“She’s a full Elemental, too,” Wade added. “And a Telekinetic.”
The whole team gawked at me, as if I were the single most extraordinary thing they’d ever seen. It was awkward and flattering at the same time, and my cheeks burned with delight. I’d never felt so revered in my entire life.
“Wow,” Astrid breathed, her lips stretching into a bright smile. “You’re freaking incredible, then! I think you could easily compete with Wade here. Scratch that, you’re a full Elemental. I’ll bet with a bit of practice and education, you’ll be running circles around him and Garrett!”
“Dial down the enthusiasm,” Wade replied with a smirk. “She just got a Reading from Adley and was classified as a Mediocre.”
Their faces went blank, and I felt my heart sinking. The mediocrity reminder was efficient in its crushing of my wings—I’d just started soaring and soaking up all the admiration from our Rag Team, and Wade just stomped in and left me tattered. The jerk. Clearly, he was extremely competitive, and that just made me want to beat the odds and actually end up running circles around him, just so I could wipe that smirk off his face.
“I don’t buy it,” Santana said, shaking her head.
“What? That she’s a Mediocre? Adley is never wrong, Santana,” Wade said, crossing his arms.
“Nope. Not buying it. Something’s off. Harley, you should get tested again in a few months,” Santana replied. “There is no way that you’re a full Elemental and an Empath, on a Mediocre level. That title stays with you your whole life, and it seriously limits your magical prospects. I can’t believe it, sorry.”
I shrugged hopefully. “Adley did say I should get tested again.”
“You should!” Astrid nodded. “I’ve been with this coven since I was ten, and trust me, someone like you is once in a generation, at most. You being a Mediocre is like saying that Hiroshima was just a firecracker. I’m with Santana on this one. Not buying the verdict.”
“I’m not surprised.” Garrett’s voice slithered in, prompting us all to look up. “You’re all usually in denial, anyway. But once a Mediocre, always a Mediocre. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Wade’s right. Miss Smith here is… bland. At best.”
Garrett was smirking at me, hands in his pockets, his beige waistcoat unbuttoned and his navy-blue shirt sleeves rolled up. Standing next to him was Finch, along with the other magicals on his investigative team, and they made my stomach churn. I could feel the disdain toward me, and it brought back the nastier prep school memories—specifically the ones that got me sent to the principal’s office one too many times. It wasn’t a good idea to provoke me. I always retaliated.
“I take it you’re the token handsome jackass in this place?” I retorted, putting on an Arctic smile.
“You think I’m handsome?” Garrett replied.
“Don’t you have something better to do, Kyteler?” Wade stood, his irritation burning through my nerve endings.
“Garrett and Wade have been sort of competing with one another since they first got here,” Astrid whispered to me. “They’re both ridiculously good but end up acting like raucous teenagers whenever they’re in the same room.”
That little morsel of information suddenly put things in perspective, where these two alpha males were concerned. Garrett was the harsh realist with a bad mouth and great magical skills, who seemed to love and hate the San Diego Coven, at the same time. Wade was the by-the-book kind of warlock, equally respected as far as his magical skills were concerned, but he still carried that stiff arrogance around like a badge of honor. Both of them were hot, and yet in need of a good slapping.
“We’ve got our action plan ready.” Garrett shrugged. “I see you’re still struggling with an employment form.”
“Alton placed you in charge of the investigative team so you could put your time and resources to better use,” Wade said. “And yet, here you are, proving exactly why you shouldn’t be put in charge of anything other than drinks at the cafeteria.”
“My team and I were just stopping by for some drinks, Crowley,” Garrett replied. “I figured it would be nice to say hello and remind you of the inevitable outcome of whatever you try to do. By the end of the year, I’ll be the top scorer in this place. Not you.”
“I like how you say things out loud, sometimes, Kyteler. It’s almost as if you’re hoping that’ll make them true,” Wade shot back. “Why don’t you focus on the investigative team, for now, and not squander this amazing opportunity you’ve been given? Though, we both know you don’t deserve it.”
“Jealousy is not a good color on you, Crowley,” Garret sneered, while Finch’s steely blue gaze attempted to drill holes into my very soul. Seriously, what in the world did I do to him?
“If you think that’s what this is about, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Santana chimed in, leaning on her elbows on the table.
