Page 22 of Monster's Obsession

Asmoday blinked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. And hereallyliked what he was seeing. Uh-oh. Mental note: no more laughing.

“Uh, I better go,” I said, stabbing my thumb over my shoulder. “Off to class. Um, thanks for the sandwich.”

I hightailed it down the hall without glancing back, which was unnecessary. I could feel him watching me all the way to the doorway of the classroom.

Where I promptly slammed face first into a solid barrier instead of stepping through a door.

A round of snickering ensued as I rubbed my swelling nose. I quickly darted a glance over my shoulder. I didn’t see Asmoday. Thank Lilith. I didn’t appreciate anyone laughing at me, but Ireallydidn’t want Asmoday observing me making a fool out of myself.

Again.

“Come in, come in,” someone said from the other side of what appeared to be a doorway, but, now that I analyzed it, I realized was a wall with a magical coating that made it look like a door.

Not very advanced magic, and I’d walked right into the trap. Boy, I was making a hell of a first impression, wasn’t I?

“You must be Daruka,” that same voice said after I stepped nimbly to the left and walked through the actual door, which was disguised as a potted palm in front of a window.

The classroom was cavernous, comprised of a tall, arched ceiling with desks interspersed between pillars. Billowing, gauzy curtains floated and flapped in front of a wall of windows. More potted plants were positioned along the perimeter.

Much of it, I noted, was an illusion. Hm. Maybe this could be a useful class after all.

At the front was a gigantic blackboard—not an illusion—with a super old-looking desk pushed off to the side. A bald white guy of indeterminant age, dressed in a black cloak with a black shirt and black pants peeking out, stood next to a blooming hibiscus plant—also not an illusion—smiling benignly.

“Good morning, Daruka,” he said. “You should know that every single student who enters my classroom on the first try has that exact same experience. No need to be embarrassed.”

“Er, thanks?”

He chuckled. “Some do it the first few times, actually. There is one unnamed student in here who still runs into the wall, every single day.”

Probably the kid nursing a black eye in the third row.

“Based on how quickly you figured out the correct entrance, I suspect it will take you only the one time to learn your lesson.”

He was right on that account. I may hate school, but I was a quick learner. Had to be when the devil himself was constantly nipping at your heels.

“Please, join us.” Professor What’s His Name waved at the rows of desks. “There is one open seat.”

Right between the kid with the black eye and my all-time favorite person: my roommate.

“Seriously?” Selina blurted. “She can’t sitanywhereelse?”

“Is there a problem, Miss Blackthorn?” the professor asked.

Miss what now? My roommate was a Blackthorn? Like, descendant of the family that started this school? Maybe I needed to be nicer to her. It didn’t seem like the wisest plan to make an enemy out of someone with the same surname as the headmistress. Someone who could probably get me expelled. I didn’t plan to stay here forever, but I definitely planned to leave on my own terms.

“I can’t stand the scent of incense,” Selina said with an imperious sniff.

I lifted my arm and took a whiff. Nope, no incense there. Unless I was around Asmoday, I was pretty good at covering up most of the obvious signs that I was a demon.

“You can’t—” The professor snapped his mouth shut and suddenly, every set of eyes in the entire classroom had settled on me, and seriously, why was I continually the center of attention in this place?

Professor Kennedy—I finally remembered his name—walked a full circle around me, peering at me like I was a severed finger floating in a jar of formalin.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “I had no idea. Excellent camouflaging skills, Daruka. I am quite impressed. Now, go take your seat.”

Okay, whatever that was about. Head down, I hurried through the silent stares and dropped into the only empty seat in the room, save the professor’s desk, which was covered in a layer of dust so thick, I doubted he’d used it in the last decade.

Professor Kennedy strode over to the dusty desk, grasped at the air about two feet above it, and suddenly pulled a cloth away to reveal a pristine, shiny wooden surface upon which sat a glass enclosure with some kind of reptile inside. As he plucked the lizard out of the tank, its scaly skin changed colors.

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