Page 25 of Darkness Defined

I’d had enough of being pushed around. If they thought I was some sort of terrifying creature, then maybe I was. At the very least, I could put up a good front. I walked closer to my opponent, who was literally made of rocks, without further prodding.

Neese looked up at me with anger seething in his eyes from where he was still lying in the dirt. “Give him hell, Granite.”

I barely turned in time to see a fist that looked more like a boulder rushing towards my chest. Out of pure reflex, I twisted away, and the blow landed on my back. Pain radiated from the point of impact. By some miracle, I didn’t fall beside Neese as all the air rushed out of my lungs.

The fist vacated my back, and I quickly dropped to the ground before Granite could take a swing at my head. When I came back up, I was behind him. He turned faster than anyone his size had a right to and started swinging. It took every ounce of concentration I had to stay ahead of the hits. But avoidance would only get me so far. Sure, I might eventually wear him out, but the longer we went like this, the better chance there was he’d get lucky, and I wouldn’t survive a direct hit.

Right now, I couldn’t feel my ribs thanks to the adrenaline, but that wouldn’t last forever. I needed to knock him out first. How did you hit a rock, though? If I tried to use my fist, I’d just end up breaking my hand. I needed a weapon. Something small and light that could still break teeth.

I thought wistfully of the club I’d used on Rufus. Then, without explanation, it was in my hand. I grinned triumphantly and stopped side-stepping the attacks. My sudden shift in tactics made Granite hesitate. It was all the opening I needed.

The club landed with a resounding crack on the side of his face. The force of the impact traveled up my arm to jar my shoulder. Granite’s eyes went wide as his head spun in slow motion. Then time caught up, and he fell to the ground in a mound of indistinguishable rubble.

A deafening cheer went up around me. Neese had regained his composure and was appraising me from the sidelines as Otto held up my arm. I had no idea what had happened to my convenient club or even where it had come from. All I knew was that I’d never felt more alive.

Then Neese was once again at my side as I was being shuffled out of the way for the next fight. He dropped a small bag in my hand and I glanced at him in confusion.

“Consider it a taste of things to come.”

I frowned harder and pried open the bag to take a peek. It took a hot second for what I was seeing to register, then I snapped the bag shut.

A knowing smirk curled on Neese’s reptilian face. “I suppose you could always just watch, but fighters get paid.”

Oh, I was definitely coming back.

Chapter 8

Benchmark

A

Ishiftedmypackhigher up my shoulder and wound my way through the room to take a seat at an empty desk. The classroom itself was bigger than the number of students it contained. Still, there were more people than I would’ve expected for a summer class. Everyone from orientation was there, plus several others—most likely other demons.

I took a deep breath in a completely wasted attempt to temper my enthusiasm. Pen and paper found their way out of my bag and onto my desk. A quick glance around showed that I was one of maybe three who actually looked prepared. As I scanned my classmates, I noticed someone missing: Matt. I’d intended to suggest walking to class together since we’d already established he didn’t know where anything was, but he’d already been gone.

There was a commotion by the door, and I turned, hoping it was my elusive roommate. To my disappointment, it was the teacher. Professor Hargrave was a bulk of a man that looked more like a dwarf than a demon. It just went to prove that we came in all shapes and sizes. I couldn’t help but wonder if all earthen-type demons were like that.

“Good morn, class,” Professor Hargrave said, his thick accent giving all the vowels a low rumble. He hobbled into the room, struggling to maneuver the hefty sack slung around his shoulders. “These be yer books for the term.” He removed a leather-backed tome from his bag and passed it to the nearest student. Despite my concerns about being able to understand any of what he was saying during a lesson, I brightened.

I accepted my textbook as he walked past, making his way towards the front of the room. The book was weighty, with a faded blue cover and nearly indistinguishable lettering. My fingers coasted over the aged text reverently. This was it. History. Real demonic history.

I had a powerful urge to smell the worn pages, but promptly decided against it. Professor Hargrave was saying something at the front of the room, but I missed it, as I was too enraptured with my new treasure. I delicately opened the book as if it might crumble in my grasp at any moment. Instantly, my face fell.

Wait a minute.

Completely ignoring whatever instructions Professor Hargrave was giving, I reached down and dug through my pack until I found my red-backed demonic history. I sat it next to the one provided for the course and stared at them in disbelief. They were the same book. Unwilling to accept the truth, I flipped through, choosing a page at random. I quickly scanned the text. Aaand… they were exactly the same. I could have cried with disappointment.

A glance up showed the professor busy writing on the board. I slumped in my seat, my prior excitement thoroughly vanquished, and let my gaze wander. Picking out my fellow Shadow Demons was easy, not only because I recognized them from orientation, but because I could still sense them. Where I distinctly had a peculiar tickle of familiarity with them, I did not with others in the room. The guy sitting next to me was clearly a fire demon with those singed cuffs, but it was a pure guess, albeit an educated one. The brunette diagonal from me, however, I hadn’t the faintest clue. Maybe something from the Carnal class? A succubus, or maybe a fastosus?

My gaze caught on a head of dark hair about three rows over, and I did a double take. When had Matt gotten here?

He turned around, as if sensing my stare. His crystal blue eyes held me captive.

All the moisture in my mouth evaporated and my attempt to swallow stuck in my throat. Damn, he was beautiful.

Matt glanced at my desk, blinked, and twisted back forward.

The break in eye contact snapped me back to my body. I dragged in a pained breath and turned to see what had snagged his attention. The only thing on my desk were the two books, a spiral notebook, and a couple pens. I hung my head in my hands. No wonder he thought I was an arrogant know-it-all. Could I be any more of a nerd? Had I been this much of an insufferable prat before?