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Episode 3

The halls are silent yet full of people darting around to whatever destination they're assigned. Fletcher smiles and winks at a group of young office assistants. They scatter and side step his usual tractor beam charm. He sighs and picks up the pace leaving Iva and I behind.

I’m used to people’s hesitant stares and sudden maneuvers to distance themselves from me. But this is different. The air is heavy and suffocating as if the building itself is holding it’s breath. Ever since word got out about the mission and our involvement in the deaths of other warrior-born. Rooms go quiet or empty, and hard glares are cast our way wherever we go.

And with General Targe in a coma, the awe and reverence the Elite Squad held before has turned into leers of distrust, and damning rumors. And it’s my fault. My fault for turning the best squad in the nation into something to fear instead of revere.

“It’s not you.” I offer.

“Why do I even care?” Fletcher throws back his head.

“They’re just short sighted civs. You can’t have anything long term with them anyway, warrior-born.” Iva reminds him.

I never gave thought to it, but Iva’s right. What’s the point in Fletcher chasing the civilian female population. Warrior-born have to produce more warriors for the survival of our nation.

“Long term? Are you crazy?” Fletcher turns around to walk backwards waiting for Iva’s response. “Who wants that? I’m just talking about needing a little scratch now and then. It’s been over two weeks and look at the state of things.”

He whines, slowing down to walk with us. Iva shakes his head and taps away on his wrist device. “The results of the investigation were just released. Give it time, man.”

“Time?” Fletcher’s voice echoes in the halls drawing attention our way. “What’s going to happen to me if this goes on much longer?”

“I agree.” I say.

Iva trips and Fletcher stops.

“You agree?” Iva narrows his eyes.

“My man, that’s what I’m talking about.” Fletcher sidles up to me and throws a heavy arm over my shoulders with a little shake.

“We could go at this from both sides.” His eyes take on a sparkle. “With your cool, broody vibe and my more appealing, hotter side those civs don’t stand a chance. Goodbye dry spell.” Fletcher hops away from me and clasps his hands together with a manic gleam.

“I agree about this blowing over.” I clarify. As if I could do whatever Fletcher is dreaming of.

“Whaaat? Aw c'mon.” Fletcher’s shoulders round and his head hangs.

“You’re an idiot.” Iva goes back to his device leading us to demon studies.

***

Cole is assigned a seat next to me in demon studies. Another of the captain’s attempts to keep him close. And we’re both annoyed by her plan. It’s uncomfortable as hell and neither of us know how to treat the other.

Before, we accepted our roles. I was the villain to Cole’s hero. I knew that part like the back of my hand. But now, we’re lost. He’s walking a fine line between what he was and the truth that’s changing him.

His stiff stature and distant gaze is a failed attempt to act unaffected. And this forced proximity isn’t helping. We all need space and time. Instead we've been sliced open daily, sliver by sliver, served up for Centrum on a microscope slide since we’ve been back.

The classroom air conditioner is cranked up high and my long hair tickles my forehead in the breeze. At least the desks are taller than the stiff creaky wooden ones at the academy. There’s room for my legs to stretch. I can’t focus on the lecture, my body is tense responding to Cole’s presence. It’s bad enough sitting next to him all the time, now he follows me for tutoring sessions with Edna too.

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The professor is droning on about things we learned at the academy. The rest of the squad sits dutifully taking notes or pretending to take notes. The captain’s honey scent drifts back to me too infrequently to be soothing. I lean closer to the window away from Cole and stare out the thick tinted glass.

I enjoy a hint of the sun’s warmth before the artificial air chases it away. Edna’s small frame and flowery long skirt pass through the courtyard. She stops behind the old oak tree and I can’t make her out anymore. Buckler rounds the stone bench from the opposite direction and falls into the shade of the same tree. Neither comes out the other side.

“Trade with me next class.” Cole says in my ear, making me jump back.

“Huh.” He huffs out studying my surprise. “This is no time to be losing your touch. You’re not, right?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. Don’t do that again.” I rub a few fingers over my ear.

My senses should have heard him moving closer, heard his heartbeat, felt the change in the air current or temperature.

“You’re suppressing too hard.” He says.

I can’t do anything but stare back. Why is he talking to me? I narrow my eyes and he stays still holding my stare.

“What are you doing?” I say.

“I’m asking to sit by the window in the next class.”

“I mean why are you being...” I wave my hand at his face, at his relaxed posture, at his forced calm demeanor. A small version of his cocky smirk appears and then vanishes in a heaving sigh.

“Don’t analyze or do that creepy observation shit you do. I don’t know what I’m doing. Which means you sure as shit won’t figure it out either.”

He turns and throws his back against the hard wooden chair and crosses his arms. With all the crap he’s made me endure my whole life, a huge part of me wants to hit him while he’s down. But I recognize that vacant, hopeless acceptance he carries.

“Yeah whatever. You can have it.” I mutter and turn towards the window. A golden pin shimmers by the oak's roots in the empty courtyard.

“Your assignments for the next class are in your files. I’ve been instructed to cover the Outer Reach. I recommend you all do the reading before tomorrow's class. Dismissed warriors.” Professor Umber has been all business for the last few weeks.

No chit chat or unnecessary interactions like every other person in Centrum. His overlapped belly jiggles as he high tails it out of the classroom before we can even stand up. The few that haven’t shown any change towards us are Buckler, the library staff, Dr. Quinn, and Jane.

“Well that’s not alarming at all.” Luce says.

“He's as squirrelly as the rest of them.” Fletcher mopes down the aisle to the exit.

“She means the Outer Reach. The fact that we’re being refreshed on that now.” Addy steps up to the captain’s side.

“You don’t think…” She starts to ask but the captain’s nod in agreement leaves her gaping, speechless.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a mission prep.” The captain exits the classroom ahead of us.

Kane’s grunt and Iva’s hiss have me turning to Cole. I have no reason as to why that’s my reaction but he’s staring at me too.

“I’m going through the courtyard.” Is all I can say. Seeing us in sync is freaking me out.

“Ok.” He answers and falls in line with me to the glass doors.

"It wasn't an invitation."

"Deal with it." His focus is on the courtyard and its colorful sunlit garden.

Ignoring him is the best I can do. I step out into the sun. The day’s warmth isn’t enough to break the chill that’s set into my blood. My mind on the Outer Reach. It's the farthest into the Mist any warrior has ever been and returned from. But those that returned all died shortly after.

The Reach is where the scientists believe a hierarchy of demons resides. Where the Rex demon and others like it can be found. There aren’t any completed maps of the area.

The crunch of leaves under my boots signal the cold winter is about to set in. The air has the crisp clean bite to it that comes right before a hard snow. There won’t be a mission during a snowstorm and the weather can change quick. Hopefully quick enough.

We approach the wide oak sitting sentinel in the center of the courtyard. Manicured hedges, flower beds and pristine stone benches are its only companions. A gold shimmer against an ancient gnarled root catches my attention. It’s a delicate golden pin. Its filigree twists and turns to shape a spiral pattern. It’s thin and light weight in my palm. I’m afraid to bend it.

Cole's thick meaty fingers scoop it out of my open hand and I’m stunned he got another one over on me. He holds the pin up to the sunlight, turning it this way and that. He squints and then his brows shoot up before falling into an uninterested mask. He drops the pin back in my palm but doesn’t meet my eyes looking ahead, down the cobblestone path.

“Are we going or what? You don’t want that spit fire Edna on your ass for being late and wasting her time again.” Cole snickers.

“It happened one time and it was because of you, smart ass.” I stomp down the path with a chuckling Cole behind me and the delicate pin in my palm burning my curiosity.