Page 2 of Darkness Defined

Smith shook his head. “That’s not quite what I meant. Do you know why you’re here specifically?” He tapped his desk for emphasis, and I rolled my shoulders to ease my increasing discomfort. Smith studied me for a moment. “You really don’t know, do you?” He paused as if unsure how to proceed, then said slowly, “Superno House is… special.”

“Whatever. I’ve heard that before. If I was anymore disgusted with this ridiculous charade, I might actually spew all over his desk. “As for ‘abilities’, last time I checked, having a bad temper and being a target for bullies wasn’t an ability, it was a nightmare. Not to mention I’ve been tested for practically everything under the sun… multiple times. So, please, spare me. The results are always either a flat out nope or ‘inconclusive’.” I tightened my arms across my chest. The tests had been less than pleasant.

“I’ll ignore the attitude for now, because I genuinely believe that you do not know about your true heritage. I’d love nothing more than to provide some insight, but without proper testing…” He spread his hands. “Given your—colorful—record, I’d hazard that you belong to the Chaos Class. We have a few of those here. Though, given your obvious anger management issues, it’s possible you’re a type of elemental. Either way, you are a supernatural, Matt. There’s no doubt about that.”

I scoffed. “Are you for real? You can stop blowing smoke up my ass. We both know the only reason I’m here is because the age of majority in Nebraska is nineteen. Less than a year, and I’m gone.” It didn’t take a fantasy to explain why I was angry. Being abandoned at a Catholic church less than a month old then passed from one awful place to another did that to a person.

Smith sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “It’s worse than I suspected.” He visually regathered himself and smacked the arm of the chair. “Let’s start with a tour of the facilities. That should put things in perspective.” Smith stood and walked to the door. He opened it, then waited for me to follow. When I didn’t, he added, “You’re welcome to stay here, but meals are only served in the cafeteria and that sofa isn’t nearly as comfortable as it looks.”

I eyed the questionable orange couch that by no means looked comfortable, then pushed myself up from the chair and trailed obediently behind him. I didn’t really need a tour; one orphanage was much like another.

Beyond the door, a pair of kids were running full-tilt down the hall. I shook my head. Yep, exactly the same as all the others.

When the kids caught sight of Smith, they ground to a halt just shy of crashing into us. The girl looked to be a few years younger than me and the boy younger still. They looked similar with iridescently dark skin, pinched faces, and decidedly pointed ears.

The girl sneered. “What are you supposed to be?” Her doll-like face twisted into something eerily savage. I half expected to see serrated teeth peeking between her thin lips.

“Now, Mercy, don’t be rude. Matt is the newest addition to the home. I expect you and your brother to make him feel welcome,” Smith tacked on, his voice stern.

“He doesn’t belong here,” the boy piped up. His equally delicate features remained perfectly impassive, as if they were carved from black marble.

“He’s right,” Mercy added while her brother’s face remained unsettlingly blank. “He’s dangerous.”

I snarled at her, and she shrank back. Smith gave me a nervous look, but didn’t comment. I supposed next to these frail children and with my reputation, I was the bigger threat, but no one would ever peg my five-seven as imposing at first glance.

Smith cleared his throat and angled himself between us. “A specialist will come out next month. She’s been recruiting for an exclusive school for… unique demons. It’s possible that our recent addition may not be with us long.” He gave me a sidelong glance that I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to notice, and swallowed.

Mercy stepped closer to her brother. “Good riddance.”

“Yeah, all demons do is cause trouble. They’re just a bunch of bullies,” Christian echoed.

I was fully aware that I’d been branded a troublemaker, but that didn’t make me a bully. And what the fuck was all this demon shit about?

“That’s enough.” Smith pointed down the hall. “Off with you, and I better not catch anymore running. We wouldn’t want a repeat of last month’s incident, now, would we?”

The two shared a menacing look, then continued down the hall. All of two steps later, the peculiar kids vanished from the hallway, leaving two bright points light where they’d been. I blinked to clear what I assumed was an afterimage, but the glowing balls stayed hovering above the ground. Then, just as suddenly, they zipped down the hall.

I staggered back and looked at Smith, my eyes in danger of falling out of my head. “What the hell was that?”

“Sprites.” Smith shook his head. “Intuitive and mischievous to a fault, but they’re never wrong.” He finished locking his office and took off down the hall. “It’s an unfortunate fact that most of the children that end up under our care are Fae or Demonic. There’s the occasional elemental, but their own kind keep a closer watch on them.”

I remained rooted to the ground, still struggling to make sense of what I’d seen. Except it wasn’t possible. No way those creepy kids had turned into tiny balls of light and flew. Was flew even the right word? Whether it was or not didn’t matter because it wasn’t possible in the first place.

Smith glanced over his shoulder, not really slowing. “I told you these kids would be different. Come on, the cafeteria is this way.”

I debated making a break for it, then recalled how Smith had somehow knocked my feet off my desk without touching me. If he could do that, then there was no telling what else the people in this place could do. I shuffled to catch up, equally concerned about being too close to the administrator and not really wanting to be alone.

As we walked, I examined every kid we passed for any signs of weird. Mostly I saw the usual curious faces, a couple more hostile expressions, but other than that, nothing extraordinary, and certainly nothing like I’d seen earlier. A couple of turns later, I was ready to chalk up the whole encounter to low blood-sugar. It was as likely as anything, given I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.

Suddenly, Smith stopped and looked over at me. “Do you smell burning?”

I blinked back at him. Now that he mentioned it, there was the faint smell of burnt popcorn, but that shouldn’t be unusual in a place full of kids. Suddenly, a stream of fire blasted out into the hall of an adjoining corridor.

“Oliver!” Silence met Smith’s bellow. “Oliver, I know that’s you. Get out here right now.”

A boy about my age stepped out, his shoulders hunched and his vibrant red hair sticking out in every direction as if he’d stuck his finger into an electrical socket.

I wrinkled my nose. The kid reeked of sulfur and had burned sleeves.