“Yes, let’s go,” Locke says and stands up stretching.
I glance once more at my phone, wondering if it’s easier to just stay away from Kenzie. Only, the thought of her being alone to deal with twelve powers doesn’t sit well with me. I will find her later and patch things up. She needs her student guide, anyway, and I have a promise to keep.
Chapter 5
Kenzie
“Shit, I should have let East show us where to go,” I say, casting my eyes around the corridor, not a clue where we are meant to be.
“Oh, I have that academy app they told us to download. There must be a map,” Kelly replies, stopping in the corridor to pull her phone from her coat pocket. Shit, I don’t even know where I put mine last night. I didn’t even know there was an app to begin with.
I lean over her shoulder and watch her switch on the Academy app and find the map they have on there. One of the best things about this academy is the Technomancy students. My brother always said the Wi-Fi is perfect here, and that the whole place is wired up.
“Ah, it’s down here,” she says as the app finds where we are, and an icon hovers above the classroom I need and the library next-door to it. People push past us, in a rush to get to classes like we are, and I know we are going to be late when I hear a second bell ring. We searched the entire second floor before realising that it’s the third floor we needed. This place is a maze.
“See you later,” I mumble as we get to my room and Kelly waves at me.
“Good luck,” she replies cheerily, and I take a deep breath before opening the door to my classroom. I walk in, and the room goes silent, all of the students are here by the looks of it, and the teacher gives me a look of disgust.
“Miss Crowe, I assume?” she asks and crosses her arms. Holy smokes, this teacher is intimidating. She has long, shiny, red hair, bright-green eyes, and the body of a supermodel. I want to say it looks fake, but it’s likely the bitch was just born that way.
“Yes, sorry I’m late. I got lost,” I answer.
She tuts as she looks me over. “Having twelve marks does not mean you will be treated specially in this academy. I do not care for your excuses, now take a seat, Miss Crowe,” she says. Snickers of laughter and whispering follow her words from the other students. I hold in the urge to call her a bitch.
“Sorry again,” I say, not bothering to hold in my sarcastic tone. I don’t wait for a reply and walk down the middle aisle of the row of desks. I find an empty desk two rows in and take a seat.
“Welcome, new students, to your first fire class. I’m Miss Tinder,” she says, introducing herself. Most guys would be happy if they swiped left on the Tinder app and found her. “In this class, we will study fire and how to control it. Fire can be many things, but it is known for being uncontrollable,” she explains, and I watch as she holds her hands out flat in front of her, and two balls of orange flames appear. “Except that is the very job of the fire marked. We must control it, otherwise fire can destroy,” she adds, closing her hands slowly. I watch as the balls of fire get smaller as she does, and then, they disappear altogether. I’ve seen one of my dads do the same thing. He is strong with his fire, despite having only four marks.
“We first must find out how strong you are with your fire. Some may not be very good, and others will find fire to be their strongest power,” she explains. “So, class, I want all of you to step outside and one by one, we will test your powers. Once I have an idea of your personal strength, I can assign you partners that are near your level,” she says, and everyone stands up. I move outside with the rest, and Miss Tinder comes outside with us. She calls the first person in, a guy standing close to the door.
I watch five students go in and out, before she comes out and says my name. I follow her back into the classroom and move to stand in front of her.
“Call your fire,” she says, not giving any other explanation. I think back to how my one dad said he called his marks. He said you just imagine the mark in your mind. I hold both my hands out and imagine the fire mark the best I can. The mark looks like a flame, with black wavy lines in the middle.
I open my eyes to see a large ball of blue fire in my hands, the ball is getting bigger and bigger. I do the first thing I can think of and drop it. I expected it to disappear, but it doesn’t. Fucking hell, it only gets bigger as I jump back.
“Stop,” Miss Tinder says, but it’s too late. The fire ball rolls around the room, getting bigger, and I try to call it back to no avail. I know, maybe I can use air to put it out.
I call my air mark the same way as I did the fire, picturing the mark in my head and calling on it. The next thing I’m aware of, is the feeling of myself flying across the room and slamming into the wall. I hear Miss Tinder shouting, and as I look up, the whole room is on fire.
What was once the ball of fire seemsto have split into five towers of flames, they swirl like tornados and are setting everything on fire as they move. One of the fire tornados swirls its way towards me, and I hold my hands up, begging my air mark to stop this. The tornado just spreads in a long wall of fire, which still keeps moving closer to me. I cough on the smoke, looking around for any way out, but I can’t see one. There are no windows in here, and the door is on the other side of the room.
I cough some more, and wipe my eyes as they start watering from the smoke. Water. I can use water. I go to call on my mark, when a guy walks through the flames. Just fucking walks through them. He’s tall, with short, black hair, and a serious expression as he looks down at me. The guy looks about my age, and he is gorgeous. With his built body and dark, almost-black eyes, he’s captivating. He spreads his arms wide and water shoots out of his hands in streams. The streams shoot around the room like a wave, putting out all the fire. The guy claps his hands, the water stops and just falls to the floor. That was impressive.
“Good job, Crowe,” the man says with a disgusted look, as he wipes the ash from his leather jacket. I watch as he walks out of the classroom, leaving the door open. Why did he have to open that sexy mouth of his and ruin the pretty image?
I pull myself to my feet, just in time to see Miss Tinder come back into the classroom. Her hair is burnt off on one side, and if looks could kill, I would surely be dead right now. The rage has turned her pretty face ugly more than missing some hair ever could.
“Get to the headteachers office, now!” she shrieks. Oh shit. I go to leave the room, when I realise I have no damn idea where to go. I turn back to face her and flinch at the expression on her face.
“Err . . . where is that exactly?” I mumble.
“Are you completely incompetent? Use your phone app like every other new student does!”
“But I—”