year. She’s barely even spoken to the others in this class, yet she’s focused as fuck on berating me. I might need to get Zavida to do some digging on her. Maybe someone in my family shit in her Cheerios recently and she’s taking it out on the most accessible target. I don’t know what’s up her ass, but I refuse to have her interrupt my prime brain hours with her venom.

The panda part of me functions best from the time I wake until about four in the afternoon, then I get sleepy as fuck.

I’m not about to let this witch distract me several times a week during my highest brain function hours. That’s a damn waste, and it annoys me. If I have to, I’ll get Jasper on it, but right now, that’s like using a hatchet to cut a slice of bread. It’s overkill and I’ll keep it in my pocket for later.

Once I hand her the basket, I give her one last withering expression and head back to my prep table. It won’t take a lot of effort to make whatever she’s got on the docket with the stuff I brought out. I tune out her voice as she talks about the dishes for today, thankfully assigning someone else to distribute the ingredients. My phone buzzes again and I pull it out of my pocket to see what fresh hell is going on now.

Thief: Giving Kit the snacks was a good plan.

I’ll be damned. That’s not in the group chat; he’s texting me solo. Oriel never does this shit. So I consider my words, not wanting to set him off. When I figure it out, I respond.

Chef: No one has given him any information on this place and everyone else here knows what they need to in order to survive. It feels unfair and I don’t like it.

Thief: As his caliphate, we should do that, you know.

Chef: I do.

Thief: But we’re not, which sucks.

Chef: Yes.

Thief: I don’t like it.

Chef: Me, neither. But you know what happens when Jas goes off on tangents—especially paranoid ones.

Thief: Yeah.

Chef: What do you propose?

Thief: Secret squirrels.

Blinking, I chuckle as he brings up the term some of us used as kids when Jasper and Slash would get ridiculous vendettas against something or someone that dragged us all into the fray. A few of us would band together to fix whatever was pissing them off and save whichever servant or teacher or peer was being savaged for no reason. Sadly, Zav used to be part of it before he and Jas hooked up and he’s decided he has no opinions that aren’t approved by the Prince.

Point of fact, I give less than a shit about sexuality.

X and Anton have been openly together since middle school and I’ve dabbled anywhere I feel the itch. Hell, Slash is the only one who’s straight as an arrow. I think that’s more a product of his asshole father than true preference. I mean, we’re demons, after all. Sex is about pleasure and release more than procreation for us, so gender’s not an issue like it is for humans.

What I care about is that our friend refuses to be himself now because he’s into Jas. I don’t blame that on the Prince, either. He’s just a powerful personality and Zav has shitty ass examples of relationships in his family. His mom will sleep with anyone she pleases as long as they aren’t older than twenty-five. That shit killed his dad, so they separated and he lives apart from Zav and his mom with some bimbette. Like I said, bad fucking examples of attachment are to blame for his bullshit, not sleeping with Jasper.

A loud bang disturbs me, and I stop shredding the devil’s lettuce in my hands to turn and look at the source. Basquez is standing there with red-hot coals for eyes as her nostrils flare. Since I was doing my own thing, I don’t have a goddamn clue what she’s so pissed about. I put my vegetable down, turning to give a dark look at the hand that slammed on my prep table.

“May I help you, Professor?”

“I do not allow phones in my classroom, Mr. Nocturne!”

I give her a slow, snarky smile as I hold up the phone, shaking it a little. “Perhaps you would like to tell Prince Eversore I can’t respond to his questions? I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem for him at all.”

Her eyes narrow and I can tell the bat shifter is considering what she’s going to do. Jasper is a TA and a grad student, so she outranks him, but he’s also the Prince of Hell . Any outright disrespect might get her called in front of the royals or their arbitrators, which I doubt she’s prepared for. Truthfully, no one is, and this seems an awfully stupid reason to risk it. “Fine. Tell the Prince you need to finish your recipe and will be unavailable for the rest of my class, then get to work.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Not in a million years, Professor. If you want to tell Jasper Eversore to fuck off, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

That said, I go back to my prep, laughing to myself as she stomps away.

I mean, can you imagine? I sure as fuck can’t.