Demon Kissed - Katie May Page 0,33

eyes are locked together, and everyone else in the room seems to fade away. I only see him.

Breathless, I reach down and slide my fingers across the textbook lying open in front of him. I gently shut it. Then I pick it up while Kastros watches. His eyes trail up me like vines and wrap around my wrists.

I gently bonk the side of my head with the book. “There. Justice served.”

There’s an audible gasp from the rest of the class as they wait to see how Kastros will react.

He’s slow and deliberate when he picks up a pen and pulls out a sheet of paper from the top drawer of the desk. His script is elegant and old-fashioned when he writes, I am vengeance. Not justice. You can only serve vengeance on your knees. He underlines the last three words.

As if he’s commanded them to, my knees start to tremble. When he hands me the note and his fingers brush mine, electricity shoots through me.

I feel as though I’m half a second from death. And as terrified as I am, I’m also a little, tiny bit thrilled.

I fold the note in half and slowly back away. I return to my seat with my throat still tight.

Everyone is dead silent and still, like rabbits watching a predator, hoping it won’t see them. When Kastros stands, every eye is on him. When he turns to the board, startled glances are exchanged. When he writes, Get to work, there’s a mad scramble for notecards.

As I tuck his note into my bag, I see it one last time. And it’s only then that I realize that “on your knees” might have a different meaning than I originally thought. It might not mean at the tip of a sword—I mean a sword-sword, a real sword, not a…never mind.

My eyes fly up to Kastros, wondering if my brain’s just in some fevered, near-death state of horniness—is that even a thing?—but just then, Janie St. James and the bimbo crew walk in the door.

Janie leans across the teacher’s desk, her shirt in clear violation of the dress code. She’s not wearing an undershirt, and she has one too many buttons undone on her uniform blouse. I swear I can see her nips from here.

“Hi! Are we late for decathlon?” she asks in a simpering tone. “We all want to join.”

And somehow, despite everything that just fucking happened, my day gets even worse.

I pair up with Tim and Wade while Janie and the others fan out around Kastros’s desk. His grumpy expression doesn’t change, but something about all of that doesn’t sit right with me.

Those girls don’t give a shit about decathlon. They shouldn’t be here. “They’re going to ruin our chances at state,” I mutter.

Tim and Wade are as distracted by the view as I am, though I’m pretty sure they’re focused on Janie’s short skirt and not Mr. Kastros’s buff forearms as he rolls up his shirt sleeves.

He starts writing notes for each of the new girls, four in total, and I just about burn to death with curiosity over what he’s written. Does it have any double entendres like my note?

For some reason, I hate the thought of that.

Probably because Akor has somehow turned me into a psychopath, I think as I shuffle my notecards about Africa.

Wade looks at me and smiles, revealing his dimple underneath some thick red acne. “You ready for this? Because I don’t think you can handle this!” He starts singing the old Beyoncé song and dancing in his seat.

He’s awfully fucking chipper. Maybe the book to the head did him good. Or maybe the bimbos in the room are making him light-headed. Either way, Wade’s not being his normal level of douche-nozzle.

Small blessings, right?

I force a smile and start to quiz Wade. “Until 1960, Congo was under the control of what country?”

Wade scoffs, leaning back in his seat, his feet sliding toward mine, prepping for our foot-mashing tradition—if you get an answer wrong, we have a rather childish yet effective method of toe stomping to make you study your ass off. “Belgium. Try harder next time, Kat.”

I blow out a breath. It was too easy a question. For all his asshole ways, Wade’s got the brain of a sea sponge—he soaks up information. I should have dug through my cards. But the way Janie’s leaning over Mr. Kastros’s desk has me distracted.

I turn in my desk so I’m not facing them. I have to focus. Wade does not show mercy.