Two weeks later…
Mariya…
I’m in my bedroom, studying for a quiz on interrogation techniques when I hear Tatiana open the door, letting Lucca in.
“I thought I’d walk you to your next class. You have Small Arms Instruction next, don’t you?” Lucca’s clipped, deep voice always softens into something sweet when he’s talking to her. It’s adorable.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with wanting to meet the legendary Professor MacTavish, would it?” Tatiana teases him.
“I already did,” he says with a hint of pride in his voice. “I ran into him last week, he wanted to know more about our raid on the Rostova compound last year.”
“Of course he did, my clever man,” she says, and I hear the sounds of an extended kiss. Slamming my book closed to give them some warning, I head into the common room to find my backpack.
“Did you hear that Lucca met the mysterious Professor MacTavish?” Tati says as he kisses her neck.
“Lucca, stop nuzzling my roommate like a baby fawn,” I said crossly. I have no excuse for being resentful when other people are sharing affection, I know that. But I’m cranky and… ugh. Frustrated as hell now that I know what I’m missing. “I like MacTavish,” I said, trying to adjust my pissy attitude. “He’s not a big talker, but you would not believe the insane collection of guns he brought to the Academy with him. Since Tati’s the best in our class, he even let her try out a couple of them.”
“Really?” Lucca says longingly, “Which ones?”
I have never seen Tatiana look so smug. “The Luger semi-automatic.”
“What else?”
She leans closer and whispers like she’s talking dirty, “The Volcanic Repeating Pistol from B Tyler Henry.”
“The inventor of the Henry rifle?” Lucca gasps.
“Okay, I feel like I’m trapped on the ArmaLite fetish page on Porn Hub here, so I’m leaving,” I sigh, seizing my backpack and heading for the door so that I’m no longer forced to witness their utter bliss. God, it’s so annoying.
Late summer is making a brave effort to hold on to this section of Ireland, but the surface of Inis Mor is flat as a pancake and the sea wind tears gleefully across it, stunting the little trees trying to valiantly stay rooted in the rocky soil. Even in September, a thick sweater is welcome. It makes me think of the Leader Challenges, and how every one of them seems to include at least one task that involves getting wet and potentially catching pneumonia. Or drowning. Maybe I’d luck out this year and stayin the less watery portion of the Academy’s version of Clash of the Titans.
“Omigod Mariya, howareyou?”
I close my eyes, sighing deeply. Tansey Marchand, the daughter of a vile mob boss in New Orleans. She has an excessive amount of red hair and eyes like a pit viper. Satan did a good job when he invented her. I step to the left and barely escape her oncoming “hug,” her nails long and curved like a mountain lion’s.
“How are you, Tansey?” I said lifelessly, “How’s New Orleans?”
She waves her hand. “Hot. Sexy. Amazing.” Her grin stretches to feral proportions. “But how are you, honey? I heard y’all had a bit of a dustup last month.”
I’m walking in the direction of the Armory building with impressive speed, but she keeps up, even linking her arm in mine like we’re the best of friends.
“What about you?” I said, “Any attempts on your life during your time back in festive New Orleans?”
Tansey’s laughter is high and sparkling. Sort of like a succubus would sound as she tears out your throat. “Oh, heavens no. My Daddy runs a tight ship.”
“Uh-huh,” I slow down a bit, resisting the temptation to gnaw my arm off, which is still tightly locked with hers. “Do you have anyone from your father’s syndicate coming here with the freshman class?”
Her nose wrinkled like I’d just waved a dead skunk under it. “No. I did see a kid from some trashy little mob out of Shreveport roaming around campus. Are they letting just anyone in these days?”
I hummed noncommittally, “Do you know their name?”
She waved her hand, blood-red nails glittering in the weak sunshine. “I wouldn’t know. He’s a nobody from a nothing mob. I barely recognized him because his daddy always has his lips fastened to my daddy’s ass.”
It’s nice to know some things never change. Tansey is still horrible. “Well, this is me,” I said brightly, extricating my arm from her firm grip with some difficulty. “Bye now.”
“Bye, honey,” she chirps adorably, “I really want to spend more time together this year!”
Yeah,I thought,like a Kodiak bear wants to spend more time with a salmon.
