Page 11

I’M A DOCTOR, NOT A brAND STRATEGIST

SYDNEY

The back of her neck turns pink and I know I’ve hit the mark. The government brought in all these randos to help run this shit who have no idea how the camps are run and what they’re walking into. These humans don’t know the rules, the cheats, or the terms of the schools or camps; it’s going to get someone hurt without a doubt. And if they think the actual bad guys who live here haven’t figured out how to cover up their misdeeds, the less evolved species subjugating us is in for a real lesson in reality.

Not that I’m going to tell this chick a damn thing—it’s not my problem.

“It’s a rule where they keep this fucker,” Rory says as he hitches his thumb over his shoulder to Elias. “We should all be careful how we handle the soap at the dorm.”

Huck spears the mage with a dark glare. “That better not be as homophobic as it sounds, hombre. We don’t cotton to that kind of talk ‘round here.”

Sebastian snickers, shaking his head. “Oh, the naivete of the less talented.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I growl at the fanged snob. “And get fucked, by the way. You have no idea how talented any of us are just from sitting in a corner.”

The crackling power skating over Rory’s skin leaps to mine and I yelp. His grin widens as he replies, “I apologize if it came off that way. None of the elite are concerned about trivial issues like… gender. We’re far more fluid since there are less of us—as the vampire failed to point out. I was riffing off his imprisonment, though… I suppose that’s not fair, either.”

Elias scoffs, but doesn’t correct him.

“Not all supes in prison deserve to be there,” Thad says solemnly. “For some, it’s about their powers and what they’re capable of.”

Huck clucks his tongue as we arrive at the medical bay, walking closer to the group as Krista confers with the doctors. “Look, furry friends. We don’t have much time, but keep them guessing. Docs and mages—fool them, hide shit, and don’t disclose. We may not like each other, but we’d all like to live and win freedom. If they find every card in our hand, we can’t hedge our bets.”

The dragon eyes my demon for a second and nods slowly. “Agreed. The demon speaks truth and his plan is solid—for now.”

Thad groans softly. “Dude, they know I’m a bear. What the fuck can I hide?”

Sebastian tilts his head, his red eyes intense. “Any past history—injuries, familial strengths or weaknesses, skills—is good to keep to yourself. Keep the chatter about your sleuth general so no one gets kidnapped or held for some sort of ransom. Think like you’re playing chess or checkers or anything that requires multi-step thinking, ursine.”

I frown as I consider what I need to keep to myself. My magic is hit or miss, and that’s well documented in my school records. People know I hang out with Huck and Thad, but I live at the halfway house and I don’t have friends there. I’m perfect for being a blank slate with these jackholes, but my guys are not. “I’ll be okay. There’s not much for them to find out about me that isn’t on record.”

Rory tilts his head to study me. “No, there’s not, is there? It’s all locked up tight, twisted in ropes and chains long before you ended up in this hellhole.”

What the hell does he mean by that?

“Whatever the fuck you meant by that, button it up, son,” Huck says as he pushes his hat back. “We don’t need some dickface mage screwing this up because he gets distracted by his own reflection.”

I whistle low, winking at the demon gratefully. “Huck’s right. We all need to focus. Doesn’t matter if we hate each other, we have to survive. Plus, I cannot fathom giving any of these plastic bobbleheads the satisfaction of winning bets on my corpse. I’d rather pay a succubus to drain me dry and leave my husk in the wastes.”

Every single one of them blinks at me and I have to bite my tongue to keep from berating them when I realize it’s because I said succubus, not incubus.

Men are the same dumbass couch humpers no matter what the species.

The med bay Krista leads me to is cold and sterile, but at least it’s devoid of men being fucking weird at the worst possible moment. I don’t like removing my clothing, but it’s not like I have a choice. Grabbing the well-washed gown the assistant left, I step behind the screen and tug my uniform off piece by piece. They didn’t have to include a barrier in here, but I’m glad they did because it’s helping me hide the weapons I’m not supposed to have.

Thank hell for small favors, I suppose.

