Page 27

A giant man is wrestling a load of sheets into the washer. His hair is pure white, though not from age. Paranorms age at the same rate as humans until our powers fully manifest at twenty-one, and then the rate slows to half that. He only looks to be in his late thirties, which means he could technically be about sixty in human years. The hair must be genetic. He’s as tall as the ogres I’ve heard roam the Scottish hills, and wide too. More burly than portly. His brown eyes have a slight amber glow, and they take me in as he snaps the washer closed. “Are you the one who emailed about the job?”

“Yes.” I watch as he switches the machine on, shifting my weight. I’ve never had to apply for a job before, so I’m not really sure how to act. “I’m Raina.”

“Oliver,” he says, pointing to himself before jerking his thumb toward a small table and chairs tucked into the corner of the room. “Come sit and we’ll talk about the work.”

I join him and wait for him to start.

Oliver sizes me up, thick eyebrows tugging down. “Mage?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes, sir.” Maybe he doesn’t know about the Threshold incident.

“What’re your affinities?”

“I, uh, I don’t know.” I pause. Will that disqualify me? “But I’m a hard worker,” I add quickly.

His bushy eyebrows pinch together. “You mean to tell me you blasted the Threshold with electric green power, and you don’t know what your affinities are?”

“Electric green? Goddess, is that the rumor now?” Seriously, these paranorms have got to stop talking about me. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Focus on getting the job, Raina! “I mean, I didn’t blast the Threshold with anything. It blasted me, to be fair. I’m lucky to be alive, sir.”

He harrumphs. “Well, the few Ferals in need of work end up applying for jobs in the library or the gyms or, well, anywhere but here, really. Tell me why I should hire you when I’ve found most paranorms your age don’t even know how to fold a fitted sheet?”

Is there a way to fold those? Keeping that to myself, I answer him with what I hope will win him over. “Like I said, I’m a hard worker. I’ll do whatever you need, and I promise if I do a bad job, I’ll fix it so you won’t have to.”

He hums, studying me. “And if I tell you to clean out the sewage lines?”

“Is that what you want me to do?” I paste on what I hope passes for a polite smile to hide the complete horror at the thought of having to clean literal shit.

His chair creaks as he leans forward. “You’d do it if I ask?”

I drop the fake smile, shoulders slumping. “Yes. I need the money. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”

He squints at me. “You mean that.”

Is this some weird test? “Yes, sir.”

He exhales heavily. “All right, then. I suppose I could use some help retrieving and washing the linens and towels from employee and student housing. You’ll have to work around your class schedule.”

Oh, thank fuck. “Tell me when and how often, and I’ll make it happen.”

Oliver lays out a schedule that’s manageable with my courseload and any homework that’ll need to be done. Since he’s already taken care of things today, I’ll start tomorrow with my first pickup before breakfast is served.

“Then all that’s left is your badge.” He stands and strides into his office, quickly pulling up the badge system and printing one out for me. He clips it to a lanyard and hands it over, but not before he takes a moment to look at my picture. The big guy laughs to himself. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Who’d you piss off at registration?”

I glance at the photo. “Motherfucker,” I mutter. It’s that obnoxious one of me with eyes half closed and mouth hanging open since that bitch took it when I was talking.

“Don’t worry, no one needs to see it. Just keep it in your pocket and it’ll let you into the buildings.”

“Aren’t there biometric locks? My dorm had one.”

He shakes his head. “Not for these doors. Tweed only paid for the dorm rooms to be upgraded. The cheap bastard.” He murmurs the last part under his breath and shakes his head. “Anyway, you should get to class, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He waves me away, seemingly impatient, but I don’t take offense. He’s a one-man operation, or he was, but now I’ll be able to lighten his load.

“Right. Bye, Oliver. Thanks again.” I emerge from the facilities building with a bit of pep in my step, but as soon as I realize where I’m going next, it wilts like a flower without water. Unease skitters down my spine like a spider as I head to Practical Casting. Last week, the professor spent time reviewing the basics of how the class will work, and this is the first time we’ll be on the floor working on harnessing and developing them.

I’m already bracing for failure, the mockery that’ll come with it, and the disappointed looks on Professor Silverstone’s face.

“Hey, hey.” Eli falls into step beside me as we enter the large gymnasium. The freshly polished floor gleams with the light spilling through the large windows running along the south wall. It’s so much brighter than the pit, but Practical Casting and Vanguard Combat Basics are in separate buildings for a reason. No one wants a rogue cast to interfere with their fight.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I tuck the employee badge into my backpack. No one will see that picture if I can help it.