The Acropolis

  Chapter 24

  Emma

  The bathroom is inhabited by at least thirteen she-Demons, and I am not prepared for the emotions that slam into me. It is mostly curiosity, although the anger and hatred I feel at my back is most definitely Lyre.

  "How did you manage to get assigned Conor Reinhardt as a Guardian?" a blonde-haired girl asks me from the sinks.

  I open the kit Conor gave me and settle in next to her. She is tall. Her head comes to my neck, and she has wide blue-grey eyes. She runs a toothbrush through her mouth before spitting loudly.

  "I don't know what you mean by did," I say honestly.

  The girl shakes her head.

  "Let me guess, you're an adoption case?"

  I nod.

  "We don't get many of those, but when we do, they are almost as naive as you. I'm Fiona, by the way," Fiona says as she offers me her hand.

  I take it without thinking, and I am immediately thrown to the floor. My hand is on fire. Fiona chuckles, and then offers me her hand again. I shake my head and stand on my own.

  "Electricity," Fiona explains. "I have an affinity with it. I'm all about laying what we're capable of right out on the table."

  "I'll remember that next time," I grouse as I turn the sink on, letting the cold water relieve the burning welt now on my palm.

  I look up into the mirror and grimace. The last couple of days have not been kind to me. There are dark circles under my eyes and wounds on my head. Thankfully, these are all covered by my hair, but I'm pretty sure the back of my head can't take any more damage.

  "You could heal those, you know," Fiona says, and I glance at her. She is watching my reflection.

  "Heal what?"

  She gestures at my palm, my head.

  "Your mother is Enepsigos. She has healing abilities."

  I run a yellow-handled toothbrush through my mouth as I contemplate her words. Healing abilities?

  "How do you all know so much about me?" I ask after I rinse and spit.

  Fiona's eyes widen.

  "Are you kidding me? You're the daughter of Enepsigos. Not only that, you are the only known half-mortal child of Enepsigos. Everyone knows about you. Especially Hell, and I would know because I lived there until I was ten."

  I'm dumbstruck.

  "You lived in Hell?" I ask.

  Fiona shrugs.

  "I did until it got too dangerous for hybrids. There's so many of us now that if one of us ends up dead down there no one cares. My mother sent me to live with my father's family here on Earth. Then two years ago, the Acropolis was opened, and I have been here ever since."

  I still can't wrap my head around the fact that she has lived in Hell. Hell.

  "Oh," I say finally. "Who is your mother?"

  I'm finding it a little intimidating that everyone seems to know exactly who my Demon parent is and what kind of abilities I should have. Everyone but me.

  Fiona smiles.

  "Ephippas. I like fire and electricity, and I am hell on trees. I can kill any kind of vegetation in less than two seconds," she says proudly.

  I honestly don't find the ability appealing, but I feign being impressed. My eyes move back to my reflection, and I touch my hair.

  "Can you show me how to heal the wounds," I ask timidly.

  The whole room goes quiet. I have a habit of silencing crowds. The only sound is the hiss of running water.

  "You want me to help you?" Fiona finally asks, her words sharp.

  I look around cautiously, taking in the narrowed gazes and gaping mouths.

  "Ummm . . . I was hoping you would?"

  The words were meant to be a statement of fact, but it comes out sounding like a question. Fiona clears her throat.

  "We don't help each other here," she says firmly.

  Again, I'm dumbstruck.

  "Why?" I ask, genuinely curious.

  Fiona looks at the other Demons. And then I feel it . . . fear. They fear each other. They fear their own greed. Fiona turns away suddenly, and then hands me a ponytail holder.

  "You'll need this," she says before packing up her kit and walking away.

  Conor is wrong. Demons are not without fear, but their fear is deeper. They fear power as much as they crave it. There is something wrong with this school. Conor and I have showed up at a bad time. Only a few days in, and I realize the school Conor believes in, the one he believes this school to be, isn't that school at all.