“Alright. I’ll bring my crew, minus Gaius.” He paused. “Do you think Amaia will join?”
Unless we had a code red situation, we would not be hanging out with Amaia. Her never-ending to-do list made her too busy to even smile through her permanent frown. It was hard to tell if that was just her personality or if it was the result of the tough past she’d been through—the destruction cancer had caused inher family, prompting her to realize how little time we had to defeat this invisible, silent enemy.
I also knew something about that.
“Ifyouask her, for sure.” I pretended not to notice the slight blush over his cheekbones. He hated it, since it made his freckles stand out more.
We landed into this world together, with a twin bond stronger than regular siblings. We could practically read each other’s minds with just a look.
It was a comfort I couldn’t live without.
As Uncle Andrew used to say, we started life holding hands, and we’d been doing everything together ever since.
The clock tower had struck nine by the time I reached the looming anatomy building. All gothic spires and arches rising from dark stone, it was streaked with ivy clinging like green veins to an ancient body. Students lounged on the wide stone steps, while others sat cross-legged on the lawn beneath welcoming oak trees that leaned inward, as if listening to their stories.
My feet led me past the parted mahogany door and down the arched corridor toward class. The low hum of chatter beckoned me, the air thick with smells of formalin and burnt coffee.
Tiziano was already engaged in a serious conversation with a future urologist, looking like a pair of politicians defining the werewolf future.
“I’ll say it again!” His shrill, commanding voice carried all the way to me. “The Dark Diamonds have no chance this year,Terminatoror not!”
Never mind.Not a serious debate.
“Dude, haven’t you seen how aggressive he is? And the guy cheats every damn time!” The other guy jabbed a finger at his chest.
“We have theHighlander!Ourman doesn’t need to cheat. Everyone knows that!”Crabby Tiziano alert.
“That’s exactly the point, man! You think the Terminator won’t use that? He’ll play dirtier than a sewer rat, you’ll see.”
The small earthquake caused by Tiziano’s fist on the desk was no surprise. The guy had once crossed half a stadium just to deck a rival fan who’d called my twin “slow pudding.” Broke the guy’s nose in one hit. With a stunning intellect but a fuse that was about a millimeter long, Tiziano turned all Mama Bear every time someone dared look the wrong way at one of his cubs—and Lachlan and I were part of his litter.
“It doesn’t matter!” he boomed. “Nothing beats class and innate talent! Not even cheating.”
The other werewolf rolled his eyes. “Not if the cheater’s the Terminator. Remember when he incapacitated the Silver Tail’ captain in the first five minutes? Or when he slept with Rabid Fang’s main defender’s girl? The day before the game! He’ll do anything to win, and not just during wereball.”
“Let me explain something,” Tiziano growled, grabbing the urologist by the collar. “There are three kinds of wereball players. First, the rare, honest ones, like our Lachlan, who win no matter what, because they’re royalty, above all.” He shook the urologist as he spoke, and I wondered if the poor guy had special control of his bladder. “Then, the commoners. Brutish, short-tempered, necessary entertainment. And finally, at the very bottom, right in a pit, there’s the Terminator. The worst of the worst.”
“Sounds like Lachlan’s gonna need a bigger crown, then. The Terminator is only after his own entertainment, and the Dark Dia?—”
“Don’t say that name out loud!”
A few guys gave the sign of the cross.
“It’s just wereball.” Ten heads snapped my way. “There are no rules, so cheating is allowed.”
My words slipped out my mouth as I put my notebook down next to the very real human torso already on my table. Thehow-could-you-betray-your-own-brother-like-thisexpression on Tiziano’s face almost made me laugh, but I didn’t dare.
As captain, the Terminator was automatically the villain of all villains in every pack. He never harmed anyone off the field, for all I knew, but that didn’t matter—especially to Tiziano. Most didn’t even know his real name. Of course, that happened to Lachlan, too. Even my parents called him Highlander.
The conversation about the wereball season continued, so I began to readTransient Ischemic Attacks, ignoring the circle of guys crowded around Tiziano. As president of the Shooting Stars, the Comets’ Ultras fan club, he was, in his own words, “the one in charge,” claiming that his club equally hated all the other clubs. No privileges; hatred did not distinguish. Inclusivity and diversity requirementswere met.
Everyone knew that was a lie. That special spot was reserved for the Mad Maddest Hurricanes, the Dark Diamonds’ Ultras club.
The warfare continued until my NMWB, aka the tutor, dropped a pile of books on the front desk.
This was not a lecture I enjoyed.
My dream job was the one I would do for free, and my best classes were the ones I attended without effort, without that stressful I-must-go feeling. Fortunately, that was usually how I felt about most of my classes. Here, we had to dissect the internal organs of real human torsos.
