Demon Accords 8: College Arcane (8 page)

“Smart. But what else can you do with them?”
he pressed Jetta.

“The various sizes fit inside the hollow
points of most common pistol ammo. If I come into possession of a
handgun, it’ll likely have hollow points in it and I can make them
effective for werewolves, er, all weres and I guess vampires, too.
I can glue them to the top of a shotgun slug or open the case of a
buckshot round and put them inside.”

“And how would you come into possession of
such a weapon?” he asked.

“Honestly, Mack can just go buy them here in
Vermont. This is America. Guns are all over the place. Hell, half
of the houses in this state probably have at least one gun in
them.”

“Clever girl. Now then, what’s this?” he
asked, darting with faster-than-human speed to pick out a ziplock
baggie of powdered grey material from Mack’s pile.

“Homemade Tannerite, sir,” Mack said. “It’s
still separated, so it’s not activated.”

“Tannerite… anyone know what it is?” he
asked.

“A commercial binary explosive formed from
ammonium nitrate and powdered aluminum. It’s set off by a
high-energy kinetic event, such as a rifle round impacting it,”
Caceo said.

“Yes, of course you would know that, Miss
Jensen. So you have a legal explosive, but how will you set it
off?” he asked, pocketing the baggie.

“If I have access to a rifle, then it’s easy.
If not, then each baggie has a .223 round in it, which I can use to
improvise a firing mechanism. It’s a little tricky, but I’ve done
it before. I’m a pretty fair machinist.”

“I hope you are paying attention, class.
Parabellum—to prepare for war,” he said, wandering over in front of
Caeco’s pile. Hers had a more professional look to it.

At least six knives—two of them ceramic—in
flat kydex sheaths, a collapsible steel baton, a set of lock picks,
a coiled wire garrote with t-shaped handles, plastic triangular
darts, a small black micro flashlight—probably for signaling, as
she came with excellent night vision—an expensive butane lighter
that I knew burned really hot because she’d shown it to me, a
disposable cell phone, a small wad of twenties and fifties, Kevlar
cord, gloves, and a vial of e-liquid for an electronic
cigarette.

“Smoke much, Miss Jensen?” he asked, holding
up the vial of liquid nicotine.

“No sir, but it’s a high concentration of
nicotine and poisonous to most humans. Not sure of its effect on
weres or vampires.”

“I don’t think it would do much if anything
to a vampire, but it would make me lightheaded for a bit. Maybe
enough to disorient me. It could possibly kill an adult human if
you got the whole thing into them. Nasty, Miss Jensen, nasty,” he
said.

He looked around the room, visibly coming to
some decision. “This is as good a time as any. After discussing it
with Mrs. Velasquez, we are agreed that this class will benefit
from having Miss Jensen assist me in teaching you. In case you
haven’t caught on, she has a wealth of training and experience that
will benefit all of you. So effective immediately, Miss Jensen is
my Teaching Assistant.”

“I Challenge,” Delwood immediately roared. “I
should be assisting and I’ll prove it in combat.”

Chapter 8

“This isn’t a pack, Mr. Singer, and there are
no Challenges here,” Jenks said, looking angry for the first
time.

“I’ll fight him,” Caeco said calmly. “If it
will settle his concerns about his status, then fine.”

I expected Jenks to shut her down but
instead, he studied her carefully. Then he nodded.

“Okay. So be it. But everyone in this class
needs to know that this is a one-time exception to shut Singer up.
You all will be doing plenty of fighting… so much that none of you
will want to Challenge for anything. Now clear the floor,” he
said.

My shocked classmates climbed to their feet,
tired expressions changing to either fear or excitement.

“Rules: strictly hand-to-hand. No Changing,
Singer, or by God you’ll regret the day you were born. No kill
strikes or major crippling moves. First incapacitated or first to
tap out,” he said as he cleared the floor, making all the kids back
up to the walls.

