here? We haven’t seen you around this week; did you get in late?”
“Um, yeah… something like that.” I walk over cautiously.
“You must be a first year.” He notices my brows pull together and explains quickly, “We’re all second years, and we haven’t seen you around before.”
“Oh, right. Yeah. My powers only… uh, manifested a few days ago.” I gesture to the fading bruises that still mar my face. “That’s where I got these.”
“It’s always a bit of a scare when your magic first sparks.” The brown-haired guy who elbowed the blond smiles gently at me. The man with the almost-black hair looks… well, I think if I spat on him, he’d look less offended by all this.
“By the way, I’m Cam,” the blond says, grinning. I already picked up on his name, but I nod anyway, shaking his hand when he offers it. Then he jerks his chin toward the other two. “The judge of my comedic talents is Asher, and Broody McBrooderson here is Dima.”
“Dmitri,” the surly guy corrects, in a tone that says if I ever call him Dima I’ll lose a limb.
“Is that Russian for super friendly?” I snap, annoyed that he’s somehow decided he hates me when he’s known me for less than thirty seconds.
Asher looks alarmed at the turn this conversation has taken, but Cam just laughs.
“Oh shit! Looks like we finally found someone who’ll go toe-to-toe with you, Dima,” he says, punching his grouchy friend on the arm. Then he turns back to me. “Seriously, don’t mind him. We won’t let him bite.” He winks, then adds, “You’re new; I bet you could use a friend or two.”
He’s right about that. Hopefully one of them will be able to show me the ropes around here.
And my initial assessment at the bar wasn’t wrong. They’re all insanely gorgeous. Not that that’s the only reason I’m still talking to them, but it’s no hardship that they’re easy on the eyes. Cam’s got this all-American good looks thing going—tall and broad-shouldered, with tan skin and striking sky-blue eyes. Asher is muscled but lean, with forest-green eyes that seem to notice everything. His dark hair flops a little into his face, and he has a quiet, solemn air about him.
Dmitri, the bastard, is breathtakingly handsome as well. He has a razor-sharp jawline shadowed with a bit of scruff, piercing dark eyes, nearly black hair that gleams in the sun, and shoulders that indecently stretch his damn t-shirt.
Don’t do it, Elliot, a little voice in my head warns. Do not let yourself be attracted to someone who’s such an ass.
But despite that very sensible voice in the back of my mind, I find my gaze lingering on him several heartbeats too long.
“So, what kind of magic do you have?” Cam asks, and I almost jump. I rip my gaze away from Dmitri, blinking a few times as if to clear my vision.
“Um… it was described to me as a kind of sonic boom.”
“It was described to you?” Dmitri scoffs under his breath. “You weren’t there for it?”
“I was a little busy with your mom,” I reply sweetly.
Cam busts up laughing, and Asher ducks his head down, a small grin on his face. I swear I hear Dmitri growl.
“I can absorb magic that’s sent at me,” Cam says, his eyes still dancing with humor. “Gives me a temporary boost of strength and power. And I can teleport, which I would definitely do right now to impress you and show you how awesome I am, but…” He shrugs and holds up his brace, upon which has been painted a dick.
I cock an eyebrow. “Classy.”
He just shrugs, completely unashamed. I find myself grinning in response. I haven’t met someone who’s this damn open and shameless in forever. It’s the complete opposite of my personality. I’m more closed off than a clam shell, but… I like it. I like him.
“Dmitri can phase and duplicate himself,” Cam goes on.
“Phase?”
“I can become incorporeal.” Dmitri speaks slowly, like he’s having to tell me what two plus two is. “Allows me to walk through walls and things like that.”
“And Asher here can read minds,” Cam finishes, elbowing him. “Even control them a little.”
Unlike the other two guys, Asher looks horribly embarrassed. “I don’t use it,” he says, shaking his head. “Or I try not to, anyway.”
His fingers trail lightly over his brace, as if making sure it’s still there. It’s clear he feels his power is more of a burden than a gift. I totally get where