Page 78 of Quiet Burn

His brow raises when I don’t add a snarky comment, but he recovers quickly. “Fine. Then all of you head for the practice armory and select a weapon you feel most comfortable with. For this assignment, there areonlyblunted and tipped weapons available. If I catch anyone circumventing that precaution like before, you will fail this class for the semester and be unable to continue the Games prep in an official setting.”

Wow. He means business; that means he suspects something will go very wrong.

“It will be okay,” Salem says as he nudges me toward the armory area. “Just pick what feels the most comfortable, Kit Kat. Focus on the now, not what might happen.”

I snort as I look at the rack of shit I can’t identify, passing that up as too advanced for me. Oriel nods sagely, but he grabs a gnarly looking bladed thing that looks remarkably like a Klingon bat’leth. “You are a complete nerd, “ I mutter to myself as I wait for Salem to grab a long wooden staff thing that might be a demon-sized bo.

“What did you say?” Anton asks as he gestures for me to continue looking with him as the other two peel off.

“Nothing,” I reply as we head into more familiar looking territory. I don’t think I have the arm strength for a mace by any stretch, but they’re cool as fuck looking. “I was just grumbling.”

X gives me one of their bright smiles. “No need to grumble, Kit Kat. There’s plenty of choices.”

Yeah, for people capable of handling these damn things or imbuing them with magic—I’m royally fucked on both counts.

“It’s intimidating when you’re smaller like us,” Zavida says as he comes up behind me.

Noting Anton picking up a large bow and quiver, I sigh. “It’s not entirely size, Zav, and you know it.”

He nods, guiding me me further down the line of weaponry. “I do. However, size and strength and even magic are never a match for brain power, even in Hell. Jasper protects me because he wants to, but if I had to, I could outwit people who came after me. Letting him feel as though he’s keeping me safe is part of our dynamic.”

I know what he means by that and the images make my stomach tighten.

“I, uh…” I feel the flush creeping up and curse under my breath. I’ve never in my life spent more time blushing like a regency socialite until I got here and had to deal with these assholes. I fucking hate it, but I know it’s because they affect me more than anyone ever has before. “Um, well. That’s… comforting to know?”

Zavida winks at me, then gives me a shy smile. “I know I’m still earning trust, but I think honesty is probably the only way to getit. Sometimes, that might be a little much because I’m not good with shades of gray.”

“I get that,” I respond earnestly. “People are a pain in my ass to figure out sometimes.”

He chuckles, nodding at Xerxes holding up two handfuls of what look a lot like throwing stars but in an odd symbol-shape I don’t recognize. “See? X loves to use magically enhanced talons. That doesn’t require a lot of physical strength—though endurance is a thing—and like you, they don’t want to engage in close range combat.”

I frown, tilting my head. “But I’m good at close range fighting.”

Zavida shakes his head. “You’re good in this setting where people aren’t allowed to fight full-tilt dirty. We won’t know how your skill matches with your PTSD and anxiety in the real setting until it happens, Kit. We have to develop some long range options.”

Fuck, he’s right.

Sighing, I look at the remaining weapons again. “Well, I’m going with the throwing knives then. Light and in multiples to give me at least twenty-one feet to have other options, if someone has a short range projectile weapon.”

“Kit, that statistic only applies when demonsaren’tusing magic to enhance their weapons,” Zav whispers. “You gotta ditcheverythingyou know from the humans about fighting. Demons and hybrids have options you never dreamed of. Start from the beginning and assume anything in the universe is possible.”

Before I got here, I would have loved to hear that phrase; now it makes my ass clench.

Desperate Measures

Jasper

Idon’t like this one fucking bit.

My lunchtime routine was disrupted by that slimy little shit, Beccarus, who came to my office as I was leaving for theTricliniumto join my caliphate. He stood there looking smarmy and pleased with himself as if being associated with Darkstar somehow made him more than a lesser demon I could crush with one hand. When I finished reading, he held up a hand, daring to stop me from speaking to inform me that the contents of the missive were non-negotiable.

The instructions called for me to stay in my office and prepare for this new lesson, which means I’m hungry as fuck and four times as angry. But I’m doing the best I can not to let it seep through when I’m dealing with my brothers, especially the newest one that I promised to be less mean to. It’s difficult not to wield my fury like a weapon when everything I’ve ever learned in my life has taught me that’s an acceptable way to burn off the fire in my gut. Emotions like this make my dragon yearn for the sky and destruction, something I could give into at home, but not at Discordia.

Now that everyone has their goddamn weapons, my dragon is even more disgruntled as I look out at the class. I can feel the burning in my eyes that tells me he’s struggling with my demon for control. I can’t let him have it because not only is my dragon formnotcompatible with a classroom setting, he also hates damn near everyone in this realm other than my caliphate. Since the shrimp hasn’t met him yet, I have no idea how that will go and I sure as fuck don’t want it to be a public affair.

“Jasper?”

My frustrated musings are interrupted and I whirl around to roar, but I see Zavvie standing there giving me an understanding expression. Trusting my caliphate to protect me, I give the students my back and look at my kitsune. “I don’t want to do this. It’s going to go badly.”

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