Start Over

“ D o you even know what day it is?”

The lanky kid blinks out of the trance he’s been in since Oriel showed him the eruption of scales on his arm. “What day is it?”

For fuck’s sake, what did those two tell him before we came in?

“You were out for two days. That’s why they brought Dr. D in to speed up the process.” I frown, hoping they at least conveyed that part of the equation. “He said he believes once your form completely emerges, such measures won’t be necessary most of the time.”

“Two days?!” His eyes flicker to each one of us, looking for the truth, and even Jasper nods. “So I missed the entire weekend of studying? Fuuuuuck.”

“ That’s what you’re worried about?” The Prince snorts and shakes his head, looking dangerously close to losing his temper.

I whip my gaze to his, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare. “Don’t.”

“What is with all of you? First, that fuckwad Lucian sends in a spy, then half of you decide to fall for his bullshit, and now we’re all tied to this weakling.” Jasper is fuming and unfortunately, I know why. Fear of his father and our end of the line goals being fucked up has him drowning in his own paranoia and angry misery. Kit is simply the convenient target for him to use as an outlet.

“Man, you’ve been the biggest asshole in the universe since Kit Kat arrived. This year was supposed to be about… our plans and our caliphate tightening the bond,” Oriel growls softly. “I get we didn’t plan for this and you hate that, but you have got to cool it.”

Jasper throws his hands in the air, looking completely unhinged as he stalks over to the bed. When I move quickly to step in his way, his eyes flash with gold and I let mine flash icy blue back.

“You will not hurt him. He’s already injured because you were in such a hurry to prove his treachery when the induction failed.” I’ve never stood up to my prince so publicly, but he’s allowing the abuse of his past to dictate his present. I know he doesn’t want to become his father and if I don’t stop him, he’ll do something he regrets. “As your second, I must prevent you from making a mistake that cannot be corrected.”

The four demons sitting closest to our new member narrow their eyes almost in unison and I know that despite Jasper’s nasty dig at dinner, I’ll have to show the side of me I rarely allow people to see. Turning to pin Zavida with my gaze, I bark, “If Kit was not meant to be in our caliphate, if he was fully human, would he have survived that nonsense?”

“No.” The Kitsuné has the grace to look ashamed. He should, because while Jasper and he must have discussed this, no one else realized the possibilities. “I’m sorry I stayed quiet, Kit.”

“You’re not forgiven.”

His angry words make me chuckle and I look behind me. “That fury will serve you well, little demon.”

“Don’t call me that. The only people allowed to call me things are Oriel, X, and Salem.”

Such fire for someone so clearly abused.

“I have helped you several times,” I remind him and he rolls his eyes. “Not enough? Then keep listening.”

“Fucking Lucifer’s hairy goat legs, not you, too,” Jasper snarls as he steps back. “What is going on with my people ?”

“We’re not people, Eversore. Thinking we’d behave like them is not a good strategy.” I shrug, giving him a toothy grin before I continue. “And you’re one to talk about strategy—being nicer to Kit would have gotten a lot more cooperation than your campaign of terror. Look at your brothers who chose better methods of learning about him.”

“Jesus fucking Christ in a hentai cartoon. What the hell do you assholes want to know so badly?”

We face Kit when he yells in frustration. His face is pale and his hands are shaking, but he’s sitting up in the bed with the little rodent clutching his neck. The air gets oddly tight for a moment, making it hard to breathe. Silence hangs as each demon thinks about his question, making his cheeks flush brighter with anger as the seconds tick by.

“Why can’t I find your digital trail?” Zavida finally breaks the quiet with the one thing bothering him. “I’ve broken into… ridiculous amounts of systems, used magic, and even passed through the royal servers. You’re like a ghost.”

The injured kid makes a pitiful growling sound—though it’s getting better—and thumps his fists on the blankets. “I. Don’t. Know. I’m not bad with tech, but definitely not a hacker or this place would not have been my only choice for college. As far as I know, all my records are in the normal law enforcement and human services department file storage like any other… kid.”

His pause was odd, and that gave Jasper the impetus he wanted. “Why did you pause before saying ‘kid?’ And why would it be in law enforcement files?”

I have a feeling this answer is very important.

“Because… because I’m having trouble admitting the whole ‘demon’ thing and…” He sighs and rakes his hand over his messy, dirty hair. “I’d be in both because of the other word I prefer not to have associated with me—victim.”

That startles all of us, though Kit’s favorite three grimace. They must know things the rest of us do not—or at least, pieces of Kit’s story we haven’t heard. Cracking my neck, I move to the end of the bed, sitting on it gingerly. My weight makes the mattress dip and I lose my balance, making Kit laugh softly. My eyes shoot up to his when the sound makes my insides warm. Maybe Jasper’s right about one thing.

“Tell us what you are able,” I say as he looks at me fearfully. “I will make sure your boundaries get respected.”

I mean that, oddly enough.

“I’ve had four foster families since the end of middle school.” Kit licks his lips, and the kinkajou squeezes him, which seems to help. “I had more before that—some good, some bad. Legend says I got dropped at some hospital as a toddler; who knows, though? Anyway, ‘victim’ applies to either end of the timeline, but more so to the years I mentioned.”

“I’m going to hate this,” Xerxes whispers before taking a seat on Anton’s lap.

Neither of them have had an easy time with their families, especially because of their sexuality and gender. But they know if we’re having a shitty parent contest, Jasper and Oriel win hands down, followed by me and Zav. We’ve borne both physical and emotional torment much worse than their bigoted asshole birthers—which is saying something.