“Why don’t you mind your own business, chica? Don’t you have a genie to babysit?” Finch shot back, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Are you so insecure that you feel the need to degrade those who don’t put up with your crap, Finch? You should know better than to actively try and piss off magicals who are more powerful than you,” Santana replied through gritted teeth as she shot to her feet.
Raffe gently caught her arm in an attempt to hold her back, and I could feel her softening up a little. She seemed to respond to his touch, her anger subsiding, while Raffe’s dark, gray-blue gaze settled on Finch.
“I could take you on anytime, anywhere,” Finch said, grinning. “You’re delusional to think otherwise.”
“Oh, yeah? How about we try that right now? You clearly haven’t learned your lesson since last week,” Santana said, once again riled up.
“Don’t fall for these cheap tricks.” Raffe intervened, standing up next to her. “You already have two warnings. They’re just trying to get you to lash out.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Santana smirked, watching Finch’s expression turn from bright to sour. “Since it’s forbidden to strike a coven member unless it’s in self-defense, you boys are such cowards that you need us to hit first, so you can have an excuse to behave like the monsters we keep in the Bestiary.”
“I don’t need an excuse to make you choke on humble pie,” Finch retorted.
“Now, now.” Garrett stepped in, visibly amused. “No need to get all aggressive here. If you Rag kids can’t take the truth, you should stick to more human jobs. Surely there are still openings in the center. I heard they were looking for tour guides.”
He seemed to enjoy pushing people’s buttons, avoiding direct aggression just so he could claim moral superiority. Garrett had the makings of an accomplished sociopath.
“Frankly, I’m perpetually fascinated by your species,” I mused, looking up at him.
“I’m not surprised,” Garrett replied. “You’re a late bloomer. Magicals are obviously a thing of wonder for you.”
“No, I didn’t mean magicals when I used the term ‘species.’ I meant mouth-breathers,” I said. “You’re all so insecure and frustrated by your own shortcomings that you need to distract yourselves by picking on others. Anything to get your minds off your own inadequacies. It’s kind of sad to watch.”
The amount of hatred pouring out of the investigative team—except for the two stooges I couldn’t read, of course—was almost suffocating. I’d hit a nerve. Finch opened his mouth to say something, but Garrett squeezed his shoulder and stopped him.
“If I were you, I’d be more worried about your inadequacies,” Garrett replied. “The magical world isn’t all glitter and unicorns, Harley. You either get tough or you get trampled. It’s what the rest of your Rag Team doesn’t get, and, apparently, neither do you. We’re not here to spare your feelings. You kids need to toughen up.”
“I don’t need my feelings spared,” I replied. “I just don’t want a bunch of tools poking me because they don’t have better things to do with their time.”
“Someone should teach you to respect your elders,” Finch burst out, and took a few steps toward me.
“You want to teach me about respect? Are you hearing yourself, mouth-breather?”
I didn’t cave in. Years of bullying had already taught me not to put up with this kind of nonsense, even if I had to get physical. All it took was one hit to teach any bully not to try that again—not with me. Finch was clearly asking for it, and judging by the smirk on his face, he didn’t think I had it in me.
Before either Garrett or Wade could step in, Finch moved in closer, his hand reaching for my throat. He probably wanted to intimidate me, given that our glaring contest didn’t seem to have an end in sight. My instincts kicked in, and I got him first with a Telekinetic thrust. The mental lasso gripped his throat, and I waved him away like a pesky fly. The hand gesture coincided with Finch being thrown across the hall like a rag doll.
He landed on top of another table. The legs gave out, and Finch ended up on the floor with another thud and a painful groan, as he held his side with both hands. I’d probably cracked a rib.
Gasps erupted from nearby magicals, while Wade and Garrett kept the rest of our teams away from each other.
“That’s enough!” Wade growled. “Garrett, don’t push this any further. You’ll get us all in unnecessary trouble!”
“Get your girl under control, then!” Garrett hissed, then gave me an appreciative sideways glance, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Though, I have to admit, she’s got spunk!”
“I’m confused,” I murmured, before Wade grabbed my arm and pulled me back a couple of feet.
Poe Dexter rushed over to Finch and helped him up, followed by Lincoln Mont-Noir. Both held back Finch, who’d come to his senses and was eager to retaliate. Poe even snatched Finch’s custom-made copper-colored lighter, which had started to glow white between his fingers—that was Finch Anker’s Esprit, I realized. One could take the Esprit away from a magical, if they wanted to prevent them from inflicting too much damage. Good to know.