Page 51 of A Drop of Anguish
The things I imagine doing with this new darker version of Jarron are… degrading. And delicious.
Jarron stands beside the Elite table and points to a fae boy. “Move.” The boy scrambles away like a live bomb dropped in his lap.
Jarron drops into the newly vacant chair and stares in my direction. He scans the area around me methodically and stops to glare at every person who walks past my table.
He moved his usual seat so that he’s facing me. So he can watch my every move. Or rather, anyone else’s move against me.
Is it just me or are there shadows lingering on the ceiling making everything just a tad darker?
Jarron does nothing else, just sits in his chair like a king on his throne, arms crossed, gaze diligent. He doesn’t stare directly at me again, but he tenses and the temperature noticeably drops every time someone even walks near my table. Before long, everyone is using the other side of the lunchroom to pass by, even if it means going the very long way around to their seat.
“He seems—” Janet begins.
“Different,” Marcus completes the sentence.
“He’s—”
“Not okay,” Lola whispers, her wings fluttering slightly.
My stomach sinks. I never told them about my surprise conversation with the demon soul inside Jarron. The conclusion that he’snot okaybothers me significantly, given what I know.
“He’s making sure everyone fears him adequately, so they never even consider touching what’s his.”
I glare at Marcus. “I wasn’thisbefore, and I’m certainly not now.”
Marcus shrugs. “Just repeating what he said.”
The tension remains for the entirety lunch period, even though nothing of note happens. Is it bad I think he looks really good? Like mouthwatering.
I shake my head from those thoughts. I’ve been planning to find a time to talk to him and tell him about the letters.
“There have been some rumors about Jarron lately,” Thompson says, looking over at the Elite table.
“What kind of rumors?” I ask hesitantly.
“That he’s losing it.”
My expression drops to horror. “What the hell does that mean?”
“He’s… well, he’s losing control of his magic, which is a bad sign in our world. Ms. Bhatt tried to make his outburst seem normal for beings like him, but truthfully, for High Orizians, it’s extremely unusual. A reaction this intense only has a few reasonable explanations. And last night, in Elite Hall, he did something similar at just a comment from a wolf. It’s strange, so it has people talking.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but I can tell even he thinks it is.
“He is very different,” I say.
“He’s sad,” Lola says softly.
“It’s more than that.” Thompson runs his hand over his short hair. “Everywhere he goes, the light dims and it turns colder. Some beings do that sort of thing on purpose because they like to see the fear they evoke, but Jarron has always been so even tempered that it’s off. Something is off.”
“So, what are the rumors, then, exactly?”
“There’s a rumor that he’s fighting his own demon, and if he loses that battle, he’ll murder the whole school in a fit.”
“Jesus,” I hiss. “What the hell is wrong with people?”
Thompson shrugs. “It’s never happened in a school like this, but there have been events like that, historically speaking.”
My palms begin to sweat.
“But we know that’s not what’s happening, right?” Lola says in a hushed tone. “He’s acting like this because he’s in love with Candice.” She sounds hopeful but uncertain.
