Connection

K eeping Salem awake was a challenge—Oriel was right. Professora Romero is lively and engaging, if not a little snooty, but the minute she turned on the screen and dimmed the lights, it was a battle. I wanted to focus on her lecture about the history of verbal storytelling at its earliest roots—especially since I didn’t grow up attending schools that teach this material. I needed the review of the oral and pictorial origins of demon lore and the subsequent literature. However, the hulking, cuddly panda next to me kept laying his head on my shoulder. His face buried in the crook of my shoulder, a rumble of happiness setting in when he dozed.

My body couldn’t decide if I should panic at the touch or warm from head to toe with fuzzy, sparkling sensations that made me squirm in place.

Every time I had to elbow him awake, my mind went cuckoo with relief and regret. My anxiety spiked and I could barely hear the lecture to take notes as I worked through my exercises mentally. Oriel seemed to notice, though he did nothing to stop it, but I saw him taking diligent notes. I highly doubted someone as smart and observant as he needed to, and when he handed them to me at the end of class, I gave him a relieved smile. He reminded me that the caliphate takes care of one another and sauntered off with my roommate, leaving me to head for the amphitheater to meet Xerxes.

I know little about them other than they focus on design and clearly have a very intimate relationship with Anton. The two of them are stunning separately, but together? I don’t know how I’d handle seeing anything more than PG shit. It makes me feel weird because I’ve never been overtly sexual since the incident—in fact, the opposite. My new ‘gang’ is brimming with smug, entitled rich kids, but I can’t deny how they affect me.

Even that fucking asswad Jasper’s bullying control shit is hot and I hate feeling that way.

“Get your shit together, Kit,” I mutter under my breath as I speed walk across campus. “You’re not here to be a giggling twit fawning over hot dudes. This place is a means to an end. You have to survive it—that shit will only lead to trouble. Besides, you’re a boy , and the few that seem interested in that menu are taken.”

Dottie pops out of my bag, climbing onto my shoulder and chitters softly. I reach into my pocket to pull out one of the small snacks Salem sent for her, smiling to myself. Her tiny hands grab it quickly and I chuckle. The panda might not stay awake in class after three p.m., but he definitely got the reserve food idea right. I’ll thank him when I get to dinner—if he’s even awake and present.

The Discordia Arts I enjoy being able to leave that at the steps a couple of times a week.”

Holy shit. X isn’t just gorgeous and talented; they’re perceptive as hell. I need to watch myself.

“Sorry,” I reply as my face flushes. “New things can be overwhelming, especially crowds of people. I’m better now than I was years ago, and once I get more comfortable, I’ll be less awkward.”

They tilt their head, frowning for a second, then realization lights in their eyes. “Oh, shit. You’ve had severe trauma. Humans are the fucking worst .” I swallow hard as an arm twines through mine. “Don’t fret, baby demon. I’ll introduce you to people and make sure you know who to avoid and why. That will make Prince Pissypants’ edict about this activity less terrible.”

Dottie peeks around my face, looking at X curiously for a second, then lifts her tail towards them. I lick my lips, understanding that she’s approving of the golden demon’s offer. “Okay. That would be really helpful. I don’t want to be a burden, though.”

Snorting, X shakes their head. “I do not offer crash courses to anyone I don’t want to. If it was a burden, I’d let you flail about on your own like the awkward trout you are.”

Well, okay then.

As promised, the flirty demon helps me survive the first drama production meeting without having an attack. If I thought they were talented when I arrived, the ease X had with keeping me calm was almost god-level. I’ve never met anyone able to soothe my internal voices the way they did. It’s a goddamn miracle.

“Now we’ll head to the Triclinium to eat dinner today, but we’ll only take the evening meal a couple of times a week at the beginning of the semester. Jasper says we establish a powerful presence to start, then we can taper off. On the nights we don’t go there, everyone will meet in your room because Salem makes the meals.”

My brows furrow as I look at X in confusion. “But he falls asleep at four?”

The laugh I get is rich in amusement. “Yes, he does. I forgot you had to deal with that before you showed up at the Circle. Our snoozy bear is awake instantly if food is involved, trust me. His passion in life is cooking, despite how parents like ours see it, and it’s one of the few things that will keep him from being the lazy bastard he is.”

I can see that. He’s very intense in the kitchen and enjoys sharing it with others.

“I see. So… you guys always eat together? Like… all the time?” I wrinkle my nose. This group does a lot together, and I don’t want to feel claustrophobic right off the bat. I’m used to keeping to myself unless I absolutely have no choice. Now I have a pet, a roommate, and seven other people breathing down my neck. It’s going to make me paranoid and nervous to have so many eyes on me constantly.

They stop at the door of the Triclinium , grinning broadly. “Baby Demon, you’re adorable. Yes, we stick together as much as possible because that is what caliphates do. It’s a built in support system, a brotherhood, and a promise to band together as one against all enemies. You should… oh, shit .”

My eyes widen as X gives me a panicked expression. “What? What? What did I do?”

Xerxes’ head shakes, and they squeeze my forearm. “Don’t get all twisted. I just realized you don’t get this stuff because we’re mega assholes and didn’t induct you or explain.”

I do not know which of those terrifying words to address first.

“You are mega assholes,” I mumble, going with snark first because it’s my go-to. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that every word in that sentence scares the fuck out of me.”

“They don’t need to.” X pauses, then reconsiders. “Okay, maybe a little because you’re new to this world, but I promise no one will let Jasper do anything awful. This is important and even he won’t fuck it up by being a dick—it would be like pissing on an altar.”

“That serious, huh?” I squeak out, trying not to let the fear of weird closed door rituals make me fly off the deep end. “What does it entail?”

X tilts their head at the open door, and I sigh, walking inside of the elegant dining hall. They follow, taking my arm again to steer me towards the food service area. “Virgin sacrifice. Blood. Screaming goats. That sort of thing.”

I blanch. “ What? Humans were right ?”

That earns me another rollicking laugh, and I have to force myself not to pout in irritation. When they stop snorting, X leads me through the line, suggesting various oddly named dishes. When we take our trays to the expansive table from this morning, they speak. “I was joking , Baby Demon. Yeah, there’s some chanting and ritual shit. A little bloodletting because we’re fucking half-demons. But no one is ever a virgin by the time they bond with their caliphate and farm animals would be smelly.”

My face heats with my embarrassment at my na?veté. I don’t want to tell Xerxes that in terms of consensual sex, I’m most definitely a virgin. That’s a truth I’m not comfortable admitting to someone I barely know; hell, I can’t even discuss it with my therapist without having a PTSD flare-up for weeks. So I nod, giving them a weak grin. “Ah, I see. And I need to do this?”

“Absolutely. It might even help us get your magic to come out.” X pats my arm. “Just let me do the talking with the big guy, okay? I can usually make him see sense, and even if not, I can get Zavvie to do it for me.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I nod again. “Okay. I’ll try to trust you.”

“Now we’re off to the races.” They wink and guide me to the table where Salem, Anton, Jasper, Zav, Oriel, and Slash are all waiting. “Evening, gentleman. I have a proposal for the table.”

Why do I feel like this is a firing squad?