Coven (4 page)

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s my daily
. . .” Rapidly searching my head for any kind of medical
condition, all I could come up with was the fact that I was the
daughter of a demon warlock who was a blood drinker.
Blood! I
could have a blood disease.
“Pills for my blood thing
. . . my . . . anemia.”

“You mean iron pills?” Jett drawled out,
still looking relaxed as ever.

Iron pills. That’s what they’re called.
Damn, I’m an idiot.
“Um, yeah, those.” Thankful, when Seth slid
into the booth, I quickly moved in right beside him, avoiding any
more eye contact. If I were smart I’d spend the rest of the lunch
hour stuffing my mouth full of food so I couldn’t speak
anymore.

Taking a bite of pizza, I tried to stare
anywhere but at this Jett character. I couldn’t help it, though. He
was intriguing—a puzzle—a mystery I wanted to solve. I wanted to
know what kind of secrets he was keeping. I’d never met anyone so
. . . closed off.

Thankfully, Jett seemed to be ignoring me,
choosing instead to whisper with his girlfriend, interspersing a
few kisses here and there.

Get a room,
I thought, wondering if
everyone here was so relaxed with public displays of affection. It
didn’t seem to be bothering anyone else. Maybe it was just me, but
I didn’t think I should know what someone’s tongue looked like
barely a minute after meeting them. Megan seemed to be enjoying
whatever he was doing with it, though.
Hmmm. More power to them,
I guess.

“Are you the new girl who’s trying out for
the cheer squad this afternoon?” a really cute, all-American
looking, blonde girl asked me. I knew Seth had told me her name,
but I couldn’t recall it.

“Yeah, I am. Are you on the team?” I smiled,
hoping I appeared friendly.

“We all are,” she replied, gesturing to the
girls present—including Ms. Diva, who was hanging on Jett’s every
gesture. Wonderful. “Megan is the team captain. Since tryouts have
already happened, the entire team had to give permission for you to
try out. We also get to judge you, along with our coach, and a few
of the faculty. It has to be a unanimous vote for you to get
on.”

Well, there went my chances. I was pretty
sure Megan had already made up her mind to hate me from the
scowling looks she kept sending my direction. I felt like I was in
the remake of a bad high school movie. She was so cliché
. . . hanging onto Jett like he was her lifeline. I
wanted to jump up and say, “I get it. He belongs to you.”
And
you can keep him,
I added as an afterthought.

Instead, I responded to Blondie. “Well,
then, I hope you’ll all see something you like. What was your name
again? I’m sorry. I’ve met so many people today, it’s hard to
remember all the names.”

“Stephanie Peyton,” she said sweetly,
extending her hand across the table. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” I shook her hand, really
meaning what I said. She seemed very easygoing and her aura was
mostly a beautiful orange color, signaling to me her honesty and
good heartedness was something that made others comfortable.
Oranges were often social creatures, sometimes impatient and a bit
quick-tempered, but didn’t linger in anger and were quick to extend
forgiveness, as well. If Stephanie was anything like her color, she
wasn’t one to hold grudges. I felt like she was someone I might
enjoy getting to know better.

Unlike Megan, whose aura was a muddle of
colors that was so muted it mostly resembled dark brown—a color I
religiously tried to avoid, due to the nature of these people.
Brown auras suggested deception and selfishness. They were people
constantly finding fault with others, and I didn’t need any more
drama in my life.

My family had enough of that to last a
lifetime. I wanted . . . no, I
needed
this to be a
good move for all of us.

“So, why don’t you tell us all a bit about
yourself?” Seth suggested. “Like how you can fight.”

“You fight?” Another guy asked, glancing
over at me from an adjoining table that had been moved closer from
the center of the room.

“Yeah. My dad trained me, starting when I
was four.”

“What kind of fighting?” another girl asked,
interested.

I shrugged, not sure how to explain it. It
wasn’t like I’d gone to a gym and learned a certain style. My dad
had taught me all kinds of safety techniques and ways to protect
myself—mostly geared to the magical side of things—like fighting
off a demon hell-bent on drinking my blood. Namely him. “I’ve
learned all sorts of styles from all over the world. My dad has
traveled a lot.”

