Page 53 of Fallen Gods

“I’ll start!” Ziva smiles brightly. “I’m Ziva.” She rattles off a list of hobbies that sounds like a dating profile. Something about hot yoga, candle making, and, “I love long walks on the beach.”

Girl, please.

Her lips twitch. Okay, so she knows she’s being ridiculous. Our other classmates nod and clap like she just recited Shakespeare.

“Hi, Ziva,” the surrounding students chant.

One little push of my Aethercall and they’d all be too dazed to notice me. But no. I’m on my best behavior.

The dark-haired girl in the row in front of us turns around fully and raises her hand. “I’m Gaby Smith from Tacoma. Business major. I bake, but not cookies, too basic. Cupcakes only. I’m going to open a shop on the pier and marry a fisherman.” She shrugs at our blank stares. “So we can live off the land. Sustainably.”

Cute. Self-sufficiency via cupcakes and salmon. Why does she sound so damn cheerful about it?

By handshake number two, she yanks another student into her orbit. “I’m a hugger!”

Please don’t touch me. Please don’t touch—

She reaches for me, then jerks her hand back, shaking it. “Whoa! Shock. Your aura’s spicy!”

I force a laugh. “Static. Happens.”

All eyes fall to me. Oh shit, it’s my turn.

“Hey, everyone. I’m Rey.” I deliberately leave off my last name, then gently push my Aethercall. Not enough to alienate, just enough to distract. “Undecided on my major. But looking forward to discovering the path I’m meant to take. Life’s a journey, you know.”

“Word.” Ziva coughs to my right.

I shoot her a smirk. Yeah, she barely knows me and already can tell I’m full of shit. Well, at least that’s one person in my corner.

I sit back down to the chorus of “Hi, Rey!”

Next we meet Jameson Jacobs. A nice if not overly bookish guy, with floppy bangs and enviably perfect skin, who seems to have the unfortunate luck of being named after a porn star. Not information I would’ve known. Yet he led with that.

Jillian Merritt from Arizona’s a psych major. And on the basketball team.

Hector Salas from California, premed.

Engineering. Finance. English lit. Biochem.

A dozen total strangers offer insights into their goals and personalities.

It hits me like lightning: I’m jealous. And not just a little. So jealous it burns behind my eyes.

What would it be like to bake cupcakes and make study dates? To rush a sorority? To plan for a future, a real one, that didn’t involve blood and death and violence?

I glance up—and freeze.

Aric.

He’s watching me from across the room.

My heart thumps wildly against my chest like it’s begging to be noticed—heard. Adrenaline surges through my system. He’s my target. My enemy. The first and only person to ever really see me.

That’s what made his rejection of me all those years ago cut somuch deeper.

Just when I think I’ll have to look away, he does first. Like I’m not worth staring at.

Students continue chattering around me, but I can’t get the gnawing in my stomach to go away. I didn’t expect being smack-dab in the middle of a normal college campus to affect me so much.