“Sir, will there be a rotation of teams?” He asks, his tone clipped.
“You’ll get two rotations until graduation. Choose wisely. I expect team proposals by tomorrow morning. I repeat, am I clear?”
We all snap to attention, saluting in unison. “Clear!”
I shove past Caleb.
“Eh!”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I bite out.
I’m supposed to be informed, especially as team leader and especially when my best friend knows valuable information.
“Tell you what?”
“About the demonic activities.”
“Because I didn’t know.”
“You sure looked like you did.” I lean down, eye to eye.
“They only told us the reason behind our research this morning. One of the prototypes finally worked yesterday, so we had to make a batch today for the Legion.” He shrugs. “Also, I didn’t see you today.Happy?”
“Somewhat,” I mumble.
Caleb rolls his eyes and starts walking, done with the conversation. “Let’s go.”
Wyll’s waiting in the hall, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He slides in between us, throws an arm around each shoulder, and leans in as if he’s got all the wisdom in the world.
“Stop being mad over stupid shit. You know you love each other. We’re brothers.” He says, having used his lycan hearing to stay in the loop.
“Shut up!” we say in unison, shrugging him off as we’ve done a thousand times.
Wyll just laughs, unbothered. “Love you too, guys!” he calls after us.
Getting home,we trail after Caleb to his room for the gadget. His place is a mess; it’s organized chaos. Bubbling potions sit precariously on any flat surface, and the shelves are crammedwith jars that have handwriting so wild I can’t even tell what they’re supposed to be.
But it doesn’t matter since Caleb has his system. The chalkboard is covered in scrawled runes as if someone let a toddler loose. They’re ineffective without their title; the God’s words associated with them must be spoken out loud for their magic to work. The shelves are a cluttered dream of gadgets and gizmos, beakers, jars of weird, glowing stuff, and this makeshift telescope pointed at what looks like a vortex made of liquid, way above my intelligence.
The walls?
Covered in posters of vintage sci-fi movies and comic book covers. I can’t help but love it every time I come in here.
It’s alive.
And every time I step inside, it reminds me of Sammy.
How he’d get lost in his experiments with his buddies, while I was busy training to get dad’s approval. Sammy didn’t need to try. He had everyone’s attention just by being himself. He always followed me around, wanting to know what I was doing, learning what I knew. And somehow, when I let him tag along, it felt as if I was the one being taught. So damn eager to push limits, but those limits?
They got pushed too far.
And it’s my fault, I fucking knew better.
22
Kai
DANCING SHADOWS
