Page 33

DON’T MAKE ME OVER

SYDNEY

The rest of the cult class was as revolting as before Sebastian shared his little secret. I have no proof that it will be the one I hate the most, but given its topic, it’s highly likely. I recognize the value of keeping secrets when needed and I also understand that our team has to market itself for popularity. I’m just not happy with using such disgusting techniques to get ahead. Unfortunately, if the conversations we’ve been having about revolution are truly the goal—we’re going to have to get in bed with dogs and deal with the goddamn fleas.

Absolutely against my nature and it rankles me to the core.

Walking into Strategy I’m ready for this to be as onerous as the previous session, and I’m getting hungry again. It seems to be a growing problem since my secret removal by the centaur doc, so it must be part of the powers I’m supposed to have breaking free. I can’t ask anyone, though, even the guys. That one piece of information feels dangerous to share, even with Huck and Thad—I don’t want them to be punished if it’s discovered. If only I know, they can only torture or kill me for the offense. I’m okay with that, but not with putting my friends in the crosshairs.

“Welcome to Strategy things no one should ever experience or witness.” We all look at Elias as he stares back at the professor with a blank expression. “It was not only men, or women, but even children and babies in my first camp. Your kind committed atrocities that will haunt those who witnessed them until the day we die and, as you said, it’s much further away than your last days.”

The dragon’s flat affect doesn’t surprise me, but imagining what he must have seen almost breaks through my walls to make me emotional. I have to look away so I don’t lose my grip on my control. Elias may harness stoicism to that level, but I am not immune. I can almost hear tiny cries of pain and it’s making my hands tremble. Huck catches my eye and I feel a small push of strength zing through the air to slide over my skin.

That son of a bitch is trying to help me, but it only makes me feel weaker not to do it on my own.

Clearing my throat, I finally speak. “Fine. You’ve suffered and you might be an ally. Let’s get this lesson over with so we can move on to the next horseshit we have to endure today.”

“I like you, Sydney. Your spirit may earn you serious consequences, but if you pay attention here, I might teach you to be strategic about how you use it. After all, we can endure the pain when it benefits us, yes?”

Whatever you say, human.

The rest of the day went fairly quickly until the session I was dreading most—until I met Chantelle, of course— Beauty Maintenance .

I cringe the second we walk in the door and see six curtained sections that obviously separate us while the bubbly looking redhead with perfect teeth and a filler-worthy smile claps her hands. This is going to be the absolute fucking worst; I was mistaken earlier. Not only do I have zero interest in being primped and pampered, but it’s impractical for the stupid games, anyway. How will we fight with fake nails? Be for real.

“Welcome, my new creations!”

Ugh, no fucking way I’m letting that stand.

“I’m no one’s ‘creation’ and I resent you suggesting it,” I bite back as I wait for the others to file in. “What a stupid way to ensure we all despise you.”

Huck chuckles as he stands next to me, tucking his thumbs in his boot loops. “My sweet pea is right, little lady. Humans damn sure didn’t create any of us; all you did was abuse and imprison us.”

“So dour!” The woman tsks, wagging her finger as she looks at each of us with an assessing eye. “That will make the ‘grumpy alpha’ lovers swoon, but it will also give you wrinkles. Be careful how often you do it.”

“Supes don’t get wrinkles—well, most don’t,” Thad corrects himself as he crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Rolling her eyes, the redhead walks over to the wall, pulling an armful of robes off of hooks, then coming back to us. “You will need to go behind your curtains and put these on with your undergarments. Today, my assistants and I will work on the following treatments to get you camera-ready: waxing, trimming, plucking, injecting, buffing, and modifications. Based on my initial assessment of your team, I realize you’re all very well proportioned and physically fit, so we are going to really lean into the team name by making you fit the ‘rebel’ image completely. I’m going to message Krista to let her know you’ll be quite late for free time in order to get a good jump on the work we need to do.”

“Wait a minute, lady—” I protest, but she shakes her head.

“Nope! Not your decision and if I have to strap any of you down, I will, but this is my canvas, and you will behave so I can give you the best chance at winning. I understand you may think, ‘But Gemma, you don’t own my body’ and you’d be right—except unfortunately, the FSHA owns every being in the camps and you all know it, even if you hate it.”

Sebastian looks ready to rip her throat out, and Elias seems similarly affronted, while Rory just sighs. He’s used to this sort of treatment, I suppose, which makes me sad. The mage won’t fight it and his expression is telling the rest of us we shouldn’t, either. The woman won’t hesitate to make good on her threat by his defeated gaze, so we’d best get this over with.

I hate this fucking timeline.

“Fine,” I reply before any of the guys get us tied up like we’re criminally insane. “We understand what you’re saying. But we don’t have to like it or you, nor do we have to be happy about it.”

Gemma smiles brightly. “But I promise you will . My gift—though nothing like supernaturals—is to imbue your spirits into the looks I craft and I am well paid for it because I am that good. If you want to regain your freedom in victory, Miss Jolie, I promise your image is a large part of that. I will give you the power to draw followers and diehard fans with the crook of a finger. You’ve lucked out in getting the absolute best tech in the entire program, and I will prove it to you if you simply let me do my job.”

Thad grunts, tilting his head as he watches the woman plead with us, then finally nods sharply. “Fine. You’re good and we should listen. How does that translate to a twice a week class?”

“I’m glad you asked, Mr. Calvin!” Gemma beams as she hands him a robe. “This look will require several sessions of prep work—getting you to the full vision I have for you—and then maintenance, just as the name of the session suggests. We have to keep colors, sculpting, and all the small pieces that aren’t as permanent as body art and other modifications fresh for the cameras and media. You will, of course, destroy some of my work during events, which my team will correct as needed. It is work to be the avatar of your themes, and we will work all the time.”

“Does that mean there’s homework , so to speak?” Rory asks in amusement. “Things we have to do outside of class?”

“Without a doubt, Mr. Stormbringer. We will provide you with kits containing everything you need for daily care of our artwork, and you will make certain to do as asked. If you don’t, we’ll know and that would be… unfortunate. Please don’t force me to notate files that way. I don’t want to end up covering far worse things than what I plan to do to your bodies.”

And there’s the threat of torture—what a great way to end our day.