Hades Academy: First Semester Page 9

  “So you were right on the cusp?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “The whole thing took me off guard, really. I got word a few months ago that there’s a chance I’d be sent to Elysium. I always assumed I’d go to Hades, and my parents didn’t quite seem to understand what was happening either. Apparently it isn’t unheard of. But no one likes to talk about it.”

  I shook my head. “You ever think all this demon shit is a little too convoluted sometimes?”

  “Extremely so,” Morgan agreed. “But I live for it.”

  We all laughed at Morgan saying something that was just so Morgan. And it was at that moment, I realized that while I still hadn’t gotten a handle on my powers, I’d still accomplished something I’d never managed before in my life—making friends.

  It was corny as shit, and I loved it.

  Chapter Ten

  But I was also making enemies. Camilla and her crew continued to be the bane of my existence. And while most students didn’t seem to actually care much for her, they preferred to stay in the good graces of the hot shit demon purist rather than those of the half-demon who still couldn’t even manifest her powers. Easy choice right there.

  She was always at her worst in Lattimore’s class. It was like having to learn even a small sliver of human history ignited something deep within that turned her from a regular bitch into a mega-bitch. Even Lattimore, who was normally super cool-headed, was having trouble hiding his disdain for her.

  “So, who can tell me how the Black Death was indirectly responsible for the Renaissance?” he asked one day in class.

  He’d just explained that, of course, the plague that wiped out a giant part of Europe’s population in the 1300s was partly a demon fuck-up. That was beginning to become a theme of his class. A demon goes just a touch too far and boom: everyone’s got bubonic plague.

  Camilla’s hand shot up when he asked the question, and Lattimore had no choice but to reluctantly call on her.

  “I disagree with the whole premise of your lecture,” she said, entirely ignoring the question. “I don’t think it’s right to frame something like the Black Death as a mistake we made. It ended up working out for those stupid humans anyway, right? There were too many of them for their own good, starving to death and whatever, and the plague solved that problem.”

  “Now that,” started Lattimore with more than a hint of frustration in his voice, “is a discussion better suited for philosophy class. The question we’re focused on here is how all those deaths created a cultural environment that helped plant the seeds of the Renaissance. Not musing over whether it was the right call.”

  She was pulling that kind of shit constantly. The condescension would be one thing, but the amount her non-answers slowed down class was honestly just as unforgivable. And God forbid Morgan or I—or anybody really—answered a question correctly or showed genuine interest in the material. That was enough to unleash a whole host of snide comments.

  And then there was my other enemy. But could I really call him an enemy? There was no way I would call him a “friend” at all, so frenemy didn’t quite fit him either. Nemesis? Rival? Nope and nope. A thorn in my side? Sure, that worked.

  I couldn’t not see Raines. Hades Academy just wasn’t that big. Besides, it was like I had a sixth sense when it came to telling when he was near—I mean, not a literal sixth sense, because that would imply that I was actually achieving some level of demon capability. No, this felt much more...human. My pulse would quicken, and my skin flush with goosebumps, and I’d turn around and then there he was.

  Red eyes.

  I still didn’t know what was up with that, either. It didn’t seem like something he could fully control, and it was decidedly freaky.

  Still, Raines in Wilder’s class was preferable to Camilla in Lattimore’s class. Rather than slow things down, he mostly stuck to shooting death glares at his half-brother. If I didn’t know any better, I might even say that Raines was scared of him, or at least intimidated. Ever since their exchange underground, he hadn’t challenged Wilder on anything. His stares did enough to express his disapproval.

  At the same time, I could ‘t pretend that a pissed-off Raines wasn’t also ridiculously sexy. He had one of those faces that somehow looks good with a frown on it, and he managed to wear his hair just a little too long in a way that didn’t look affected or sloppy, but just...right. I liked it when he looked at me from across the common room, and I even kind of liked the attention he’d given me when he’d pulled me aside and given me one of those vague warnings. Besides, there was something about a guy in a tie with his shirtsleeves rolled up. I know the whole sexy-school-uniform thing is supposed to be for creepy old dudes looking at teenage girls, but when I looked at Raines, well...I could see the appeal of the buttoned-down look.

  If there’s a Latin word for hating somebody while still being inexplicably drawn to them, that would perfectly describe how I felt about Raines.

  “One of the most philosophically knotty concepts in all demonkind is soul binding,” Wilder was explaining to the class. I was doing my best to pay attention, but the first part of my exetasis was literally the next day—well, okay, not literally, since it took place at midnight that night. But close enough. “I’m sure many of you are already familiar with soul binding. But I’ll explain briefly for those of you not in the know.” I could swear he shot a glance at me, but I could’ve been imagining it. “Basically, it’s a process through which two demons become inextricably connected, granting them both greater power and protection from forces like Chaos.”

  Great, another demon thing I might never be able to actually do.

  “But,” Wilder added dramatically. “It comes at a great cost. If not, we’d all be soul binding willy-nilly. For one thing, you can only bind with one other soul. No more. And once you’re bound, you’ll often feel all the things the other is feeling. If your soul partner is feeling depressed? Pretty good chance you’re going to feel depressed, too. If the one you’re bound with dies...well, that might result in your death, too.”

