nearly killed five gargoyles. My memory may be fuzzy, but
Deidra hasn't had any trouble filling me in. By the time Marion
presented me with clothes to wear to the main building, I knew
exactly why Deidra thought I was "bad ass."
"You are a good person," Marion repeats, her
hand touching me tentatively. Her words are comforting, but her
actions, her expressions are fearful, unsure.
"You don't know that," I whisper as I finally
step forward.
Deidra is immediately next to me. For the
first time, I see uncertainty on her impish face. There is laughter
in the Acropolis. The building is massive, the ceilings vaulted
with exposed wooden beams and stone floors that appear ancient,
untouched. There are massive fireplaces in the hall. No furniture.
A stone gargoyle sits at the foot of a spiral stone staircase.
There is a floor-to-ceiling mirror on one side of the room and
weapons hanging along the wall. I don't ask why.
"Make them like you," I mumble to
myself. It is something my mother is always telling me. Just make them like you,
Emma .
"That's not possible," Deidra mutters as we
approach a large entryway. Beyond it is a room lined with three
massive mahogany tables, chairs filled with students ranging in
age. They are an eclectic mix. Some are young, maybe no more than
ten years of age, while others look older than me. And they are
loud. I am bombarded by sound.
Along the walls, men and women stand, many of
them in their late twenties. Only a few look to be in their teens.
One of them is Conor Reinhardt, his arms folded as he leans against
the wall facing the room. Will is next to him. Rachel isn't far
from Will. These are the gargoyles. Some of them Guardians. Our
judge and jury. I am feeling decidedly less than perfect.
"They've noticed you," Deidra whispers.
She is at my back now, clinging to the
loopholes in my jeans, her face just visible at my side. A strange
feeling sweeps through me, a warm one. It's the first time I've
ever been considered a protector by anyone. I wonder briefly what
I'm supposed to do if I have a panic attack. Jump under a table and
bring Deidra with me?
And then I notice the silence.
All eyes are on the door, on Marion, on me.
I'm not quite sure how to handle the attention. It's the first time
I've ever been in a public situation where I haven't been
completely overlooked. My palms are sweaty, and my heart is beating
so fast I can feel it in my temples. People are sneering now,
waiting.
I get a quick glimpse of Conor's face, but he
is avoiding my gaze. I'm alone, and for the first time, I realize
that it's not only the hybrid-Demons who are watching me, it's the
gargoyles. Their stares are intense, watchful, and I realize they
expect me to make a mistake. I am being tested.
"Everyone's a critic," Deidra snorts. Her
words make me smile despite my terror. She is a crass little thing,
evidently worried about the people inside the dining hall, but she
is fearless in ways I'll probably never be.
Marion moves ahead of me, and I follow her
slowly, my eyes on her back, Deidra still clinging to my pants. If
people are so determined to dislike me because I'm terrifying, they
are getting a whole new perspective. It's hard to be scary in a
boy's jeans, a practically cropped black top, and an imp clinging
to my backside.
Chapter 17
Conor
She's getting better at hiding her fear.
My eyes track Emma as she moves across the
dining hall. All eyes are on her, but she moves forward. She isn't
confident, but in my opinion, that makes her braver.
"She's going to fail," Tom Henry says from my
right. He guards Lyre, a greedy she-Demon with a bad attitude.
"I'm betting she finishes ahead of your
mark," Grace Withers says from farther down the wall. She guards
Fiona, another she-Demon, no less greedy but potentially a good
protector.
"She's too skittish," Tom argues.
Grace snorts.
"You are about as observant as a piece of
toilet paper, Henry. Watch her eyes."
I watch Emma as she turns,
Deidra hasn't had any trouble filling me in. By the time Marion
presented me with clothes to wear to the main building, I knew
exactly why Deidra thought I was "bad ass."
"You are a good person," Marion repeats, her
hand touching me tentatively. Her words are comforting, but her
actions, her expressions are fearful, unsure.
"You don't know that," I whisper as I finally
step forward.
Deidra is immediately next to me. For the
first time, I see uncertainty on her impish face. There is laughter
in the Acropolis. The building is massive, the ceilings vaulted
with exposed wooden beams and stone floors that appear ancient,
untouched. There are massive fireplaces in the hall. No furniture.
A stone gargoyle sits at the foot of a spiral stone staircase.
There is a floor-to-ceiling mirror on one side of the room and
weapons hanging along the wall. I don't ask why.
"Make them like you," I mumble to
myself. It is something my mother is always telling me. Just make them like you,
Emma .
"That's not possible," Deidra mutters as we
approach a large entryway. Beyond it is a room lined with three
massive mahogany tables, chairs filled with students ranging in
age. They are an eclectic mix. Some are young, maybe no more than
ten years of age, while others look older than me. And they are
loud. I am bombarded by sound.
Along the walls, men and women stand, many of
them in their late twenties. Only a few look to be in their teens.
One of them is Conor Reinhardt, his arms folded as he leans against
the wall facing the room. Will is next to him. Rachel isn't far
from Will. These are the gargoyles. Some of them Guardians. Our
judge and jury. I am feeling decidedly less than perfect.
"They've noticed you," Deidra whispers.
She is at my back now, clinging to the
loopholes in my jeans, her face just visible at my side. A strange
feeling sweeps through me, a warm one. It's the first time I've
ever been considered a protector by anyone. I wonder briefly what
I'm supposed to do if I have a panic attack. Jump under a table and
bring Deidra with me?
And then I notice the silence.
All eyes are on the door, on Marion, on me.
I'm not quite sure how to handle the attention. It's the first time
I've ever been in a public situation where I haven't been
completely overlooked. My palms are sweaty, and my heart is beating
so fast I can feel it in my temples. People are sneering now,
waiting.
I get a quick glimpse of Conor's face, but he
is avoiding my gaze. I'm alone, and for the first time, I realize
that it's not only the hybrid-Demons who are watching me, it's the
gargoyles. Their stares are intense, watchful, and I realize they
expect me to make a mistake. I am being tested.
"Everyone's a critic," Deidra snorts. Her
words make me smile despite my terror. She is a crass little thing,
evidently worried about the people inside the dining hall, but she
is fearless in ways I'll probably never be.
Marion moves ahead of me, and I follow her
slowly, my eyes on her back, Deidra still clinging to my pants. If
people are so determined to dislike me because I'm terrifying, they
are getting a whole new perspective. It's hard to be scary in a
boy's jeans, a practically cropped black top, and an imp clinging
to my backside.
Chapter 17
Conor
She's getting better at hiding her fear.
My eyes track Emma as she moves across the
dining hall. All eyes are on her, but she moves forward. She isn't
confident, but in my opinion, that makes her braver.
"She's going to fail," Tom Henry says from my
right. He guards Lyre, a greedy she-Demon with a bad attitude.
"I'm betting she finishes ahead of your
mark," Grace Withers says from farther down the wall. She guards
Fiona, another she-Demon, no less greedy but potentially a good
protector.
"She's too skittish," Tom argues.
Grace snorts.
"You are about as observant as a piece of
toilet paper, Henry. Watch her eyes."
I watch Emma as she turns,
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