Page 11 of Stormbringer (Tracthesian Academy #1)

“H ey, wait up, Wayla!” Salis’ voice finally broke through to Wave, and she slowed her steps as he jogged to catch up with her.

“We are not going to talk about that. Ever.”

“Duly noted,” Salis said seriously and then glanced about. “Are we talking about the wind though? I mean, I knew you got a scholarship, but damn.”

Wave fought to keep her cool and stared ahead. Then she bit her lip. “How many noticed?”

“Um… I don’t know, but I don’t think that many were paying attention to that, if you know what I mean.”

Wave sighed. “Thank heavens.”

“Why?”

Wave blinked and then looked over at Salis. His hair was tousled, and he looked confused. She debated on confusing him further, and it felt wrong. He had been nothing but nice and supportive to her.

“Uh,” she began, but Salis spoke over her.

“You are a storm spirit. Water and wind clearly come naturally to you. I just didn’t expect you to be so…”

“Out of control,” Wave supplied.

“I was going to say robust or something along those lines,” Salis defended. “Besides, storm spirits mature early, right? Not like us baby-face angels.”

Wave nodded. “How old are you anyways?”

“Ouch.” Salis held his heart dramatically. “You wound me.”

“Ha,” she snorted.

“I’m forty-five,” Salis confessed easily. “Late bloomer.”

“Doesn’t really matter on the bigger scale,” Wave replied.

“True. Storm spirits live up to five hundred, right?”

“Something like that,” Wave evaded. Storm spirits, like any other spirits, lived so-called middle-tier lives that equaled hundreds of years. Stormbringers could reach thousands of years like archangels or archdemons and other higher beings.

The whole class system was idiotic in her opinion. There were enough crossbreeds, most in fact, nowadays to throw all those predictions to whack. Hell, she was one.

“Don’t tell me you’re fifteen or something like that,” Salis groaned. “I couldn’t take that.”

“Twenty-five,” Wave murmured. “Officially,” she added and then immediately cursed. Stupid to let even that much slip, but she liked Salis. He was the closest thing to a real friend she had ever had.

Salis’ brow shot up. “Twenty-five, got it.” He nodded enthusiastically. Wave smiled, relieved. “All the Powerhouses are close to a hundred, as far as I know,” he said, leaning in closer. Now his face turned serious. “They are not called Powerhouses for nothing, Wayla.”

Wave bit her lip. Age wasn’t necessarily a sign of power. It gave you more time to hone what you had, but in most cases, you were born with what you had. She really should keep her mouth shut. She really, really should. Glancing around them, she pulled Salis closer.

“Where would you rank them?”

Salis arched a brow but leaned closer too. “You know this is general gossip that everyone guesses about?”

“Well?”

Salis sighed. “No one knows for sure. But their parents are mostly from top tiers or top of middle tiers, and I’ve seen enough to know that they can hold their own in most cases.”

“And there are twelve of them.”

“Yeah, well… Wayla, most beings are afraid of that much power. The auras alone…”

“Um, are you?” she asked. If he said yes, she didn’t know what she’d do. Wave couldn’t be sure, but her guess was that her powers and aura would easily mingle with the most powerful beings on this campus. Salis looked over her and then slowly shook his head.

“Not as such.”

The relief that swept over Wave must have been evident because Salis quirked his brow at her. “Thank fuck,” she whispered faintly.

“I’m guessing some other things are official only too,” he muttered. Wave started to pull back, but Salis grabbed her arm. “I’m not going to ask, Wayla. Just, if you want to talk, I’m here, okay?”

She gave a slight nod, and that seemed to be enough for Salis. He returned to their previous subject easily.

“So, the Powerhouses. They could have been at each other’s throats. Instead, they banded together. Safety in numbers and all that, I guess. I bet not all of their parents were happy about that. All the politics involved must be a headache.”

Wave nodded. If she ever claimed the inheritance from her father, it would throw her right into those games, too. It might come to that if she slipped or got cornered.

Even after all these years, Wave felt sorrow and rage thinking about her father’s death.

According to another official lie, he had died in a freak accident.

Nothing to investigate or dig up. Like an heir apparent to one of the most powerful factions could die just like that.

Wave wasn’t sure who was behind the cover-up, but someone was.

The chilling part was the possibility that her own family might be involved.

Not once had grandfather pushed for an official investigation.

Wave shuddered slightly. Her stormbringer bloodline was a tangled web of politics, deceit, and power struggles.

Still, dealing with a fallout from that side of the family would be better than admitting her other side.