  Personally, it didn’t sound like a great tradeoff to me. No way would I risk feeling shitty whenever some other person was having a bad day in exchange for a boost in my (currently nonexistent) powers. For life? No, thank you. It sounded like a recipe for a supernatural toxic relationship.

  “It happens less these days, given the relatively safe times we’re living in,” Wilder continued, “but I’m sure many of your parents are soul-bound. Married couples say it’s a way for them to become closer and fall deeper in love. And there might be some truth to that. We’ve seen through the generations that soul-bound couples are more likely to have lasting relationships than non-soul-bound couples. But any good philosopher knows not to attribute cause and effect so readily. It might just be that couples who are already a good match are more likely to soul bind. Just some food for thought.”

  If I had to do a soul binding, I’d want it to be with a guy as hot as Wilder, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking. Like, he did always seem to be in a good mood, so maybe being bound with him would make me a happier person overall.

  He’s your professor, Nova, I chided myself. And in just a few hours he’s more than likely going to be giving your non-powers a failing grade. Get a damn grip.

  “Ready to do something fun?” Wilder asked the class. “To explore the philosophical ramifications of soul binding, I’m going to break you into random pairs. You’ll pretend that you’re a couple considering going through the binding process and discuss the pros, cons, and ethical questions that might arise. Maybe a little corny, but I think it’ll produce a productive conversation.”

  I looked around the room trying to imagine the least awkward person to be placed with. Not that I had to imagine for long. The worst would, of course, be Camilla. Though it might be kind of entertaining to imagine how much of a petty drama queen I’d become if we were bound together forever. She’d probably kill herself just to drive me to an early death.


  No, the preferred pairing would obviously be Morgan. Or even somebody random who I hadn’t had any sort of significant interaction with yet. There was a guy a few seats down—I think his name was Robert or Roger or something like that—who seemed completely normal and inoffensive. He was my ideal partner.

  “Camilla and Teddy,” Wilder called out. “You’re our first pair.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. This was going to be fucking awful for Teddy, but it was going to be even worse for Camilla. Yeah, I felt bad for him, but it was the funniest possible random pairing. That’s if the pairings were random. Maybe Wilder just had a sick sense of humor.

  He continued to call out pairs until I suddenly heard “Raines and Nova.”

  Well, damn.

  He’d managed to pair me with the second-worst option in the room. I was sure Raines would try to convince me to boycott the activity in favor of whispering things to me about all the people at Hades Academy who I should steer clear of for reasons.

  When I sat beside Raines, neither of us said a single thing for what felt like a minute or two. We just sat there in a weird, tense silence while the others went about the activity. I spied Camilla and Teddy across the room also sitting quietly—he had a little smirk on his face, which made me happy to see, because at least he was acknowledging how funny the circumstances were.

  “I don’t believe in soul binding,” Raines finally said. “My mother is bound with somebody she doesn’t even love anymore. I wouldn’t wish what she goes through because of that on my worst enemy.”

  I was intrigued. I knew asking more was probably dumb of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. “So was she soul bound with Wilder’s dad?”

  “Yes,” he said curtly.

  “Must be pretty awkward.”

  “Awkward? It’s horrendous.”

  I sighed. “Do you always have to pile on the doom and gloom?”

  That one actually seemed to break the facade. For the briefest of seconds, I could see him laugh at himself before regaining his composure.

  “I’m a realist, that’s all,” he said.

  “I’d hate to bind souls with you and be so damn mopey all the time.”

  He looked me right in the eyes and got all serious. “Not all of us have had perfect happy lives, okay?”

  Asshole, I thought. He didn’t know the half of it.

  “Yeah, because I’ve had such a nice life living with more foster families than I can count and squatting in random apartments every night. Having to scam people to make enough to eat made me so damn happy. You know what, you’re right. I’ve had such a charmed life. What was I fucking thinking?”

  Raines didn’t say anything. I might have actually taken him by surprise. He flexed his hands on the surface of the table, then looked up at me. Right at me. With his genuine, non-red eyes, that deep golden color boring right into me. The feeling hit me like a tidal wave: quickened pulse, a tingle washing over my skin.

  “I’m sorry.” He didn’t break eye contact. “I didn’t know.”

  Finally, I looked away. “Let’s just get on with this activity, okay?”

  I stared at my satchel for a few beats. I felt like I needed to catch my breath, like I’d just sprinted up the Grand Stairway in ten seconds. If being glared at by Raines was unsettling, getting actual empathy from him was positively destabilizing.

  “So,” Raines said. “Pros.”

  “Pros?”

  “Of soul binding.”

  Oh. So we’re actually doing this, I thought. He must feel so guilty that he was actually going along with the hypothetical.

  “I can’t even remember,” I said.

  “That’s because there aren’t many.”

  I thought of my impending exetasis. “More power.”

  “Safety against Chaos.” Raines glanced at me. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  My gaze flickered to Wilder, who I couldn’t help but notice was keeping a steady eye on us as he walked slowly amongst the pairs in class. “Pretty much.”

