Page 69 of Quiet Burn

The main hall is busy, buzzing with students as they gather materials and settle in at tables and computers. It wouldn’t be here; Kit would hate this mess. Frowning, I look again and disregard the lower floors. After his incident, he’d only go down there if he had a specific thing to find in the ancient stacks. I think they went up, but I have to Sherlock Holmes my way to their location.

“Not the magical archives—Kit wouldn’t be looking that up just yet. The floors with fiction are also unlikely; they will be busy and filled with demons looking for something to occupy their free time.” My eyes scan the rest of the list and I grin triumphantly. “The floor under construction that has historical and religious texts. That will be quiet and mostly deserted, plus it seems to have an area by the construction that used to be a reading alcove.”

Pleased with my detective work, I head for the stairs. It’s not a long climb and I can’t control who is on the other side of the doors if I take the elevator. When I exit the stairwell, I should be able to see through a window to verify my targets aren’t within visual range. I take them two at a time, noting I’m getting cardio in as well, which is convenient. I like efficiency, especially when it’s beneficial to me.

At the doorway to the top level, I peek through the window and note that I don’t see either of my targets nearby. I slip in, making sure the door shuts quietly as I recall the layout of the floor from the map. Remembering the terrain is also something I’m very good at—I’ve been sent on many missions in the Wastelands to test my survival skills by my Father. My navigational prowess is superb, so I didn’t end up getting lost while I fetched whatever bullshit he pretended to want. It is helpful right now and I hate thinking I should be grateful to the grouchy asshole.

Slinking over to the tall shelving, I make my way towards the alcove I believe they are in carefully. The stacks provide a lot of cover, even for someone of my size. I’m able to get close enough to see them huddled against overturned furniture, sitting on the ground as they chat. Kit looks less stressed as he leans against the chair, and O is facing him as he leans back on his hands.

“They all feel so… cold and distant,” Kit says as he picks at the weave on his pants. “Every once in a while, like with the clothes thing at lunch, I see glimpses of how it was before. But it’s short and then they’re all closed off again. I didn’t mean to upset everyone by letting you and Salem go first. You’re both just… you know. You were nice from the beginning and didn’t let Jasper push you to be a jerk. It made it easier somehow.”

Well, fuck. That explains everything. But what do I do about it?

Hot to Go

Kit/Kat

The time in the library with Oriel helps ease my tensiona lot. He’s a good listener, and he lets me ramble before he steps in to gently correct the wild thoughts my brain comes up with. By the time we get up to leave for Weapons & Tactics, I feel almost normal. The ability to spill all of this shit without someone judging is very similar to therapy sessions, and I really needed to say it out loud to process it. He just smiled when I told him so, and my heart did that fluttery skip as I get Dottie and my bag.

“What fresh hell do you think we’re in for today?” I ask with a rueful grin. “I can’t imagine Jasper will be any less cranky.”

Oriel ruffles his hair and I’m surprised when I get an urge to fix it for him. His sigh is defeated as he guides me to the elevator, then hits the button to go down. “Who knows? Jas has always been mercurial, but he’s worse since you arrived. You get under his scales and he has no idea how to respond.”

Tell me something I don’t know, buddy.

“I know that, O, but I’m not giving him a pass when he’s a dickwaffle just because he has the emotional depth of a bagel.”

The crow shifter snorts, shaking his head as the ding announces the doors opening and we get out. “I love the way you phrase things, Kit Kat. It’s both amusing and fearless, no matter how much that isn’t how you feel inside.”

This time, I’m amused. Following him to the doors, I inhale as we step outside. It’s weird, but the part of Hell we’re in doesn’t have gross, inferno-esque air. No, it’s fairly normal smelling, even though we’re surrounded by lava pits and fucking Wastelands. I assume it’s magic, now that I’m thinking about it, but the fact that you could mistake this place for normal if you ignored the scenery is very weird.

“That hidden fear is why I make sure I’m recklessly confident on the outside. As long as I keep the panic and anxiety shit under wraps in public, people think I’m a ballsy asshole. It’s a mask, just like the one Dank wears, but less literal.”

He arches a brow at me, tilting his head in the bird-like fashion. “Do you wear it with us, KK?”

I ponder that for a second, then shrug as we head across campus towards the arena. “Sometimes? I find it easier to do so when the entire group is around. It’s a lot of people and I’m still getting to know everyone. Plus, Jasper’s an ass, so there’s that. I don’t feel like I have to do it when I’m in smaller groups or one-on-one.”

“That’s good. I’d be upset with myself if I wasn’t giving you a safe space to just be yourself.” He chews on his lip ring briefly, then grins a little. “I’m used to feeling like the odd one out because I tend to hang back and watch; it’s in my nature and definitely my first response to any situation.”

“Gee, I never noticed.”

The huge building looms over us as we approach and I shiver. I don’t like this place, but we got a text saying the entire class would be held on the field today. That tidbit is why I wonder if the Prince will be in a shittier mood than at lunch, but since everyone but Slash is in this class, he didn’t expound. It made me glad Oriel and I were relaxing away from the fray for the free periods, that’s for sure. Not knowing what the hell is going on is one of my anxiety triggers and these damn Games with their random announcements have kept a low-level of it buzzing in my head for weeks now.

“I’m not a fan of how they’re dribbling info, either,” Oriel says and I give him a shocked expression.

Did he read my damn mind? I hope to hell not.

“Get out of my brain box, dude,” I mutter as I enter the door at the locker room entrance. “It’s weird in there and I don’t need any help from you.”

His laugh is soft and he winks at me. “I’m not in your head, Kit Kat, but I can see the tension ratchet up when you think about this stuff. You get stiff and uncomfortable looking. I don’t know how to describe it, really, but I know when I see it.”

“Okay, fine. I’m concerned about the abrupt change of plans. It hasn’t worked in my favor so far—remember the bruises and shit?”

Grimacing, Oriel tugs open the locker room door and we enter. The rest of our caliphate, minus Jasper, are already there, in various states of undress. I stop short, completely bojangled mentally, and O taps my shoulder.

“C’mon, KK, we don’t want to be late.”

Um, yeah. Don’t want to be late while staring at the naked hot dudes, Kit.

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