I slam my hand across his mouth, and his eyes go wide, clearly not used to people touching or keeping him from speaking.
“Nope. You either promise not to use your powers, or I’ll make sure you can’t myself.” I raise my eyebrow as he looks atme and assesses his situation. He looks over my shoulder, and I roll my eyes, knowing what he’s probably seeing. Lucy is likely threatening him, even though I can do it myself.
Whipping my head around, I catch Lucy mimicking breaking a bone, and I give him an angry bug-eyed look before whisper-yelling, “Stop it,” and face the Don Juan fellow again.
“Don’t mind Satan, he’s a pussy cat.” Growls echo behind me. “You gonna behave?” I ask my peer in front of me.
He nods his head vehemently. “Good. Let’s go talk.” I whistle for Reaper and watch as Mr. Don Juan’s eyes widen in fear at my fiery hellhound running to us.
Oh, this will be fun.
CHAPTER 16
Information Overload
JP
Trying to concentrate during this party is almost impossible. In my mind, I either have the supes whose mentally guarded thoughts are as tight as a bottle of Dillard’s pickled pumpkin custard, or I have the ones yelling at me as if they are next to me. I’m going to have a splitting headache after this, that’s for sure.
So far, the only interesting things I’ve picked up are a few tidbits about the other schools. Bailiwick is particularly cautious with the medallions that they wear around their necks. I didn’t see them in their picture that Zeke had up on the computer, but most of the contenders have them now. If they happen to poke out from under their cloaks or dresses, they quickly hide the medallion and check whether anyone nearby has noticed.
Nope, just little ol’ me.They wouldn’t be that cautious if they weren’t hiding it for some reason.In the last group I was visiting, a student from Seductive Sins caught sight of it and asked about it, but Bailiwick changed the subject, and the question was dropped.
Besides a few personal fears from a couple of Cyanide Conservatory peeps, nothing has been eventful. Although I do overhear a conversation about our Ever Woods, and a few students mention they are thankful that our Whispering Death Vines are hibernating. I pocket that information away because I don’t know what significance that plays, but I do know who would.
‘Take out the smaller groups first. The sooner, the better,’a feminine voice yells out.
‘I agree. Most of the Cyanide Conservatory will be breaking up in smaller groups, and the same with Purgatory, from what I’ve gathered,’a male voice replies.
What’s going on here?I approach a small group of students and find them discussing their seasonal preferences.Boring.
“Which do you prefer out of the seasons?” the petite blonde asks me. She’s the supe I just heard talking about picking off the smaller groups. Her dark green sheath dress is a bad choice for her, but I refrain from pointing it out.
“Winter,” I lie, but say it with a straight face and with no inflection in my tone, so no one will be able to catch it.
“Really?” the male beside me asks. “Why?”
Keep it simple and plant false insecurities.
“Easier to track your prey,” I tell him, giving him a small, sinister smile before turning away, but I’m close enough that I can hear their thoughts.
‘What school is he from?’the girl asks frantically.
‘I don’t know, he doesn’t look like a demon, so maybe Purgatory? I didn’t see him come in with Cyanide.’
Bingo. Plant false insecurities. I have this spy master shit down.
Tired of mingling for a moment, I grab a drink of Fairie Wine and perch in the shadows against one of the trees, watching from a distance as supes dance, laugh, and greet each other.
“It’s crazy how we spend our lives when we think we have forever,” a timid voice speaks up behind me, making me jump.
Looking over my shoulder, I find a petite girl standing to my left, bundled into a tunic dress with a scarf wrapped around her neck, and her brown hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head.
I know her from somewhere.I cock my head, trying to place her, when her blue eyes flash to brown and back again within seconds, and it clicks.
“Desar! Hey, how are you doing?” I ask, shocked to see the Interdimensional Pythoness witch here. I haven’t seen her since she helped Rez in her attempt to make a stronger connection with Lynx when he was missing.
She gives me a sad smile and continues to watch the dancing people with her listless eyes.