“That’s cool.” He turned back to his own
table, before taking another bite of pizza. That’s when I noticed
Jett staring at me.

“If you’re so good at fighting, how about a
challenge?”

Did this guy seriously want to test me? Or
was he just trying to get under my skin? “What kind of
challenge?”

“I do a some fighting, myself. I say you
meet me down at the ring and we have a sparing match.”

“The ring?” I asked, confused.

“Are you crazy, man?” Seth piped up. “You
can’t kick a girl’s ass. It’s rude.”

Jett shrugged. “She says she can fight, so
it shouldn’t be an issue.” His eyes turned back to me. “Unless
you’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared. I just don’t want to hurt
you,” I replied, not backing down.

“Oh ho!” Several of the guys called out.
“Burn!” someone else shouted.

Jett smiled for the first time since I’d
arrived. I didn’t think it was possible, but it made him seem even
hotter somehow. “It’s on then.”

“When and where?” I asked, feeling a
confident bravado wash over me.

“After football practice this evening. Come
to The Ring—it’s an actual fitness place. Seth knows where it is.
He can get you there since he seems inclined to be your tour
guide.”

“I don’t like this,” Seth practically
growled.

“Why not?” Jett replied.

“Because I brought her here to make friends
with everyone, not so you could beat her up!”

Standing, I gathered my leftovers. “Don’t
worry, Seth. Nobody is going to beat me up.” Turning, I left the
group, not even looking to see if he was following.

Chapter Four

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath,
inhaling the fresh, salty sea air. I concentrated only on my
breathing, refusing to let some jackass get me riled up on my first
day of school. There was no way I was telling my dad about this.
He’d package me up and have me on the next flight to the middle of
nowhere. I couldn’t go back. It wasn’t an option.

No. I simply was going to have to prove
myself “worthy,” it seemed.

The sound of a door closing caused me to
open my eyes. Seth was standing there with an apologetic look on
his face. I knew he hadn’t expected for things to go down this
way.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?
There’s no reason.”

“If I don’t, then Jett will always be
looking down at me, and so will all his friends.”

“I would never look down on you,” he replied
quietly. “Never.”

For some reason, I believed him. “It really
is going to be okay. I’m confident I will win.”

“He didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

Uh oh. That didn’t sound good. “What do you
mean?”

Sighing heavily, Seth glanced around before
moving closer and lowering his voice. “Jett fights in underground
cage matches. A lot of the kids attend them and place bets. The
whole thing is very illegal.”

I smiled. “So you’re saying he’s good?”

“I’m saying he’s really good. He hasn’t
lost, yet, and he’s fought guys a lot more muscular and older than
he is.”

“Bigger isn’t always necessarily
better.”

“True, but I feel you’re way out-matched in
this case.”

Shrugging, I began walking toward his car.
“I guess we will find out tonight.”

Those words must have convinced him I wasn’t
going to back out, because he didn’t argue. “Well then, I guess you
should at least give me your address so I can pick you up.”

Reaching around me, he opened the car door,
and I started laughing. “So is this our first ‘official date,’
then? That’s what my parents are going to ask.”

“Call it whatever you want, but I know for
damn sure I can show you a better time than this.”

