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It was only at 3 a.m., when the storm hit hard, that I was able to sleep at all. But then I passed out like a corpse. A blessing, since nothing else but a swift blow to the temple could usually calm my sexagintuple-espresso-levels of adrenaline.
My alarm went off at 8 a.m., and I rose like the zombie I’d become. The fogged windows meant the day was for combat boots, fuzzy sweaters, and an obscenely large coffee with three shots of espresso. At minimum.
During the entire walk to the cafe kiosk, and all the time waiting in line, I coaxed my intuition magic up from her cave. Not successfully. The crabby bitch was set on sleeping in. After the barista slid my steaming cup over, it only took one sip to scald my tongue and spray the liquid lava on the ground.
She glared.
I glared back.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, clearly unwilling to accept any other answer than, No, ma’am, everything is as peachy as my pretty ass.
Maybe I could have said that. In a better mood, or as a better person, sure. But this was not the mood, and I was not that girl. So, I rattled, “Yes, there’s a fucking problem. You need to clean your drip machine. This shit tastes old and burnt. I bet you’ve got old crusty scales falling into the brew every time.” I held a hand over my chest. “I can handle mouth blisters for a good cup of coffee. Hell, give me something delicious straight out of the oven, and I’ll disappear it in three seconds flat. But this flavor? Atrocious. Oh, and I can see why you managed to raise the temperature to inferno levels.”
Smoke cascaded from her fingertips. The true culprit of my volcano coffee, I was sure. She gritted out, “Lady, I don’t get paid enough to care enough. Choke on it.” With a final slam, she shut the glass panel in my face.
“You asked,” I muttered. I popped the lid off, and coffee sloshed onto the wet ground. A student wrinkled his nose at me, but I didn’t back down. “How else am I supposed to cool off liquid straight from the center of the Earth?”
I walked to the administration office with a scowl. I rode the elevator with a scowl. I agonized over my uncooperative intuition magic, also with—you guessed it—a scowl. Why couldn’t Azra make the coffee here? Even more, why didn’t she let me borrow stuff from the cafe so I could make my own instead of putting myself in literal peril with this brackish water?
Too tired to look up, and too focused on not spilling my boiling drink, I didn’t have time to process that someone was in my tiny office.
“Good morning!” came an ungodly shout.
My body jerked. The coffee sloshed over the lip and onto my hand. “Fuck me,” I screeched, dropping the cup and clutching my seared knuckles. It avalanched onto the floor and sprayed across the wall. And my shoes.
“You look terrible,” Razai informed me cheerily.
“You will pay for this,” I wheezed.
The silver-haired menace crossed his muddy boots on my desk, unfazed. “You’re very edgy when you’re tired.”
“Where have you been?” I demanded, breathing through the throb. “You just dropped off files and disappeared.”
His eyes went wide with innocence. “But you were doing so good on your own. And honestly, I’m enjoying learning about this new, risky you, Detective. I have to admit, I was surprised you cared enough about that pink-haired student to help her, but then you insulted a legacy student and Clave.” He sighed as if in ecstasy. “It was gorgeous. Stunning. Ten out of ten.”
I shut the office door and opened the window to stick my hand out. “You saw all that? Why didn’t you help? I could have used it.”
He sank deeper into his slouch. “You’re capable. Honestly though, the look on Cole Highland’s face when you scolded him!” He wiped an imaginary tear of joy. “Perfection. Pure perfection.”
And here I thought I was better at spotting this idiot. But apparently, he was still way too good at keeping out of sight.
Razai added, “Oh, and how was your midnight scouting mission? Catch any leads?”
If I had laser beams in my eyes, they would have seared right through the archangel’s face. There was no other choice. I had to obliterate him.
A campus magazine sat on the shelf next to me. I palmed it and slapped the issue across Razai’s shoulder with righteous fury.
He watched it happen from start to finish, completely unfazed by the magazine attack. “Was there a bug on me or something?”
“Stop stalking me,” I growled, unable to yell without coworkers hearing.
“How else am I supposed to keep tabs?” he defended. “I have a job too, you know.”
“Then tell me when you’re there,” I shot back. “It’s so creepy thinking about you following me around everywhere. And how did you even know I left last night?”
He slid his boots off and planted them on the floor, looking at me like he’d never heard anything so brilliant. “All I have to do is let you know?”
“Well… fucking… duh,” I spluttered.
