CHAPTER 8
JET
Of all the forms our abilities take, from Fire to Mental to Shadow, each has had its share of misunderstandings and each has had its notorious disasters …
Dr. Lyle Lee (formerly known as Firebolt), from Within: Theories of Extrahuman Power
She’s just a dirty Shadow,” the girl laughed, pointing at her. “No mistaking that wristlet.”
Jet swallowed, darted a nervous glance at the inky band around her left wrist. The color branded her as if it were a mark on her skin. Black meant she worked with the shadows, bent them to her will. And everyone knew what that ultimately meant: She would go insane. Eventually. She could still hear her father screeching her name before they took him away.
A hand on Jet’s shoulder, then Iridium’s loud voice: “You’re so concerned about dirt, Dawnie, go take a bath.”
The tall redhead blinked at Iridium, then scowled as her friends laughed behind their hands. There were a lot of girls clustered around them; sweet Jehovah, it seemed like the entire Academy was in line for the cafeteria. Jet’s mind whirled as she assessed the laughing girls crowded in front of her. About ten of them, already cliquing. They’d worked fast on this first day of the Academy—and Dawnlighter had already grasped the reins.
Jet glanced around, tried to find an adult for help. Where was the Superintendent? Or the proctors? Or any of the instructors? Weren’t they supposed to have the students eat in shifts, to avoid having so many kids with powers in one place at one time? This had to be against the rules, or an oversight …
The girl cast a long look at Iridium, who was standing next to Jet as if the two of them had been paired. Ridiculous, Jet thought; pairings didn’t happen until Third Year. Besides, why would any Lighter want to be partnered with a Shadow? Jet’s lips quirked as she thought of how funny that would be—so very black and white. Dark and light. Yin and yang.
After sizing them up, the red-haired girl sniffed, “That’s Dawnlighter.”
“And there’s a handle to be proud of,” Iridium said. Jet didn’t see her face, but based on the sound of her voice, Iridium was rolling her eyes. “So original, they should have called you Original Girl.”
Around them, a gossip of teens said “Oooh.” Jet fought an insane urge to giggle.
Dawnlighter smiled—it was a cold movement of her lips, and it would have looked at home on the face of Maleficent or Vixen or any of the other Code Red villainesses. “I’d tell you what they call mutts like you, with a rabid dad and no mom, but heroes don’t swear.”
Iridium’s hand bit into Jet’s shoulder. “Hey, bitch, I dare you to come here and say that to my face.”
Dawnlighter smirked. “What, you didn’t hear me the first time? Maybe you should be Deaf Girl.”
Iridium took a step forward, but Jet pulled her new roommate back. “Stop that,” she hissed. “You’ll get written up!”
“Who cares about that? I’m not going to let her talk trash about me or my dad.”
“What are you going to do,” Dawnlighter said, “hit me? They’ll put you down like the dog you are.”
“Rabid,” another girl said.
“Just like the dad,” said a third.
Iridium shrugged off Jet’s hand and took a step forward. “If they’re going to put me down, it’ll be worth it if I rearrange your face first.”
Dawnlighter blanched, then darted her gaze as if seeking the nearest exit. “If you touch me, you’ll be sorry.”
“I’m already sorry we’re breathing the same air.”
Another “Oooh” from the posse—and Jet noticed at least two other girls muffling giggles.
“Just like a mutt,” Dawnlighter sniffed, obviously trying to act nonchalant and failing rather spectacularly; Jet noticed the sweat beading on the other girl’s brow, the slight tremor to her pouty lips before she clenched her jaw. “Growling big, acting like she’ll bite. Some hero you’ll be, Mutt.”
Iridium cocked her fist back.
Jet flinched, expecting the fight and the repercussions … and that was when the plastiflor bulbs overhead exploded.
The girls squealed as shattered plastic splattered them, and their cries were echoed by others in line as every bulb in the hallway outside the cafeteria shattered one by one.
In the darkness, Jet covered her mouth with both hands to keep from screaming. We’re in the hall, she thought desperately, we’re in the hall and we’re safe and there are no voices here no voices it’s safe it’s safe—
A globe of white light cut through the blackness. Jet almost trembled in relief as she stepped closer to the ball of light emanating from Iridium’s hand.