I patted him on the arm and flashed a smile
at him before sliding into the seat. “Don’t worry, Seth. You just
might have the time of your life tonight.”

~~~

“Psst.”

Ignoring the sound coming from behind me, I
continued to study the glossary terms that had been passed out by
my history professor. I didn’t know anyone in this class, so I was
pretty sure no one was talking to me.

“Psst.” The sound came again. “New
girl.”

Slowly, I lifted my head and cast a glance
at the teacher, who appeared to have his nose buried in some sort
of thriller-ish looking novel. Casually turning, I looked behind
me, finding a smiling, slightly flamboyant guy with thick,
perfectly spiked dark hair. He was wearing a bright, fuchsia
colored shirt with a black vest over it. A necktie hung, loosely
knotted, well below his collar and his shirtsleeves were loosely
rolled up to three-quarter length. From his slouched position, I
could see dark jeans and flat tennis shoes completing the
ensemble.

“Yes?” I raised an eyebrow, wondering what
he wanted.

Leaning closer, across the top of his desk,
he whispered. “Is it true you’re gonna fight Jett Blackstone at The
Ring tonight?”

Seriously? How’d this guy know?
“Who
told you that?” I asked, curious.

Giving a small snort, he waved his hand with
an air of dismissal. “Girl, the whole school is talking about it.
I’d wager most will be attending.”

Something between a strangled laugh and a
cry of despair escaped me, catching the attention of the teacher.
Lowering his book, Mr. Parson flashed a disapproving stare in my
direction and I immediately dropped my gaze back to the terms in
front of me. I couldn’t afford to make teachers mad at me on my
first day, too.

“Psst,” the voice came, again.

Lifting my paper, I turned sideways in the
desk and continued staring at my assignment as if I was studying.
“What?”

“I think you’ve got balls, girl.”

I had to fight to hold in my laughter.
“Thanks. I think.”

“It was definitely a compliment.”

Smiling, I nodded, continuing to stare at
the sheet I was holding.

“My name is Franco Vera, but everyone calls
me Frankie.”

A quick glance at the teacher told me he was
stuck back in his book. “Nice to meet you, Frankie. I’m Kenna
Mangum.”

“So, who do I put my money on? The hot guy
or the new girl?” His eyes positively glittered with
excitement.

“I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be putting
money on anyone.”

“But I am.” He glanced over me as if he were
measuring me up. “He’s got a major size advantage over you.”

“Bigger doesn’t mean better.”

Grinning, he pushed my shoulder, and winked.
“It does with the important things! Am I right?”

Biting at the grin on my lips, I blushed and
shook my head. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, honey.” Staring at me, he made a tsking
sound. “We need to get you a man. Have you met anyone who looks
promising, yet?”

Struggling not to burst out laughing, I
wondered how the conversation had taken such a crazy turn. “I, um
. . . well, Seth Masterson has been pretty nice to
me.”

Closing his eyes, Frankie sighed, dreamily,
before popping them back open to stare at me. “That is one
seriously hunky piece of man-flesh. You have good taste,
girlfriend. You know he’s Jett’s bestie, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

Rubbing his hands together gleefully, he
grinned. “It’s all so dreadfully juicy. I can’t wait to see how it
all unfolds.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of class,
and everyone quickly began exiting the room.

“So I can count on seeing you there?” I
asked him.

“Definitely.”

“Then, if you know what’s good for you, put
your money on me.” Turning, I grabbed my books and stood, finding
Frankie still sitting there staring at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied with a slight shake of
his head. “Just admiring your confidence.”

I laughed. “That confidence is backed with
years of training.”

“Good luck, tonight.”

“Who will you be cheering for?” I
smiled.

“Why my girl, Kenna, of course. I don’t know
if you can fight, but you can sure put an outfit together.” He
waved his finger in a zigzag through the air over me. “Besides,
everyone knows it’s ‘hos before bros’.”

“Are you volunteering to be my ho?” I
couldn’t help my laughter.

“It’s a done deal, sweetheart. I’ve already
decided I like you.”

“Awesome. I like you, too.” I glanced at the
door. “I’ve got to go.”

“Where’s your next class? I’ll walk with
you.”

“Gym.”

“Hey, me too. It’s just two doors down. We
can run together if you want.”

I shrugged and followed him out of the room.
“Sounds good to me.”

~~~

My blood thrummed with the beat of the
music, adrenaline coursing through me as I twirled across the floor
in a series of back flips before landing in my final pose. Smiling,
I held my body strong and proud for several seconds before breaking
my stance to the sound of applause—both from the teachers, acting
as judges, and from the girls on the cheer squad. A quick glance
showed me that even Megan was clapping, although it may have been a
bit begrudgingly.

“Great job, Kenna,” Mrs. Nixon, the cheer
advisor spoke. “If you wouldn’t mind stepping outside while the
judges and the girls speak, we will call you back shortly.”