Page 13 of Misfit Monsters (Pack of Outcasts #1)

Mirage

A s I prance nimbly along the back of the wooden bench, my claws dig into the wood to steady my shrunken body.

The sleek, furred form that’s my natural state in the mortal realm moves through the world much more swiftly than my larger, human-like presence.

I can leap and whirl and pounce in an instant.

I spring onto the patio stones of the reform building’s inner courtyard, spin just for the sake of feeling the air ripple over my thick fur—and prick my ears at the sound of a cleared throat.

“Mirage, you know students are supposed to maintain an appropriate mortal appearance as much as possible.”

I snort as much as my snout allows and shift into human-ish form.

Toni is facing me, her arms crossed over her chest—a typical pose for the school administrator who hassles me the most. She’s tall for a human woman, putting her almost perfectly eye to eye with my average male height.

I cock my head and grin wide enough to show my fangs that linger even in this body. “Foxes are mortal creatures.”

Up goes her eyebrow. “Not with five tails, they aren’t.”

I spread my hands in a gesture of innocence. “I can’t help it if my animal form comes with bonus features.”

“You can help whether you take it on.” She frowns at me. “Your teachers report that you’re still making partial shifts at random times. You know that isn’t acceptable. Do you not want to make your education here work?”

Do I want to be banished to the mindless dull of the shadow realm instead, she means.

I give my head a vigorous shake. “I’ll do better. All foxiness will stay inside. Scout’s honor and never a bother!”

I give her an enthusiastic salute, but her frown doesn’t budge. “You’re getting low on chances, Mirage. If it matters to you, you’ll follow the rules.”

Rules are the dullest thing of all, I think but don’t say. The need to challenge people, to break them out of their drudgery and invigorate their lives, is woven into my essence.

But I suppose I can do more of that without indulging in my fox self, as much as I enjoy it.

After Toni has stalked off, I make a few spins on two legs rather than four. This body is decently spry too.

I flip over the bench, whip around while balancing on one hand, and slink over behind another bench where two beings are deep in conversation. They look much too serious.

I can help with that.

I crouch low behind the bench, gathering myself. Then I bound over the back, right between the two of them, tumbling into a somersault on the other side.

The two beings jerk apart with a yelp. I give them a wave, and they burst into laughter. “Oh, it’s just Mirage. ”

Pleased, I saunter on through the courtyard. At the far end, two other shadowkind sit at a small table. A gameboard lies between them, black and white pieces marching across the pattern of squares.

They’re focused so intently on the game that they don’t notice I’ve strolled nearby. A glimmer of mischievous inspiration passes through me.

I wiggle my fingers at my side. The board seems to stretch and curve as if it’s forming a mountain in the middle.

The players freeze, gaping at their morphing toy. With another wiggle, I make the wooden surface appear to undulate like waves. The pieces whirl in a manic dance.

“What the fuck?” one of the beings says. The other’s jaw looks like it’s about to fall right off.

Suppressing a chuckle, I close my hand, dismissing my magic. All at once, the game looks like a regular board again.

As the players peer around them, I pretend to be fascinated by the flowers sprouting along the edge of the patio stones as if I had nothing to do with the prank.

A bright but gentle voice speaks from a couple of feet away. “Why do you do things like that?”

My head snaps up, a grin springing into place automatically. The shadowkind woman with the turquoise hair that sometimes glows is watching me, her head tilted as if she’s curious rather than annoyed.

She has a pretty face. An intriguing body with lots of slopes and valleys to explore. There are certain special games it might be delightful to play with her.

“Do what things?” I ask, even though I can guess what she means. It’s more entertaining to make people explain themselves.

She motions toward the table. “Surprising people. Startling them. You seem to do that a lot, but kind of randomly. ”

I let my grin widen. “It’s fun. Gotta get all we can before we’re shoved in a van!” Human language allows almost as much play as human bodies. The way words bounce together when they sound similar gives me a quiver of giddiness.