Delwood was stretching and flexing, looking
more apelike than wolfen. My girl was standing relaxed, watching
him with narrowed eyes. She glanced my way and let a small grin
slip across her mouth before compressing her lips. She was
absolutely enjoying the hell out of this.

I knew she was good—really, really good. She
regularly beat the stuffing out of both Levi and I at the same
time, never really breaking a sweat, but I was still concerned.

“Alright, let’s get this train wreck over
with. Begin,” he said, backing away.

Caeco never hesitated. Before his lips formed
the
n
in
begin
, she was moving arrow straight at
Delwood, who was caught off guard.

It made sense, as the big lummox had probably
intimidated the hell out of anyone he had ever fought, leaving time
and initiative on his side. Caeco gave him neither. She blurred
straight at him, fist cocked to punch his face. His guard started
to come up, disbelief all over his face. At the last instant, she
crouched low and punched straight to his groin, then roundhouse
kicked the side of his right knee. He blocked the punch but lurched
from the kick, but to give him credit, he didn’t fall. It didn’t
matter as he was still off balance and when she stepped into him,
pulled down on his right arm, slipped her own right under his left
armpit, and swiveled one hip into his pelvis, the physics were all
on her side.

Up and over her hip, big feet to the sky,
landing on his neck and shoulder. Stunned, he still managed to
start to roll his legs over somersault fashion. She helped him
along with a snap kick to his exposed groin and when he finished
his roll, he leaned forward, clutching his bruised guy parts. She
took his back and started to lock in a rear naked choke, but again
he surprised me. He leaned forward fast, reaching up and pulling
her forward. She simply went with it, rolling over his head and
bounding up before he could react, turning and wrapping her right
arm under his neck, his head under her armpit and her bladed hand
pressed against his throat in a guillotine choke. This time he
stood, lifting her entire weight straight off the ground, removing
her leverage.

Like a gymnast on a pommel horse, she let go
with her arm and spun around his neck, wrapping her legs around his
throat and letting her body weight fall down his back, which along
with his own upward standing motion was enough to pull him over
backward. They both crashed to the ground, but whereas Delwood’s
head bounced off the concrete, Caeco executed a classic breakfall
and avoided most of the impact. She tightened her legs into a
triangle choke and this time, his struggles lasted only a few
moments before he slumped into unconsciousness.

“Break,” Jenks said.

Caeco unlocked her legs and back rolled to a
standing position. On the floor, Delwood lay unmoving for a few
moments, but then his eyes fluttered open and he started to flop a
bit as he tried to sit up.

“And that, class, is why Miss Jensen will be
my assistant,” Jenks said.

“Yeah but how good is she with witchcraft?”
Erika asked, her fingers twisting and her lips twitching out a
spell.

I reacted from a reflex my aunt had pounded
into me as a child. Everything slowed as my Sight perceived her
spell flaring across the room, headed directly for Caeco.

My own fingers flexed, just a bit, and her
spell was slapped from its path, instead slamming into Delwood,
whose eyes rolled back up in his head as his support arm slipped
out from under him. His head bounced off the concrete again.

“That’s strike one, Miss Boklund. The next
strike, you will be expelled from this school,” Jenks said, glaring
at her. “Nobody, but nobody, throws spells or power around this
room without my express permission—got it? And it’s a two strike
limit.”

Erika had a slightly horrified expression on
her face, which I felt was due mainly to her missing Caeco and not
so much that Delwood had taken the sleep spell center of mass. Her
sister looked at her disgustedly and the Native American witch, who
Ashley said was named Tami Keoni, looked thoughtfully from Caeco to
Delwood. A moment later, Tami turned her eyes, catching me watching
her before I could look away. She nodded once then looked back at
Delwood, who was being examined by Mr. Jenks. “Undo it—now,” was
all he said to Erika.

