Page 42 of Quiet Burn

“Wait up,” I growl, hurrying to get even with him. He’s whistling a bit as he eats the rest of the bar and it makes me think my suspicion is correct. “You know I have to stay with you until I drop you at class, then Oriel will pick you up for the lunch period.”

“Slaaashhhh. I know that,” he says as we come to the doorway to his lecture hall. “But I have lots of energy now—which is what you guys want—and I don’t want that to fade during class. Alabaster is a pain in the ass, and I want to be on my toes to spar with him.”

He pulls the door open and I give him a stern look. “Kit, be cautious how much trouble you stir up when none of us are present. And keep the chat open for emergencies as you have in the past.”

Dottie chitters at me, holding her fist in the air and I wait until Kit nods his agreement. Allowing him to head in, I keep watch as he chooses a seat in a corner where no one can get behind him and he can see the entire room. It calms my ire a bit that he’s making certain he’s safe, but I also dislike that he had this overdeveloped sense of self-preservation before he came to Hell. His extreme caution tells me how violent his past assault was, and how much we don’t know about the aftermath of it.

I don’t like that, either.

As I walk away from the hall, I pull my phone out, opening the chat that does not include Kit. I also dislike speaking about him behind his back, but there are things he is not ready for and my brothers and I must discuss.

Enforcer: Package delivered.

Prince: I don’t think we need codes.

Thief: I disagree. Code words are always useful.

Hacker: No one is getting into your phone, Oriel.

Thief: No shit, Zav. I’ve got your encryption plus levels you’ve only dreamed of.

Hacker: Thieves are such braggarts.

Enforcer: This conversation has gone off-track.

Chef: I’ll say.

Spy: Slash, why did you text? It’s not to confirm you dropped Kit off.

Enforcer: Because I want Salem and Zavida to look into what species and magics might be especially sensitive to crunkleberries.

Chef: His snack bar?

Enforcer: Yes. It made him much… peppier… and slightly bawdy, which is unusual.

Thief: I miss everything good.

Prince: Bawdy?

Enforcer: Focus, all of you.

Designer: This is a lot of discussion for a research request. Perhaps you’re all angry Kit has classes we are unable to monitor? If so, you’re getting weird, guys.

Prince: That’s it; everyone back to class.

Rolling my eyes, I shove my phone back in my pocket as I cross the quad to get to the arena. I’ll see the Prince at my Weapons & Tactics session, and now that he's grumpy again, I’m not looking forward to it. The Prince gets very irritable when anyone points out that we need to give Kit breathing room, and I believe it’s because Jasper doesn’t know how to do that with someone he gives a shit about. He runs our caliphate by keeping tight reins on everyone, and we allow it because we’re used to his gruff way of showing that he considers us important.

Being the Prince helps, too, of course.

But the little demon is never going to let Jasper wrap him in bubble wrap until he’s able to defend himself. How any of us are going to convince our leader to be okay with the newest person he’s hyper-focused on protecting, I don’t know. Zavida is fucking him, so he doesn’t balk at the possessive bent to Jasper’s nature. This is a different situation entirely—for now—and if I can work out how to get the two of them to stop spitting at one another, maybe we’ll all have a good time at this idiotic party in a couple of days.

It is not the Yulemas, but miracles can happen even in Hell if you try hard enough.

Oops I Did It Again

Kit/Kat

The next two days go smoothly, which makes me even more nervous about this ridiculous fucking dance on Saturday. Excited whispers amongst the guys disrupt every class, and it helps me fade into the background, even to the professors who hate me. Unfortunately, as grateful as I am about the ability to blend in when this big ‘kick-off’ event has the school buzzing, my anxiety is going nuts. Between maintaining my secret and avoiding being cornered by any number of malignant forces, it’s a lot.

---