  “Cons,” Raines said.

  “Risking your life,” I said. “Huge commitment.”

  “Subject to somebody else’s whims,” Raines said. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. Wilder was right in his sightline.

  “Can I ask you something?” I blurted out. Raines wheeled back to me, and for a minute I thought I was going to get the red eyes.

  But nope. Golden.

  “You just did.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Damn, sorry. But seriously. I’ve been wondering...” I glanced at Collum, who was paired with one of Camilla’s cronies, the girl with emerald-colored hair, and Aleksandr, who’d lucked out and gotten a totally normal partner in the form of Robert/Roger. “What’s up with the Infernal Three? Are you guys just the Plastics of Hades Academy, or what?”

  “The who?”

  I bit back a smile. Of course Raines hadn’t seen Mean Girls.

  “Nothing. Just...what’s the deal? There seems to be a deal.”

  Raines glanced over his shoulder at his friends. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

  Aaaaand we were back to cryptic generalities. I opened my mouth to say something sassy back, but Raines spoke up again.

  “There’s soul binding, and then there’s real connection. That’s the problem I have with it. It gives you safety, sure, but it’s fake. It’s based on magic instead of on trust. It’s bullshit. You shouldn’t need an insurance policy if you really trust the other people.”

  “So the three of you—”

  “We trust each other,” Raines interrupted. “I don’t expect you to understand. But yeah, if it came to it, I’d probably die for Col and Aleks. And they’d do the same thing for me. No binding needed.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “So what you’re saying is that you oppose soul binding on purely...philosophical grounds?”

  Raines’s mouth twitched. “Don’t try to make me seem like him, Donovan.”

  The rest of the cons weren’t difficult to come up with. Potential death, incompatible energies, blah blah blah, it went on and on.

  The thing was, Raines wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t trying to be the Saddest, Maddest Boy on Earth. And I’d never say it to him—at least not more than I’d already implied—but he was more similar to Wilder than he’d like to admit. He had a suaveness to him that really shone through when he wasn’t trying to put on a front. And they both thought about this stuff. They weren’t just knee-jerk demon purists like Camilla. Being a demon meant something to both of them, even if it wasn’t necessarily the same thing.

  Which raised the question: which one of them should I trust? Raines seemed convinced that his brother was literally The Worst Person—well, Demon—in the World, but could that really be true? I had a feeling most of his feelings were based more on whatever happened with their parents than with Wilder himself. Maybe they were both fundamentally good dudes, just...different.

  Teddy and Camilla seemed to have no such breakthrough. She was simply staring into space while Teddy wrote furiously onto a sheet of paper. Apparently, there was no way he was going to let her get in the way of his grades.

  “Okay!” Wilder clapped his hands. “That’s enough. Let’s regroup, shall we?”

  The class settled back into its usual formation.

  “So, what conclusion did we come to? Overall, is this practice of ours a net positive or net negative?”

  Hands flew up, and the discussion launched with a bunch of back-and-forths about the relative value of protection versus restriction—once again, blah blah blah. For one thing, I was thinking about my exetasis, because I could barely go five seconds without the cold fear of...whatever was going to happen taking over my stomach. For another, I was still acutely aware of Raines’s presence next to me. If my exetasis just tested me on my physical reaction to his presence, I’d score off the charts.

  “These are all great arguments,” Wilder said after a heated few minutes. “I’m glad you all are really thinking about
this.”

  “So what’s the answer?” Camilla said. “Is it good or bad?”

  “I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Wilder said. “As you might have noticed if you’d been paying attention, Ms. de Locke, philosophy isn’t about finding the answers so much as asking the questions.”

  Morgan snorted, and, to my surprise, so did Collum and Aleksandr.

  “But if you want to know what I think”—Wilder glanced around the classroom—”I think it poses a fundamental risk to demonkind.” His eyes flashed behind his glasses. “Additional power? Great. The unbreakable commitment? Absolutely a consideration. But those are individual problems. Those just affect the lives of the demons involved in the bond.”

  “Isn’t that what you were asking us about?” Morgan said. “How it affects us?”

  Wilder swept his hair out of his face. “No. No, it wasn’t. Ultimately, your individual existence isn’t what matters.”

  A shiver ran down my spine.

  “Yes, it matters to you. But the world isn’t about you. It’s about us. It’s about all of demonkind. It’s about the millennia of demons who lived and died before us and the legions of demons yet to be born who will carry on when we’re dead.

  “So if you ask me—and I guess you are—the only argument needed against soul binding is that it makes it easier to kill two demons at once.”

  The classroom fell dead silent.

  “And, on that note,” Wilder said, just as the giant bell echoed through the class, “we’re out of time. For the next class, read the selected portions of the Atharvaveda and come prepared to discuss. Bonus points if you can read it in the original Sanskrit.”

  I grabbed my satchel and went to stand. A hand grabbed my elbow.

  “I really am sorry,” Raines stood, too, drawing up to his full height so that he was staring down at me. “I know how I can come off sometimes.”