Page 96 of Rebirth Of Order
“I’d rather not say,” Gina voices, curling her hands into tight fists. “Regardless, once we’re eternals, he won’t be able to keep his hands off me.”
“We have this in common. She’s going after my crush, Horus, so I’m with you taking her ass out. Unlike Ethan though, Horus loves my nudes. I can tell when he sees them. In fact, look.” She pans her phone in their direction. “I sent him two this morning. Before and after my orgasm.” Paige’s face gleams with lust.
“By the Gods, Horus is fine as hell. Those dimples almost had meremoving my panties.” Tish giggles. “Before you two bond, you think he’ll be willing to have me join for a night of hard thrusting?” She smiles, dragging her eyes over Paige.
“Girl, hell yes. First, we need Kyra out of the picture.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll have that bitch dead before this semester ends.”
They must be joking. I can’t have this much bad luck in one damn day. It’s only my first official day, and I’ve already accumulated five fays wanting me dead, all for different reasons. How the fuck am I safer here than in the mortal realm? On top of everything, there is this bullshit about me wanting their men.
Still kneeling, I feel my palms warm with a red glow, bringing forth a sigil. I vanish, fighting this alarming urge of anger as my skin itches with frustration.
The scent of fresh fruits linger as my magic disperses. “Finally,” I yell, back inside the living area of my new dorm room.
Facing the front door’s entrance, there is a massive window engulfing the wall to my left, overlooking a balcony. A fancy onyx sofa-set is placed in front of the window on top of a black marble floor with streaks of gold throughout, matching the walls.
A mounted TV is also left of my entrance, hanging above an ignited fireplace, flashing beautiful embers of green. And on my right, an elegant study space sits with a bar area beside it, containing a large fridge with an even larger bar top.
Being on floor five has its perks, wide hallways leading to our rooms, no congregating students–unless in the common area of floor one–and no one ventures beyond their floors, besides visiting another student.
There is one more floor above me, reserved for House Death’s strongest members, but with a balcony view like mine, who can complain.
Most of all, I have a sigil now and can avoid everyone.
Heading towards my room in the back, I see the spa-like bathroom awaiting. Heated floors–a walk in shower–garden bathtub–and a mini room-sized closet are further in. This entire place is lavish.
Angie assisted in procuring more school clothes, workout uniforms, toiletries, and of course, underwear. But since awakening my magic, money is not an issue, and I can toss out those crotchless panties.
Okay fine, I’ll keep a few. They’re cute, and I’m not trying to hurt her feelings.
I close the door of my room for an extra layer of protection against unwanted visitors, strip off my clothes, and prepare to shower.
Practicing my magic results in an abundance of shower gel, hair supplies, and skin care. All worse than the other, burning my skin, too thick to lather, and even rancid in smell. But I’ll eventually make one good enough to use.
I make quick work beneath the boiling shower. Stepping out, I wrap myself inside a thick black towel that is soft against my skin.
Retrieving a pair of panties–charcoal seamless boyshorts–out the closet, I pull them on along with an ebony hoodie. House Death’s words trail down my sleeves with its symbol printed on the back, a serpent, wrapped around a large broadsword, biting its tail. Comfy.
I wrap my hair, concealing it beneath a satin bonnet, then jump into my king sized bed. Though I don’t need the extra space, it sure as hell is nice to have. A window is cut out above the headboard, which swallows my room in natural lighting.
With my back propped against the frame and the covers pulled over my waist, I release an exhale as the silken sheets cool my skin. All day I’ve had a few things stored in my memory’s to-do list. First, get a notebook and write down each day’s events. Second, find a computer and do some hacking. And third, practice my magic.
Now knowing each day may very well be my last, I need to be prepared for whatever comes my way. No more surprises.
After extensive practice creating pencils, pens, those gathered plants in the corner, a few pink rugs, which were meant to be red,and deformed candles, I’ve gotten a basic feel of how my magic works. Kind of.
Holding a hand out, I envision each detail of a journal. Hard cover, thin, creamy sheets of paper, the size, and even the texture.
Building it mentally, I see my signature glow encompassing my palm, and with a red photo-flash, I’m holding a brown leather diary.
“Yes.” I do my little happy dance. It’s ninety percent perfect. Who cares that the back cover is a bit bigger, and the lines on the pages are vertical. All in all, go me.
Wrapping a hand around my wrist, I rotate against its stiffness and massage the skin. “I wish like hell there was a way for me to retrieve your bracelet,” I whisper, missing Rosie each day, but even more in this moment as I stare at the smooth skin of my wrist. There is no longer a tan line from never taking her gift off.
A memory from my first birthday with her awakens, and I sit back with my eyes closed. It was the first one since meeting her, and somehow, she managed to sneak away and purchase a gift. The bracelet. What I found surprising was her and I were damn near inseparable, so how she found time, I don’t know. But the moment it clasped around my wrist was like being born a second time, creating a family of two. Her and I.
Giving meLove…Immunity…Faith…Empathy.