“I sure as fuck did,” the kid mumbles as his eyes fall to his hands. He’s fidgeting with the blanket now, and I feel the anxiety ramping up around him. “Bad choices were made in that first year of high school and I was… attacked. It was bad enough to force the very uninterested fosters to shuttle me to therapy four times a week, which led to me getting the boot to a new home by summer. Each placement after that was its own challenge until I landed in Brett and Allison Jameson’s house before the beginning of my senior year.”

Jasper’s eyes widen as he connects the dots, and I shake my head. The fucking idiot didn’t realize all Kit’s weird behavior was tied to trauma, likely as deep as his own. Obviously, I figured it out and adjusted; I’m not as stupid as he intimated, and he knows that. I beat his ass for using my father’s method of emotional torture on me, especially in public, so we’re even.

But I didn’t tell him what I extrapolated and now he looks like a fool—punishment complete.

“Attacked how?” Anton asks. We all breathe a sigh of relief, because no one wanted to be the one to request elaboration. The prideful peacock can rarely keep himself from saying shit like that, though. He’s caring, but he also believes his needs trump civility.

Kit glares, then slumps, and my heart hammers in my chest. X is right; none of us will like this. My hand has a mind of its own, lifting to rest on his calf as I wait. I half-expect him to kick it off, but he doesn’t. He just keeps picking at the blanket while we sit in silence. “In the way you’re thinking, obviously. I was in therapy for physical issues for a few months, and I’ve been working through the PTSD and my high-functioning anxiety ever since. That’s why I…”

“It’s why you had the panic attack,” Salem murmurs. “And also why this dick knew how to help.”

That brings on another round of quiet, but while we’re all digesting his truth, the little rat comes skittering down Kit’s leg to look me in the eye. It’s weirdly intelligent, and I agree with the assertion that it’s a familiar. Holding one finger up, I squint as I wait for it to do something. A soft chitter echoes in the room, and before I know it, I have a goddamn rodent on my head.

“What the?—”

The smile that comes over our new member’s face is so bright I have to swallow hard to keep my thoughts in my head. “Dottie gives her blessing. Maybe I don’t need seven.”

Seven? What the fuck is he talking about?

Zavida shuffles over, surprising me as he damn near dances on his toes before he looks at Kit. “I’m really sorry. I was doing what I thought—well, that’s not important, but if you’re telling us the truth… maybe someone else hid your background.”

“Fucking duh,” Kit grumbles. “That’s what I’ve been saying, but Prince Prickface wouldn’t listen.”

A snort falls out of my mouth before I can stop it and they all stare.

“Traitors, all of you,” Jasper growls softly. “He might have a good sob story, but only he can verify it thanks to the missing files.”

“Uh, nope.” Our attention switches from our angry prince to the kid on the bed again, and he shrugs. “I’ve got a copy of every single piece of paper in my file from every incident. Part of my therapy revolved around being able to admit all the things that damaged me. I made the shrink request my entire foster care record and all the case file materials through FOIA. I’ll give them to Zav if I have to.”

My brow arches. I don’t know what that is, but it sounds important. However, his statement is very specific. “Only to Zav?”

His voice is raspy as he ducks his head again. “There are some… pictures I’d rather people not see.”

Oriel shoots to his feet, glaring at Jasper. “You’ll do no such thing. You’ve admitted to something painful that no one would make up. Salem and I witnessed your attacks more than once. You don’t owe him or any of us that kind of intrusion.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Salem says slowly. “I wouldn’t want some dicks I just met to have shit like that. It’s a bullshit ask, and I’m with O.”

X nods, then Anton joins him. “Us, either, I’m afraid.”

If I agree with them, it’s beyond the point of argument, but Jasper is going to freak out.

“I know you’re going to be pissy, J, but…” I sigh and scratch my chin. “I can’t get behind making him, either. No one who’s been violated like that should have to do it again to prove themselves.”

Zavida dances from foot to foot again, looking unhappy, but determined. “I don’t want them, Kit. It’s not a fair request.”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t you see that he’s using your?—”

Everything stops as a loud siren echoes through the dorm room like a klaxon, and I jump to my feet.

“Fuck, that’s the gathering circle alarm.” I get my shit together quickly, devising a plan before anyone else can even register the noise. “Salem, fetch Kit’s uniform immediately. Oriel, find the hidden weapons and distribute. Zav, hack into the alert system for info.”

Kit just gapes at me. “What the hell, Slash?”

“He’s my general , you dipshit,” Jasper smirks. “I only called him dumb to piss him off. You should try playing chess with this giant fuckface.”

“Or Go,” X mutters.

“Poker,” Anton grimaces.

“Warhammer,” Zavida says with a pout. “It’s all ridiculous, and he sucks.”

Grinning with all my rows of teeth, I shrug. “It’s who I am. I can’t help that you’re all handicapped by three-dimensional thinking.”

“Someone better tell me what the gathering circle alarm is. I can whip Slash’s ass in games later.”

“You wish, little demon.” I take his animal off my head, passing it to him as I stretch my arms out. “But I’ll humor you with a few rounds. For now, this alarm means we have to gather in the summoning circle in the stadium. Since there are no events or lectures today, I do not know why, and I don’t like it.”

Jasper nods, sharing a look with me. “Agreed. I’m going to get my things. Someone help him not look like our weakest link, please?”

He strides out with a flourish and Kit mumbles some vulgar curses he must have picked up during his classes.

I suppose even in Hell; you adapt or you die.