Page 32

MAKE THEM WANT TO DRINK THE KOOL-AID

ELIAS

Sydney is obviously angry, but I believe it’s her permanent underlying state of being at this point. I can’t say I blame her; she was raised with a false story that made her suspicious of trusting anyone by some weirdo supernatural rebel who thought he could keep her safe. Then the world fell apart, he was killed, and it just reinforced all his bullshit. She lived with that through the trauma of his death and supernatural imprisonment, only to find out everything she’s been using to get through the days is a lie and no one told her.

It’s a recipe for one sizzling cauldron of hate and resentment, but she has to pretend to be happy and excited to be paraded around like a zoo animal.

“If it helps, little rebel, everyone has problems with their parents, and most are more serious than they let on to others.”

She snorts at my words, shaking her head just enough for her long braid to whip back and forth at her waist. It won’t be difficult to fake being flirtatious with a woman as subtly beautiful as her, especially since she has zero clue that she’s attractive. Putting a wall between her and the world led to Sydney viewing herself like an asexual Barbie doll, and it makes me chuckle to see her two ‘best friends’ trip over themselves trying to get her to notice them. It’s like she has blinders so opaque that she’s lucky she doesn’t run into shit when it comes to anything resembling sex or emotions that aren’t related to anger.

“Vicious, you’re going to hate this class and who the fuck knows who this second instructor is so… maybe breathe before we get into this classroom?”

My gaze darts to Stormbringer as he attempts to assuage Sydney’s fury at the announcement and the woman who made it. I’d like to know what their history is, but I know this isn’t the time to ask about why she looks like she wants to rip the dean’s head off and piss down her neck. “He’s right, for once. I can only surmise that ‘Cultivating A Cult’ will be tiresome for everyone but the mage and the demon because they are the most extroverted of us. We have to listen to their methods in order to be successful as a team.”

“I’m not stupid, you know,” she grumbles as she finally responds. “I’ve been listening to everyone’s perfectly worded stroking since we were paired. I can do this.”

Huck grins at her, tilting his hat back a bit in his slow, country boy style. “We know you can, sweet pea, but when you’re fit to be tied, sometimes your brain takes a vacation by the river.”

Interesting way to put it, but not inaccurate.

“Are you going to wear that thing everywhere today?” Sydney asks as she narrows her gaze at him. “This stupid paper they handed us says we have battle training after lunch.”

“Sweet pea, I wear my hat everywhere , including?—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Huckleberry…” Thad says with a groan. He stops in front of the door marked ‘Tech Classroom BC’ and gives the demon an exasperated expression.

“I’m just preparing her for the great fake-out we all agreed to, Thaddeus. Our lil’ sweet pea has to get comfy with the strapping young men of this group flirting like mad with her, even if her reaction is derision or sarcasm. That's the plan, isn’t it?”

“I hate it already,” Sydney growls as she reaches for the door and yanks it open. “But he’s right, so if he wants to tell me I’d be riding the demon D with his Stetson perched on my head like Annie Oakley, I suppose I’ll have to get used to it.”

My eyes widen and my jaw drops as she stalks inside. The others share my shocked look, and every one of us has to adjust a bit based on the picture she just painted without a whit of emotion.

We’re all fucked if that woman actually starts calling us on our shit.

“The basis of forming a cult following lies in finding out what your super fans want and giving it to them over and over. In psychology, they’d call it ‘love bombing’ and each of your team members must learn how to do it both individually and as a team. You will need to pay very close attention to the comments, messages, and posts of the first fans who follow you, especially those who are frequently liking and sharing your content. Once you do that, you can identify the ones who are most susceptible to our methods.”

My gut recoils at the thought of manipulating the most vulnerable psyches of the supernaturals and humans who will view our show. While it’s clear this stuff would work on anyone, Chantelle is instructing us to watch them closely and find those with the weakest minds. She wants us to use the same things abusive assholes do to keep their prey and minions in line to create a rabid core of our fans who will be easy to control. Evil tyrants and bad royals across the globe have done this, including the fuckwit Taterman, for millennia in order to get and consolidate power.

I hate it with a passion that makes my skin crackle with tiny jolts of electricity.

A hand lands on my forearm and I look over to see Sydney squeeze it gently. Her eyes meet mine and they are full of the same impotent outrage I feel, but neither of us can do a damn thing about this. She moves her hand when the little shocks stop, and I blink in surprise. It’s not normal for someone to be able to calm my storms once they start, especially with something as small as a light touch on my skin.

“Mr. Dante, are you paying attention?”

The woman’s hoarse, haughty voice brings me back to reality and I glare at the new instructor. “I am capable of listening without keeping my eyes in one place. Don’t be ridiculous, human.”