The moment someone discovered her siren heritage, a ticking clock would start on her life.

One very fast ticking clock. Again, Mother did the math for her before she allowed Wave to attend the academy.

She wanted to make sure she really knew the risks.

Her fingers bumped against the little sheath she always carried in a chain around her neck, and Wave realized she was rubbing her neck. She shook herself furiously.

After one fortifying breath, she forced herself to forget. She wasn’t going back there, she refused to remember.

And then she blinked and groaned, thumping her head against Salis’s shoulder.

“What,” he asked, bewildered.

“I have private tutoring today after work. With Jarred,” Wave wailed against his shirt. “Save me?”

Salis had the nerve to chuckle. “Sorry, babe. You’re on your own for that.”

“Then kill me now?” Wave lifted hopeful eyes up at him. Salis reached over and ruffled her hair.

“Just kiss his brains out like last time and you’ll be fine.”

“You are no help at all. I’m starting to question our friendship after all.” Wave pouted. Yes, she knew it was ridiculous, but that was what she did.

Salis patted her on the top of her head. “I have faith in you, sugar.”

“Thanks, cookie,” Wave answered sourly, causing Salis to burst into bright laughter.

“Come now, sweet pie,” he hollered. “I’ll walk you to work.”

“How chivalrous of you, cupcake!” Wave snarled and then grudgingly followed him.

W ave fought hard to focus during her shift, but clearly, she failed to present the calm and collected front she aspired to, as evidenced by Mrs. Riverson’s several long glances. She couldn’t know about the kiss, could she?

Apparently, she did, because ten minutes before her shift ended, she called Wave over and told her, with a devious smile, that she could use the last few minutes to freshen up.

Wave escaped to the bathroom as quickly as her feet could take her.

Whatever had possessed her to kiss that man? Not only were sirens notorious for their failed attempts at romance, but they tended to get killed themselves or their lover did. In the end, death always came calling. Even when the siren fell for a wraith.

And why the fuck was she thinking about romance?

She didn’t believe in that shit. There were no glasses, rose colored or otherwise, in her future.

Beings like her that could control minds had high stock on ‘get captured and sold for profit’ market, not on ‘I trust you with my heart and mind’ market.

When she caught herself once again tracing a finger over her throat, Wave growled and then splashed cold water on her face.

Focus . Wave glanced at her phone to see the time.

She had exactly seven minutes to get her nerves under control and devise a plan to put professional distance between herself and Mr. Tasty.

No, Mr. Whitfurst. She really needed to keep that in mind. He was her teacher for all intents and purposes. Her brain tried to bring up the fact that she was allowed to date a teacher here, but Wave swatted that notion aside. Just, no.

Still, she took time to re-braid her hair and made sure she had nothing stuck in her teeth. She also sent a vague prayer up that Mr. Whitfurst hadn’t heard about her scene with Hellion. The chances of that were slim, but a girl had to hope for something.

With a few minutes left on her shift, Wave emerged from the bathroom to find Jarred, no dammit, Mr. Whitfurst , chatting with Mrs. Riverson.

“Ah, there you are, Wayla,” Mrs. Riverson said. “We have all well in hand here for tonight, so you are free to go.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Riverson.” If the woman noticed Wayla sounded a bit stiff, she didn’t let on. Mr. Whitfurst turned to look at her and motioned to the door.

“Shall we?”

“Sure,” Wave replied and walked out ahead of him. The entrance didn’t feel menacing to her anymore. She looked over her shoulder. “Where to?”

“I’ve reserved one of the warded rooms for us, but it’s nice weather. Care to take a long route and stretch our legs? I’ve been cooped up doing research the whole day.”

He sounded so casual and at ease that hope sprang into Wave’s heart. Maybe her prayer had truly been answered, and he didn’t know about Hellion.

“Sure,” she hurried to answer and moved to walk by his side. The streets in this part of the campus were pretty narrow, but even and well-maintained. She focused on Jarred and asked, “What are you researching at the moment?”

“Moon tides and their magical effects. Quite boring, I know.”

Wave bit her lip. To her, there was nothing boring about moon or tides; part of her power ebbed and flowed with them. But there wasn’t anything she could say in the matter, so she just hummed her agreement.

“How are you adjusting to your life here at Tracthesian Academy?” Jarred asked.

“It’s different for sure,” she admitted.

“How so?”

“The food is better,” she blurted. Slowly, a smirk spread over Jarred’s lips.

“It’s a wonder you’ve had time to eat any of it.”