The rest of the day was anticlimactic. It
turned out that college courses were different and yet not so
different from high school. I had Programming and Calc, both before
lunch, and then the rest of the afternoon was free. Except for
homework, which both teachers had assigned in spades. It seems that
in college, you don’t have class everyday, but you do a butt load
more homework. Caeco had two bio classes in the morning and their
respective labs in the afternoon, so I didn’t see her till
dinner.

Our table was the same crew, with two
additions. A big, burly black kid who was some kind of were, named
Justin Williams, and his roommate, a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy
named T.J. Alverez. The two boys had approached the table, plates
and drinks in hand, and T. J. had asked if they could sit there,
watching Caeco for her reaction. No one objected and so they sat:
T.J. next to Mack, who was next to me, and Justin beside him, which
put him next to Ashley. We introduced ourselves and what we were,
supernatural wise.

T.J. seemed to be a talker and his roommate
stayed mostly quiet.

“Justin here is a werebear and I’m a
technetic,” T.J. said.

“What’s a technetic?” Ashley asked.

T.J. looked her way then looked again, as if
he just now realized how pretty she was.

“Ah, it’s what Oracle calls me, or people
like me, who have an unnatural aptitude for technology,” he
explained.

“That’s not a power,” Jetta stated. “So
you’re good with tools and stuff, big deal.”

“Well when you rewire your mom’s garage door
opener to open
any
garage door opener and you happen to be
all of four years old, then it might in fact be a bit different
than a rerun of
MacGyver,”
he said.

“How does a four year old wire anything?” I
asked.

“That’s just it. Nobody knows. But I did and
I still do. I can fix anything or improve any design. It just comes
to me. Oracle says it’s basically a form of psychic ability, to
understand electronics and stuff at an almost cellular level.”

“Actually, I can relate. I’m pretty good with
computers, myself,” I said.

“Building them? That’s what I do. Programming
is another story. Not my best skill.”

“Programming is the part I’m good at. You
build them and I’ll write the code,” I said. He nodded around a
mouthful of food.

“What about you, Justin? What’s your story?”
Ashley asked.

He froze, his fork full of potatoes au gratin
almost to his open mouth. Eyes glancing rapidly around the table,
he finally lowered his hand, closed his mouth, and shrugged.

“Not much ta tell ya all, not really,” he
said in a slow drawl. His Southern accent was much deeper than
Jetta or Mack’s, and his voice was really deep. He was still eyeing
his fork full of potatoes, obviously preferring eating to
talking.

“Ozarks?” Mack questioned.

“Ah ye-ah,” he said with a slow nod.

“My sister and I are from the Tennessee side
of the mountains,” Mack said.

“Oh. Too many of the wolfen up thata way,” he
said, finally shoving the potatoes into his mouth.

“A big pack in North Carolina, too,” Jetta
said, “Near Ashville.”

He nodded agreement, still chewing and after
swallowing, he spoke. “Ye-ah. But they left us alone and we left
them all alone. Them up north weren’t that way. Mean,” he said.

“They
were
mean. Now they’re gone,”
Jetta said, her voice taking on a cold tone.

He paused his fork again, staring straight at
the table for a second before slowly looking her way. “Heard
sum’thin about that,” he said. “
Hunters
.”

His voiced dropped to a whisper at the last
word, his fear of
hunters
seemingly greater than that of
werewolves.

“Do you live in a pack? Like the wolves?”
Ashley asked, clearly trying to change the topic.

He didn’t make direct eye contact but shook
his head. “Jest my family. My ma and pa and Leonard, my little
brother.”

“Grizzlies?” I asked.

He smiled for the first time, an ironic
little twist of his lips. “Black bears,” he said, eyes darting
around to see our responses.

“Makes sense. Locals would know the
difference. Even grizzly tracks are different. A family of were
black bears would blend right in,” Caeco commented, oblivious to
the irony or any awkward overtones.

“True, Awasos’s tracks are majorly different
from the bears we have here in Vermont,” I said.