She bristles immediately at the moniker and I roll my eyes internally. I’m not making a big deal of the fact that she should be calling me His Royal Highness, Elias Dante, first of his name and king of the Storm Dragons, but she’s pissed that I referred to her as a human. Chantelle is definitely a human and they don’t believe that to be a slur as far as I know. I have no idea what her fucking problem is.

“You will address me as Professor Chantelle, and I take exception to your tone. If I want to be educated on something, I will tell you, lockdown scum. However, you don’t have a single iota of knowledge I’d consider useful to me or my class, so that will never happen.”

Whoa. What the fuck just happened?

This woman just went from mostly normal to flat-out speciesist dictator in two seconds flat without any provocation. She wasn’t really pleasant before, but she certainly had a mask on when we first arrived to class. No wonder they picked her to teach this fucking topic; Chantelle Moakle is an expert at hiding her true self behind the disguise of a polite, cheery exterior. Her entire persona is a complete fiction and she just fucked up by showing us her hand too early in the game.

“Of course, Professor Chantelle,” I reply mildly, leaning back in my chair as I think about how we’re going to play this game two days a week for however long the training period is. People like this deteriorate quickly when questioned, especially if they’re hiding their complete lack of knowledge and expertise. While the demon, bear, and mage will be able to play along easily, I fear the vampire and the little rebel will struggle. For me, it will depend on the day; I was trained for diplomacy from birth, but I’m also a dragon.

“Can we get a move on with this? I think we’re all smart enough to understand that you want us to lie, cheat, steal, and abuse the people who follow us until they are so brainwashed that they will believe anything we say to them. That about sum it up?”

I knew the vampire was going to fuck up; I just knew it.

“Ah, yes, the vampire lord. Well, I’d expect you to know how to do this, given your kind’s betrayal of the rest of their world.” Chantelle gives him a smug grin, primping her messy rat’s nest as she bats her lashes flirtatiously. “Plus, you have such useful skills in this arena when up close and personal.”

I have to swallow a laugh when Sebastian gets a greenish-tint to his skin, obviously catching the less-than-subtle hint that this woman would let him fuck her into the next available surface if he so chose. “Good luck, man,” I mutter under my breath. “You might be the sacrificial vamp.”

“Absolutely not.”

Blinking, I look over at Sydney, her fists clenched on the desk as she grits her jaw. I might have expected that reaction for her bear or the demon—hell, maybe even the flirty mage—but never Sebastian. “Huh?”

“That is never going to be on the table—for any of us. Understand?”

Sebastian clears his throat and I notice that he’s done something to the room to keep this conversation from being overheard.

The motherfucker just slowed time and we had no idea he could do it.

“While I appreciate your concern for my mental and—by the looks of her—physical health, you cannot give our enemies this kind of weapon to work with, Sydney. If she’d been able to file this tiny conversation away in her mind, or worse, her official notes, you can bet that sex would be used as a weapon as soon as possible. Whether it’s leaked to other teams to divide and conquer or… uh… harm someone without their consent, sex is and has always been a major weapon of war. And make no mistake—this competition is a war between the teams and the staff.”

Her expression darkens and I see a faint swirl of black in the little rebel’s aura. “I will not allow that and you can mark my words, Bas. The first son of a bitch who tries to force anyone in my presence, even on other teams, will die so messily that they will be using vacuums to pick up the pieces.”

“So… fucking… hot,” Stormbringer groans as he looks up at the ceiling. “ Goddamn , I think I’m gonna blow in my damn pants if she doesn’t quit saying shit like that.”

Sydney whips her head around and gives him a withering look. “That doesn’t bode well for your sterling reputation as a sex god, Rory. Plus, you’ll walk around in dirty pants until after lunch. Maybe pinch it off or something?”

That gets a snort out of the demon, then a bark of laughter from the vampire, and soon, we’re all chuckling as the mage pouts. “Vicious, you’re wounding me. If only you’d give me a chance to prove myself…”

“Mother of mayhem,” Sebastian mutters as he catches his breath. “This idiot and his fucking ego are going to get us killed.”

I tilt my head at him, my eyes serious as I ask, “Why keep it a secret that you can slow time? It’s a fucking baller power for strategy; was that purposeful?”

Clearing his throat, the vampire sighs. “We can do a lot of things and some of them are closely guarded secrets within our species. Using this ability would normally be followed by wiping the memory of those who knew it happened—which I don’t want to do to my team. It causes… mistrust.”

“So does lying—even by omission,” the bear says as he shrugs. “So quit doing it or we’ll never believe the shit you spew, even the stuff that makes perfect sense. Syd will lose her shit every time and we’ll continually take steps forward, then backward.”

The blond girl nods, turning back to the vampire. “He’s right. Stop hiding shit.”

“Fine. But everyone get back into place and look forward at this nasty bitch. I need to let go and she’ll notice if we’re not in the position her brain expects us to be.”

I face forward, bracing myself for whatever tirade the scattered, two-faced woman teaching is in the middle of.

This day is going to suck.