Page 37 of Demon Hunger
“Yes, Ms. Sunder.” She inclined her head in my direction.
“I was wondering about Striker’s descendants.Narrative of the Life of Konrad Strikermentions that he was married and had two children. Did anyone think of keeping a family tree?”
My question was doubled-edged. One, he was a demon, so how could he have children with a human? To my knowledge, it was impossible. Two, if he had descendants as the biography indicated, perhaps they had inherited some of his abilities and would be able to wield his Queller. I wasn’t opposed to passing the weapon along to someone else. Bringing the heavens down in a fury of fire didn’t sound like my scene at all.
“As a matter of fact, there is a family tree,” Professor Fennix said.
“Oh!” I was surprised by the answer.
“And the two kids were his?”
Regina sputtered a laugh. “What makes you think theywouldn’tbe? Is that how your family operates?”
Everyone laughed.
“Ms. Becker,” the Professor said, “I’m sure you know that when it comes to family trees, Ms. Sunder’s question is quite valid, especially since it relates to a male.”
I turned to take in Regina’s expression. She looked both mad and confused.
“Do you know why?” The professor pressed with a raised eyebrow.
Regina sneered, clearly mad at the teacher. I gave the bitch a saccharine smile. She gave me a look that was only missing a laser beam, which only made my smile grow wider.
The professor went on waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know,” Regina finally said, her face turning as sour as if she’d swallowed a frog.
“Does anyone know why?”
Nearly everyone’s hand went up in the air, which made the situation even more embarrassing for Regina.
“Ms. Griffin,” the Professor gestured toward Jenna.
“It’s because a female can always be sure of her children where a male cannot.”
“Exactly. These days, there are DNA tests to set a male’s mind at ease if they have questions about their progeny. If a father doesn’t know where his kid’s red hair and midnight howls came from, and the next-door neighbor is a handsome Irish werewolf, he can easily allay his doubts.”
The class laughed again. Though, this time, good-naturedly.
The professor clicked her remote and the screen switched to a new slide, which contained the name of Striker’s wife and children.
“You got a bit ahead of yourself, Ms. Sunder,” she winked at me. “Our next slide, as you can see, refers to Striker’s family. His wife was Esther Striker and his children were Jeremiah and Gilbert, both male, which throws into further question the legitimacy of any family tree.”
As she said this, Professor Fennix gave me a pointed look, which was enough to burst my bubble. She understood why I’d asked the question, and she’d cleverly given me the answer: I would be wasting my time if I looked into Striker’s descendants.
“Do you believe in the prophecy, Professor Fennix?” I asked, unable to stop the words before they spilled out of my mouth.
“Prophecies are tricky things. The source is important. Is it reliable? Trustworthy? Can true events, directly and without a doubt, be linked to any of this person’s other predictions? Most of the time, the answer isno. On rare occasions, where the answer ismaybeoryes, I tend to think of prophecies as… guidelines rather than anything set in stone. Predictions are generally ambiguous and up for interpretation. Not to be taken literally for sure.”
I nodded and smiled at her explanation. I liked it much better than the way Director Grant had explained things. I couldn’t think of anyone who could bring down the heavens in a fury of fire. I figured something like that would require a mighty being, and that definitely wasn’t me. {Maybe it was just a figure of speech.}
I left Professor Fennix’s classroom feeling much lighter than I had in days. I had a skip in my step as I exited the classroom—too bad Regina shouldered her way ahead of me, throwing me off balance and walking past me. She flipped her hair like a supermodel on a runway, Phoebe, Norman, and Russell at her heels.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, following her out into the hall.
She glanced over her shoulder and looked me up and down with disdain. “Are you talking to me?”
Clearly, the incident at The Fray room had given her a big head. She thought she owned me, that she could bully me, and I would be too scared to do anything, but it was nothing but a clear sign that she didn’t know who she was messing with.
