We were in the House of Twilight commons area, our usual seating arrangement around the low table and sofa taken. The table had long been buried under open mission files, combat manuals, and three different sets of highlighters that no one but Cora and Seth used correctly.
Rune lay half on, half off the sofa, bare feet pressed against my thigh, a book open over her stomach.
Cora sat cross-legged on the cushioned seat by the table, highlighter in one hand, pen in the other.
Ominous sprawled on the floor, barely focused as he played with his shadows between his fingers.
Seth sat on his knees on the cushion, writing a combat sequence intently.
“As House Head,” I said, purely for the satisfaction of mentioning my role and having the authority to officiallyschedule nights like these. “I am allowed to organize study sessions.”
“You don’t have to say ‘as House Head’ every time,” Seth pointed out.
“I do,” I argued, looking up from the passage I was reading. “Otherwise, it’s just me being bossy.”
“The idea of you being bossy never stopped you before,” Rune muttered without looking up, her toes flexing against my leg.
“Valid point,” I hummed.
Cora snorted. “Can we please focus on the part where this ‘human civil war’ is bleeding into our missions?” She tapped the tablet in front of her. “I’d like to not die because some humans with a Fates complex got creative.”
“You mean God complex,” Seth corrected her. “Humans don’t believe in the Fates.”
“Actually,” Ominous mused, smirking. “Some humans do.”
Rune’s expression tightened, eyes sliding over the paragraph she’d been pretending to read. I felt the shift from amusement to anger through our bond before I saw it.
“Fucking humans,” she spat.
“Humansarea mess,” Seth agreed, tapping his pen on his notebook. “I’m glad the council is trying to stay out of their war. The last thing we need is to have the different territories pissed off.”
“Mm.” Ominous tapped the edge of a mission file. “Except the ‘stay out of it’ plan is going great so far. You know, considering our supernatural people are being taken, held in labs, experimented on, and injected with tourmalyke.” He looked up, his eyes flat. “Feels like ‘staying out of it’ isn’t working.”
“Humans suck,” Cora muttered. “Officially. I’m writing it into my notes.”
“As you should.” Rune let out a disgruntled hiss.
“It is notallhumans,” I reminded them.
They all looked at me with various expressions of disbelief.
“What?” I prompted them. “It’snot. There’s the Human Council and the ones trying to stop the supernaturals from being taken. And there’s…” I flicked a hand. “A handful who aren’t actively trying to murder us.”
“‘Not actively trying to murder us’ is a low bar,” Rune mumbled in irritation. “And they keep letting Aurago on air and callusmonsters.”
“Allison,” Seth supplied.
I’d forgotten about that. Another News Sector video aired in the Human Territory of Allison calling all supernaturals dangerous and ticking time bombs. It wasn’t live, and nobody had tracked the location of where it came from.
“Right.” Rune’s lip curled. “Her. Smug little human with imp magic. I’d like to personally introduce her to a cult of starving vampires…hey, Dimitri, do you think…”
The mental image was not unappealing.
I shook my head. “The Cult of the Blood Moon doesn’t just hate humans. They hate any species that aren’t vampires.”
“I know that.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. I mean, hypothetically, of course.”
“Hypothetically, I think it would be more satisfying to end her life yourself.” I winked at her.
