“I thought you said this was music,” I yelled over the awful screeching of Numair’s favorite evil death metal band.

The other guys all agreed, sprawled around the living room of our suite in pajamas. As we’d walked back from orientation, the four of us realized we were all roommates and decided to hang out to kill time our first night. My agreement was casual of course, but I was excited—my first chance to really ingratiate myself with them and it came so easily. Mother would be pleased.

Numair tossed his long hair over his shoulder and sniffed. “Well, I see no one would accuse you all of having taste,” he said haughtily. His pretty features—obvious now that he wasn’t snarling in rage—didn’t match the violent screaming he was nodding along to. “That’s a real torture track they timed with the drums!”

“It’s awful,” Alceste called from the kitchenette, where he was whipping up a batch of Pop-Tarts and popcorn, the only snacks we had at the moment. Dinner was happening in the grand hall, but we’d all opted to skip it in favor of relaxing here. “I’m cooking, so I say turn it off.”

Numair scoffed, but Angelo reached out and switched the player off. “Good enough for me,” he said cheerfully, grinning at Numair’s glare.

“Dinner,” Alceste said loudly, making his way over with a whole sheet tray of different flavor Pop-Tarts and a ridiculously large popcorn bowl, “is served.”

He’d barely put it down before we were snatching sweets and Numair yanked the bowl from him, tipping popcorn on himself. “That’s what you get,” Alceste snapped, green eyes flashing in annoyance, Numair growled, baring his fangs, but before they could start squabbling, the front door slammed open.

Cassius stormed in, his striking features twisted up in a scowl. He left the front door ajar, striding into his own room and slamming the door behind him without a word. I felt my eyebrows go up and caught Numair’s eyes.

He gave an elegant shrug, his own anger forgotten. “Must be tough to be a prince I guess?” I said, flicking popcorn off his chest.

I rolled my eyes. To me, Cassius was nothing but a spoiled tyrant. He was probably just throwing a tantrum because something wasn’t going his way. But I knew better than to start gossiping about the prince’s mood swings. That wasn’t the way to earn trust, especially not if any of these guys were loyalists to the crown, like my mother. She wouldn’t hear a word against any of the royal line.

Not to mention, any of these men could potentially be working against the king. My list of suspects for the mole was more of an idea at this point, but anyone with the balls to plot against the king would have to be strong, and this suite of rooms held the most powerful students starting at the academy this year.

So I needed to be friendly and gain their trust, but never trust any of them myself. The only person I could trust here was me.

“Okay, how about first kill,” Angelo said, resuming our game of twenty questions. “Numair, it’s your turn.”

The vampire gave a savage grin, going from pretty to terrifying in an instant. “Idiot poacher thought he could steal one of my father’s wolves,” he said, then licked his tongue across his teeth. “First time he ever let me drain someone dry. Sweetest taste I’ve ever known.”

Despite his proud smile, Alceste scoffed. “Sounds like Daddy did all the work and you just had a drink.”

At Numair’s outrage, I found myself adding, “Yeah, we asked for your first kill, not baby’s first sippy cup.”

Angelo snorted, sending popcorn pieces flying and the squabble that erupted had me laughing genuinely along with them. Good, I’m fitting nicely into this dynamic. It shouldn’t be too hard to start my mission with them, especially since I could easily find a way to search their things if need be. If one of them was the mole, I’d need proof before I made my move.

If I was going to kill, I wanted everything in order first.

***

Later that night, after tossing and turning for hours, I gave up. My new room and bed felt too strange. Knowing there was no way my mother would come bursting through the doors in the middle of the night for an urgent mission or surprise training or a drill just to see how fast I moved should have been comforting, but it wasn’t.

I was exhausted but stressed and buzzed from one too many iced coffees, not to mention the possibility of being stabbed like in Angelo’s drawing. But the caffeine, at least, I could burn off. Pulling on a sweatshirt over my leggings, I headed quietly outside.

It was the wee hours of the morning and the academy was bathed in shadow and would be for a few hours yet. Tendrils of mist swirled over the grounds like ghostly fingers and the atmosphere was full of dark promise.

Even though I’d been taught to love all the dark things in life, been taught to cling to the shadows to hide my villainy, I hated them. The thick, inky pockets of darkness—you never knew who could be lurking.

