Lethal полностью

“That’s a subset of the former motto,” he corrects, but there’s a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

Sighing, I drop my head. “Always watch your back?”

“That would be the one,” he says, no longer smiling. “Lev will be there to help you if you need him, but he’s not allowed on campus. You’re going to have to do that for yourself.”

“Didn’t you just make a case for how this is the safest spot on the planet for me right now?”

Ilia shakes his head. “You’ll be safer there, but you’re still among our kind. Don’t ever let your guard down. There are some people you can trust, your friend Mariya Morozova is there, and her affianced Konstantin Turgenev.” 

He hands me a silver necklace with a small charm.

“What’s this?” I ask, turning it over to find a button, a bit recessed on the other side.

“No outside forms of communication are allowed on campus, though…” he grins a little, “there’s always some enterprising student making money by selling illegal cell phones.”

Rolling my eyes, I laughed, “You, most likely.”

“Maybe,” he allows. “But this device won’t get picked up on their scanners. I want you to always keep it on you. If you’re in danger, hit the button. Kilronan Village is still about ten minutes away, so no matter what is happening, you must stall for time, all right?”

Studying him, I feel the ache in my chest grow. We look the most alike of the Aslanov siblings, with blonde hair and dark green eyes. But while he’s tall and confident, and walks with a swagger, I’m the one who stays in the background and watches everyone. It’s easy to see how he ruled that campus. 

“You will stand tall, Malen'kaya iskra, my little spark. You’re an Aslanov. Just like anywhere else in our world, any sign of weakness can be dangerous.” Ilia’s thumb brushes my wrist and I know he can feel my rabbiting pulse. “This is hard, I know it. Losing our parents…” his head drops for a moment until he regains his composure. “You can do hard things. You have before.” 

His thumb brushes over the thick scar on my back and I twist my body away. Lifting my chin, he forces me to look at him. “You will again.”

Lucca…

“Who the hell is that?”

I turn to look at whoever sparked Mateo’s idiotic wolf whistle. She can’t be a student; this campus is small enough that everyone knows everyone. She’s gorgeous. Lean, long legs, and blonde hair flowing down her back. Petite. She wouldn’t even come up to my shoulder. She glances over briefly at Mateo’s whistling, rolls her eyes, and continues into the main building.

“Oh, I am fucking that.” Mateo’s such an asshole, though he does well with the women on campus.

“Don’t you mean her?” I said.

“No, that,” he grins, “I just need her pussy. The rest of her is hot, though.”

“You’re a charmer,” I said dryly, walking away from him. I don’t want his asshole stink to rub off on me. I’m meeting with Professor Fukumoto, so I pass Dean Christie’s office as she’s entering it, shadowed by some big bastard who stares at me suspiciously.

“Tatiana Aslanova, a pleasure to meet you!” Dean Christie’s warm greeting is standard for new students. Until you get to know her and she scares the everloving fuck out of you. I don’t see her table saw in her office but I pick up the pace until I’m past her door anyway.

“Ah, Mr. Toscano, come in.” Professor Fukumoto is one of my favorite instructors, and he looks up with a smile as I knock on his open door. 

“Professor, how are you, sir?” Seating myself when he nods at the chair in front of his huge, cluttered desk, I rack my brain for anything wildly against the rules I might have done lately. He doesn’t seem angry, though.

“Quite well, thank you.” He settles back against his chair and examines me. I’m less bitter and sullen than I was when I arrived here two years ago. It didn’t take long to realize being the biggest asshole on campus required a lot more effort than I was willing to put in. I’m still bitter as fuck, though. Mainly at my brothers.

Fukumoto is my “academic advisor,” which is hilarious when you learn he was one of the senior men in a powerful Yakuza syndicate. No one’s certain why he would step down from that position to work here at the Academy. Or they know better than to talk about it.

“I called you in because we will be meeting with Dean Christie in a moment,” he says, watching me closely.

Raising one brow, I wonder if this is an interrogation technique designed to make me panic and spill information about some infraction. There have been plenty, and I’ll never confess to a single one. “Oh?”

His smooth skin breaks out into a thousand tiny wrinkles as he chuckles. “Yes. I wanted to speak with you first. How do you feel you’ve been performing in your major?”

Frowning, I try to figure out where this is going. “I’ve learned a great deal. I feel like I’ve honed my craft.”