“Freaking brilliant,” one of the other girls said with a snort. “Now the proctors’ll be on all our asses.”
Another girl hissed, “Way to go, Mutt.”
“It wasn’t me,” Iridium said, startled. “I was going to punch out Dawnie’s teeth. Had to be another Lighter.”
All the girls glared at Dawnlighter, who squawked, “It wasn’t me—she’s lying!”
Iridium rolled her eyes. “As if I’d bother lying about someone as lame as you.”
“Why, you little—”
“What is going on here?”
The proctor’s voice cut through the volley of threats, and all the girls hushed. The darkness seemed to creep forward until it became man-shaped, but maybe that was just the backup track lighting kicking in along the edges of the hallway, banishing the shadows.
One student whispered a prayer, the sound startlingly loud.
Jet’s eyes widened as she gazed upon Night—other than her, the only Shadow power at the Academy—who was lancing each of the students with his dark gaze. A black cowl obscured his face; the matching cape draped from his shoulders like a king’s mantle. The little she could see of the skinsuit beneath was even darker, shadows swallowed by a black hole. Around him, the very air seemed to still, as if it, too, was in awe of this one man who could repel light with a thought.
Part of Jet wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg for mercy. And part of her wanted to kiss those feet and worship him.
Hero worship, she thought wildly. She bit her lip to keep from giggling.
When he glanced her way, Jet gleeped, and stared down at her boots.
“Someone answer me.” Night’s voice was very low, and very cold.
No one said a thing. Maybe they were afraid of risking the ire of a proctor on First Night, or maybe they were uneasy about angering a full-grown Shadow.
Because everyone knew what happened when a Shadow power got angry.
Once again, Jet thought of her father, screaming her name as they’d come to take him away before he could hurt anyone else.
Well, Jet was a Shadow power too.
She cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Night’s eyes, but she did manage to look at where she assumed his chin was. “Well, sir”—but Jehovah, her voice was a barely controlled scream—“we were waiting in line to enter the cafeteria. When Dawnlighter started to harass me, Iridium stood up to her. They exchanged words, and Dawnlighter got very angry. Then the lights exploded.”
Modified truth; every heroine’s secret weapon. And she hadn’t even learned that in class.
The look of pure hatred Dawnlighter shot her should have flayed all the skin from her bones.
Jet smiled at her. She tried to make it sweet, but it felt sickly. “What? Heroes tell the truth. Don’t they?”
She felt Night’s gaze heavy upon her. Summoning all of her courage, she looked into his eyes—for exactly a half second before she quickly stared back at her boots.
Night said, “Is this true, Dawnlighter?”
A long pause, filled with the sound of someone swallowing. Finally, the girl replied, “Sir, it’s true that Iridium started mouthing off to me.” She must have remembered that her posse was there, because her next words came faster, louder. “Iridium started the whole thing. Jet’s just saying it’s my fault because she and Iridium are roommates.”
“I see.” Night turned to face Iridium. “And you, Iridium? What do you have to say?”
Jet risked a glance at her roommate, who smiled—sweetly, Jet noticed; she had to learn how to pull that off. Looking right at Night, she said, “Sir, when Dawnlighter referred to Jet as a ‘dirty Shadow,’ I had to let her know that sort of language is inappropriate for heroes.”
Night’s eyes narrowed, and he whirled on Dawnlighter. “You will come with me. You, too, Iridium. We’re going to find the Soothsayer to determine the truth of your words.” He paused, and the air vibrated with menace. “I sincerely hope for your sake, Dawnlighter, that Iridium was lying.”
Jet watched all the color drain from Dawnlighter’s face. The girl whispered, “Yes, sir.”
The two girls followed Night—but Iridium glanced back over her shoulder and winked at Jet.
Jet’s lips twitched into a startled smile, one that she quickly forced down. So what that Iridium had stood by her side, or that she had gotten in trouble because of Jet? The girl probably would have done the same for anyone who’d gotten picked on. That was what heroes did: They defended the weak.
But if Jet dared hope that the two of them would ever go from roommates to friends, she was kidding herself.