Still, I forced myself to walk normally down the path that curved around the dorm, resisting the urge to summon a ball of flame to light my way. I’m master of this fear, not the other way around. Besides, I might not be the only one sneaking around, so staying hidden was the best—

“AAGHHH!”

A cry of pain pierced the night. I didn’t even think—I ran. The smarter thing to do would be to run away, but my feet didn’t ask my permission before carrying me toward the sound, toward the forest that surrounded the school, aptly named the Shadow Forest for its pitch-black pockets of darkness that the sunshine could never fully penetrate.

But I didn’t feel any fear, only urgency as I lit a ball of flame with a thought to hover ahead, lighting my way as I dodged branches and leapt over creeping roots, making my way toward the sound.

The cry came again, much closer, and I veered to the right, rounding a boulder, and—skidded to a halt in shock. Is this for real?

I didn’t get to see demons much—they tended to keep to themselves in the northern mountains—but I knew one when I saw it. And this guy…he had dark leathery wings tipped with wicked claws sprouting from his back. One was twisted at the wrong angle and I winced, imagining the pain that must have made him cry out like that.

Right, he needs help. I shook off my shock and crashed to my knees next to him in the plowed-up dirt. There were broken tree limbs around us—had he crash-landed? It didn’t matter, I just had to help.

“Who are you?” I asked, nudging my fireball higher so I could see better. “What can I do?”

I scanned over him, from the short, dark horns curling from his head to the shocking fall of his shoulder-length hair, so blond it appeared white, to his exposed, chiseled chest and dark leather pants fitted perfectly to his powerful frame… Focus, Liliana. I snapped myself out of it and tried not to ogle, focusing on his broken wing.

Dark blood trickled thick and steady and there was a shard of white I didn’t want to inspect too closely but knew was bone. “Can I touch it?” I asked. “This needs to be steadied.”

The man just grunted in reply, gripping his shoulder so hard his black talons drew beads of blood. I took that as a yes and mentally flicked through my talents. Fire could stop the bleeding but hurt more than help, air and earth were no use, so water it had to be. But first…

“Is there pain in your back and shoulder, or just the wing?” I asked. The man just grunted again, shifting on the ground. I sighed impatiently. “Do you talk, demon?”

He shot a glare at me with striking gold eyes. “Valrun,” he grunted out.

“I take it that’s your name, Valrun?”

Valrun nodded, then winced, hissing out a pained breath. “Yes, there’s pain all down my side,” he said between pants. “Are you gonna help me or what?”

I glared at his tone. “I have half a mind to just leave you like this. It’s what a supervillain would do.”

“Baby villain,” he muttered.

Was he serious? “Hey, screw you. I don’t have to be here.” Valrun’s teeth clicked shut as he realized he actually did need my help. I rolled my eyes but placed my hands at the point where his wing met his body, one on the back and one mirroring the position on his chest. A jolt of electricity seemed to shoot through my fingers and spread, as if my body, my very magic liked touching him.

Stop being horny and focus. We can ogle the pretty demon later, I told myself firmly, then turned my brain to thinking cool thoughts.

I called upon ice and snow, glaciers and frozen lakes. Arctic waters and frigid sleet, so cold it could freeze you where you stood, that mind-numbing tingle when you touched something so cold you instantly lost all feeling—all pain. I drew that feeling up in my core, my teeth chattering as it grew, and transferred it to him through my palms.

I felt the magic work through his shoulder—not as broad as Cassius, but still pretty huge—and down his back, calming the fire pulsing from his wing, I sent it sweeping over the jagged gash, stabilizing him until we could get to the infirmary.

Valrun let out a groan, half pain, half ecstasy, and sagged against me. The sound drew my eyes back to him, to the electricity that was still there under the cold. His hard, rippling muscles under my hands were still warm, though pebbled with goose bumps, and my fingers dragged over his skin of their own accord. He sucked in a breath and looked up at me.

Those golden eyes zeroed in on my mouth and I realized I was biting my lip in concentration. And that I wanted him to bite it next.

Okay, that’s enough, he’s fine. Hastily I pulled my eyes back to his wing, checking that it was frozen enough to hold before pulling my hands from his skin. Finally, I looked him in the eye. “That should be fine for—”

But I froze in shock as his golden eyes blazed and he leaned forward, his talons skimming gently across my cheek as he cupped my face, igniting even more sparks.

Then he kissed me.