“Hey.” The golden haired boy insisted I return my attention to him. I liked him instantly. “What grade?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said you’re a teacher. You’re new. What grade?” he demanded.
“Yes, this is my first day.” I smiled as my beast rumbled with approval at the boy’s courage. “Kindergarten.”
He let out a WHOOP and raised a closed fist in the air, twirled it around and around in a gesture I’d seen on human television programs. “Yes! You’re my teacher! Come on! I bet my cat would like you.”
Was that a compliment? What did small, feral felines have to do with teaching human children?
“He doesn’t like very many people. Come on. I’ll show you the way.” Without preamble, he reached for my hand and wrapped impossibly small fingers around my thumb to tug me along behind him.
My beast chuckled within as we allowed the tiny, determined human child to lead us to our new classroom. I opened the door to…chaos.
A rapid assessment using my Hive implants and years of combat training supplied me with information almost instantly. Twenty-seven children, thirteen boys and fourteen little girls, were laughing, talking, sprawling on the floor and the desks, playing with blocks, and singing. A group of five boys were playing a game of tag, knocking over their classmates, and a few desks, in their rush to escape one another. Two shy little girls huddled against the wall, half standing in their cubbies to avoid being run over as one quiet little boy with blond hair sat patiently at his desk watching the chaos with assessing eyes.
My instincts leaped at the boy’s silent evaluation of the noise and chaos around him. That was what I would expect from the child of an Elite Hunter. Was he the one?
“Everybody! This is our teacher, Mr. Smith!” The boy holding my hand pulled me forward into the center of the room. “Check him out! He’s huge!” With a giggle, he released me and ran to stand next to a small group that huddled around one of the boys who’d been playing tag. This boy was obviously one of the leaders of the group, his brown hair and curious blue eyes assessing but not afraid.
“Are you really our teacher?” the brown haired boy asked.
“What’s your name?” I countered. He could very well be half Everian. He was one of the larger boys. His stance was confident, and the other children seemed to respond to an innate quality of leadership. Perhaps they sensed the truth.
“Connor.”
I cleared my throat and raised my hand into the air in a silent signal I’d used many times on the battlefield. The children responded as I’d hoped, quieting and turning to await my command. “I am Mr. Smith. I am your kindergarten teacher.”
“No way.” A hushed, feminine voice whispered behind me to a round of girlish giggling.
“Children, take your seats. Your names are on top of the desks.” Thank you, Lady Radu. I’d accompanied her the day before as she decorated the room while I did surveillance sweeps and mapped entry and exit points for the entire building. The place was impossible to lock down, with dozens of doors and windows. I hated it instantly and demanded we just find the boy and take him to a safe location. Problem was, we weren’t sure which boy in the classroom was the target. Yet.
When they all stared at me like I was a phantom, I stepped to the closest desk and read out the name. “Chloe.”
An adorable girl with dark brown hair and brown eyes stepped forward. I pointed to the desk. “This is your seat. Sit.”
She scurried like a frightened rabbit as I walked to the next desk and called out a second name. “Henry.”
A boy with red hair, freckles and one front tooth missing from his mouth slid into the seat without looking away or blinking.
Did I truly look so odd to these children? Lady Radu had assured me I would pass for human in these ridiculous clothes.
“Why are you staring at me?” I asked.
Henry finally blinked. “Did you go to college?”
I did not, but I knew the reason he asked. “Yes. I was top of my class at the finest academy in the quadrant.”
“What’s a ‘cad-a-me’?” Chloe whispered.
I thought of the long weeks of combat training I’d endured with my fellow Atlan Warlords and sighed. Such things were not for children. “It’s a school.”
“Where you learned to be a teacher?”
If being a teacher was code for thwarting Hive tech and ripping their bodies in half with my bare hands, then… “Yes.” I pointed to the next desk. “Ava.”
One of the shy girls from the cubby area quietly slipped into her seat.