Once I get my contraband buried in my discarded outfit, I slip the gown on and pull my braid out of the neckline. Unlike our new teammates or even Huckleberry, I don’t have much on my body outside of scars, one tattoo my father gave me, and my Marker. The scars are bad enough , if you ask me, and I do my best to make certain most of my skin stays covered in public. The early days of the camps were filled with humans who took out their rage from losing loved ones to COVID out on the imprisoned supes, especially unaccompanied minors and females like me.

I got a lot of beatings and punishment, but thanks to Thad’s looming presence, nothing worse happened. Sometimes, I can’t sleep at night when I think about the girls and women who didn’t have people like Thad or Huck around. Even with Markers, some females of various species can handle themselves. But young ones or those with muted skills like me? We became prime targets for the worst of the worst.

I didn’t mean to go back there right now; I have to get my shit together.

Pushing my hands over the top of my hair, I make sure it’s still pulled back. The less ‘pretty’ you look, the more seriously everyone takes you—I learned that early on and it’s worked for me. Keeping my long hair bound and face paint light is part of my armor, and it’s all I have left when I’m wrapped in this stupid cotton gown. My feet slap on the cold tile as I walk over to the raised table, hopping onto it as I wait for the doctor.

“Come on, people. Don’t bring us all to these iceboxes if you don’t have enough fucking quacks to service the cows,” I mutter to myself. I realize how weird the phrasing of that was as I swing my legs off the edge, grumbling about Huck’s stupid country bullshit rubbing off on me.

That’s when the big ass centaur in a white coat clip-clops in with a short, round looking woman in scrubs. Squinting, I make out the names on their badges: Dr. Moreau and Nurse Ames.

Okay, very cute, guys.

“Sydney Jolie, aged twenty-one, classified as a magic user. Skills have been presumed weak, as no useful magic has been performed since entering Tempest Seven after the First Sweeps.”

I decide Nurse Ames can bite me, so I just arch a brow and stay quiet.

The centaur moves closer, angling alongside the table to peek at me carefully. “Perhaps you’re correct, Nurse Ames. Can you fetch your equipment to verify?” She nods, bustling to the door and hurrying away as it closes behind her. Before I know what’s happening, the equine physician grabs my hand, holding it tightly. “Do not tell her, Sydney. Many, many things depend on the right supes getting the right chances and you cannot be identified. It’s too early. You must fight the intrusions.”

“Dude, what hay are you smoking?” I ask in a tense whisper. “I can’t help anyone do anything, man. I’m a dud; she as much as said so. You probably want to find some of my new teammates. They seem like real ballers.”

Doctor Mr. Ed tosses his head and makes an annoyed neighing sound, his hand shooting out to grip mine. “I understand why you don’t believe me, but keep what I said in mind. In life, things do not always make sense when we hear them, but they do much later. Keep your mind clear, Sydney, and your hopes up.”

Sure, I’ll do that just for you, crazy horse man.

“Uh, okay,” I say slowly, hoping he’ll back off the intensity a little once the dumpy magic nurse returns. “I’ll try. But uh, I can’t promise much because I’m not powerful and they have this thing in my fucking neck, yeah?”

The doctor looks around, then gestures for me to move behind the curtain. When I don’t get up, he huffs loudly and I sigh, hopping down to move behind the stupid fabric. I don’t know what the hell he’s doing, but I doubt the nurse will be gone much longer. He clops over, standing in just such a way that I know any hidden cameras will miss this exchange.

“This will hurt. I don’t have time to make it easier.”

I blink, about to protest when he grabs my shoulder, spinning me around. Within seconds, a sharp pain in the spot where my Marker rests almost makes me pass out. My eyes blink and I pant softly, trying to get control of myself so I don’t vomit on the floor as his fingers wiggle around. Another pinch makes me grit my teeth, but a few moments later, a cooling liquid is poured over the aching wound.

“Hurry up. Come back to the table. I’ve cleaned and glued it shut. Put your braid over the marks and for the love of Dionysis, control your mind and your core when Ames returns.”

Licking my lips, I follow his instructions, but stare at the centaur in absolute shock. “Why did you remove it?”

He shakes his head and I cough, still working to get my shit together.

Apparently, that’s all the answer I’m getting for now.