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“I’m fine.” I give her a smile that’s more of a grimace.
“You must be packing power if you can mess up the Threshold like that.” Ever bumps her shoulder against mine. “Us powerful paranorms have to stick together, right?”
“Right,” I reply, ignoring the voice screaming that I should be wary of her friendship. Nothing good comes for free. Mr. Peters made sure I learned that lesson best of all.
Carver scowls at me. I roll my lips together to keep my mouth from getting me into trouble and avert my gaze. Clearly he’s not pleased that I’m here. Ever thinks I’m someone I’m not. The rest of Vanguard seems to think I’m a threat.
What happens when everyone realizes I have no idea what my power is or how to use it?
There are a good four to five hundred students in each order, and while we’re all grouped in our own sections, there’s not much space between us on the auditorium floor. Tweed and Secretary Ashteon are studying the Threshold, trying to figure out exactly what happened. I wish I knew.
I swallow and force myself to focus on Carver.
He stands in front of those of us in Vanguard, arms crossed and that serious look burrowed into his skin. There are a few other instructors with him, but if I hadn’t learned he was the head of our order, I’d suspect it based on the way they all seem to defer to him, standing to the side and a few steps behind him. If that weren’t enough, he commands attention, his good looks, the powerful stance, the take-no-prisoners stare.
This man is powerful and hot, and he knows it.
He clears his throat. “Welcome to Vanguard. You have a choice to make: fight to prove your worth, or be comfortable with mediocrity, but be warned, the Goddess rewards greatness. You have two years to hone your affinities, to learn to fight and defend our kind and the humans from the demons who want to rip our world apart.”
“This is a much better speech,” I lean in and murmur to Ever. She grins, but when I turn my attention back to Carver, he’s narrowed his eyes on me.
“In Vanguard, we have a few rules. Listen when I speak.” He pauses and lifts an eyebrow, holding my gaze.
I scratch my eyebrow with my middle finger. Noted, asshole.
He scowls and shakes his head, finally looking at someone else. “No killing outside of class, and earn your place. You’ll have a few months to settle into your routine, and then we’ll start with the rankings. For now, let’s deal with dorm assignments.” He turns to look at some students wearing designer labels. “Foundations, you have your housing already.”
“Paid for by their mommies and daddies,” someone behind me whispers.
A few other Ferals nod in commiseration. Some of us don’t have any money because the government taxes the shit out of us, a punishment for our weakened blood, and what little Ferals manage to earn goes toward basic necessities.
Carver gestures at another instructor. “Take them to their rooms.” He watches the Foundations depart, then releases a hard breath. “As for the rest of you, you’ll be on the other side of the Vanguard spire. You’ll get a dorm today, but don’t get too comfortable. Once the ranking begins, room assignments for Feral Bloods will shift. Think of it as a reward system. Those higher in rank get a better dorm.” He glances over my head, at whoever had muttered about the Foundations. “If you’re strong enough, you have the opportunity to live as well as they do. Any questions?”
“How are dorms assigned today?” a girl asks.
“They’re first come, first serve. We’ll head over there and—” A handful of people break away from our group, racing out the door the Foundations were led out of. Carver frowns and looks at the rest of us.
Ever nudges me and takes a step toward the door. I move with her. We’re not the only people inching away from him.
“Right. No one is listening. Fine, go on, then.” He shoos us away. “Remember the second rule!” he calls after us. What was that again? No killing outside of class.
How violent could it get?
It’s only a dorm room.
Outside of the auditorium, a large greenspace stretches as wide and long as at least three football fields. Various buildings are placed along the edge of the quad, and far on the other side is a large building with four spires. The dorm rooms.
I jump back as someone knocks a guy down to get ahead of him, and I wish I could say that’s the only person being crazy. I swear people are throwing elbows as we cross the open green space and head to the Vanguard spire. Everywhere I look, I see fights waiting to break out. The desperation is so thick I can taste it, a bitter berry eaten to stave off hunger pangs.
The Foundations won’t be racing to claim a room. They’ll be lounging in luxury while the rest of us beg for scraps.
“Move!” A chick shoves me out of the way, forcing her way in front of me and Ever.
Someone shouts, and the sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the air. I chance a glance at the guys throwing punches. They’ve forgotten all about getting a room and are fully focused on kicking each other’s asses.
I can practically hear the Foundations laughing at us. They love to see us struggle, almost as if our suffering proves that the Goddess never approved of humans and paranormals breeding. Shaking my head, I look away and curl my hand into a fist, shoulders tightening as the frenzy grows.
We close in on a formidable multi-story stone structure that looks more like a sacred temple than dormitory. Four spires stab toward the sky, one in each corner of the massive building. Banners hang between the merlons, demarking each order. Diremount’s Gothic architecture is some of the prettiest I’ve ever seen, but it’s hard to appreciate the beauty when people are throwing fists to get through the entryway. A quick check around confirms Vanguard isn’t the only order with fights breaking out.