I have the urge to pop my fox ears out to add to the amusement, but I haven’t forgotten Toni’s recent warning. Maybe I can get away with that tomorrow.

The new shadowkind woman’s smile has tightened a little around the edges. Almost as if she’s getting sad.

“You don’t seem like you’re totally having fun,” she says. “There’s something else… Did someone hurt you? Do you need help?”

It’s my turn to freeze in shock. What does she mean—how could she?—?

Oh. She glows emotions, and she must pick up on them too. The way she’s talked to our classmates—yes, I should have seen it.

What does she think she’s seeing in me ?

For a second, I can feel her peering under my skin, into a jumble of images that rise up at her attention. Stark lights and gleaming bars, burning metal, squeals and whimpers?—

I cast off the fragments of memory with a twitch of my limbs and a buoyant laugh.

I am having fun. As long as I keep moving, nothing can catch up with me.

Why is she trying to trip me up, get me stuck?

I lift a shoulder in a partial shrug. "I'm thinking you should mind your own business. Sorry if you don't like a little play when it could make your day."

The fall of her pretty face brings a twinge of regret—another emotion I don't want gnawing at me.

"I didn't mean I don't like it,” she says. “You're really good at brightening up class. I was just?—"

I turn on my heel and amble away from her as if I can't hear her speaking, adding a brief swish of a tail for good measure before I whisk it out of sight. Guilt pricks at me, but it isn't as if I owe her anything.

I meander around the courtyard again, doing flips to conjured applause. The smiles and giggles I get in return should set me at ease, but restlessness winds through my chest, propelling me onward, farther, faster.

I know where to go when I'm feeling that way.

I leave the courtyard and lope through the halls to the gym. This late in the afternoon, no classes are using it, but it's too early for the recreational morphball games my classmates sometimes set up. Perfect.

With a little shake, I transform my jeans and loose collared shirt into a tee and running shorts. Then I launch myself along the track formed by lines painted on the varnished floor.

You wouldn't think running in literal circles would be satisfying. Before I came to the academy, sometimes I'd work out this energy by racing through the streets of whatever city or town I found myself in, dodging mortals who'd flinch out of the way.

But the combination of exertion and predictability is strangely gratifying. I can slow down or—more often—push myself faster, and nothing will stand in my way.

I circle around the track, each iteration a little faster, a little more burn in my legs. The sensation will disappear as soon as I slip into the shadows, but it's exhilarating while it lasts.

On my sixteenth circuit, another student pokes his head into the room. He looks so big and dopey that I chuckle to myself.

He walks over to examine the metal crate that holds the sports balls. A picture sparks in my mind, bringing a sly smile to my lips .

As I come around the next bend, I curl my fingers—and nudge my power against the latch on the crate’s lid so it pops free.

The front of the crate swings open. Balls tumble out over the unsuspecting shadowkind, bonking him in the head and chest.

I expect him to simply sway and then laugh like I've just started to. But apparently he's not all that steady in his human body.

He staggers to one side and the other amid the bouncing balls. One trips him right over. He falls with a smack of his head against the floor and an accompanying cry of pain.

Coach Brandish materializes out of the shadows with a fierce expression. "Mirage! Why would you attack Cliff?"

I hesitate as she rushes over to help him to his feet. "I didn't mean to hurt him. It was just a little trick."

"A trick that did hurt him." She lets out a huff, glancing back over her shoulder at me. "I’m reporting this incident to the administration. They won't be happy about it."

Her threatening tone raises my hackles. I shed the discomfort with a chiding click of my tongue. "Our great leaders shouldn't hate."

She points toward the doorway. “Go to your dorm bedroom. Now .”

When I waver, she takes a step toward me, an eerie sheen lighting in her eyes. “I said go. You can take yourself there or I’ll have Jonah compel you.”

A shiver ripples down my spine at the memory of the sorcerer’s magic. I duck into the hall.

At least I can get a little more of a run in.

I jog toward my dorm, seeing if I can outpace the sinking sensation in my gut.