I woke to sunlight painting gold patterns across my bedroom ceiling. For a moment, I just lay there, tracing the light with my eyes, feeling a strange, weightless sensation throughout my body. My lips still tingled with the memory of last night—the chocolate sweetness of Amelia's mouth, the surprising softness of her lips against mine, the way her body had fit perfectly against mine.
I brought my fingers to my lips, half expecting them to glow from the contact. The memory alone was enough to send a wave of warmth through my chest.
"Not bad for a half-demon," I murmured to the empty room, grinning like an idiot.
Freya watched me from the foot of the bed, her tail swishing with what looked suspiciously like judgment.
"What?" I asked her. "Am I not allowed to enjoy a moment of normal happiness in this circus?"
She blinked slowly, unimpressed and then hopped off the bed to go downstairs.
I showered and dressed quickly, unable to wipe the smile from my face. Even the standard issue Shinra House sweatpants and t-shirt felt comfortable, like I belonged here. Maybe I did. Maybe this whole insane situation—waking up as a sex demon, moving into a magical dorm, kissing the most dangerous woman I'd ever met—was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The hallway outside my room smelled like coffee and cinnamon, drawing me toward the living room. I practically floated down the stairs, replaying last night's kiss for the dozenth time. The way she'd looked at me afterward, vulnerable and surprised at her own actions. The taste of chocolate ice cream lingering between us.
I rounded the corner into the living room, still wearing what must have been the world's most self-satisfied smile.
Brittany sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over what looked like a pair of heavy combat boots. A cloth in one hand, a small brush in the other, she was scrubbing at dark stains that looked suspiciously unlike mud. Her heterochromatic eyes flicked up at me, then immediately narrowed.
"Ugh, dial it back," she snapped. "You look like you just lost a fight with a bucket of happy."
"Good morning to you too, sunshine," I replied, my smile dimming but not disappearing. "Is there coffee?"
Brittany jerked her head toward the kitchen. "Make your own." She returned her attention to the boots, scrubbing harder at a particularly stubborn stain. "And seriously, that face is making me nauseous."
I headed for the kitchen, calling over my shoulder, "Sorry my good mood offends your delicate sensibilities."
The coffee machine was high-tech enough to require an engineering degree, but I managed to coax it into producing something that smelled promising. Cup in hand, I returned to the living room and dropped onto the couch, disturbing Freya, who shot me another disapproving look before relocating to a nearby armchair.
"So," I said, blowing steam from my coffee, "where's Amelia this morning? Still sleeping?"
"The President's gone," she said, not even looking up from her work. "Flew out to New York an hour ago for the quarterly Shaman meeting. The one where all the vipers get in a room and pretend not to want to kill each other."
"She left? Without saying anything?"
Brittany gave a small, humorless laugh. "What, you thought she'd leave you a love note? Maybe some rose petals on your pillow?"
My good mood evaporated, leaving behind a hollow feeling in my chest. Last night suddenly seemed less like a beginning and more like... what? A distraction? A reward for good behavior? A test?
"How long will she be gone?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
"Three days minimum. Could be a week." Brittany finally looked up, seeing something in my expression that made her sigh. "Look, don't take it personally. That's just how she operates. The President has responsibilities beyond babysitting us."
"I'm not a baby," I muttered into my coffee.
"Could've fooled me with that pouty face."
"You're one to talk you—"
"Not entirely on your own."
We both turned toward the doorway. A tall, elegant woman stood there, tablet in hand. Her voluminous blonde hair cascaded down to her waist, framing a face that would have been perfectly at home on a magazine cover. Behind stylish rectangular glasses, her unusual magenta eyes surveyed the room.
Unlike Amelia's casual sensuality or Brittany's tough-girl aesthetic, this woman radiated professional competence. Her navy blazer and cream blouse screamed "respectable adult," making me suddenly aware that I was lounging around in sweatpants with bedhead.
"Professor Kayama," Brittany acknowledged, her tone shifting from aggressive to respectful. "I was just explaining the situation to our newest resident."
The woman smiled, the expression warming her formal demeanor. "Thank you, Brittany." She turned those striking eyes to me. "You must be Isaiah. I'm Professor Kobeni Kayama, faculty supervisor for ORES and administrative head of Lady Amelia's affairs during her absences." Her smile widened slightly. "But you can call me Kobeni."
I stood up, suddenly feeling I should be more presentable. "Nice to meet you. I didn't realize there were other... um... people involved with all this."
Kobeni's laugh was light and musical. "Oh my, there are quite a few of us. ORES is small but growing." She glanced down at her tablet, tapping something on the screen. "And speaking of growth opportunities, I'm here to discuss your first official assignment."
Brittany's head snapped up. "Assignment? For him? Already?"
"For both of you. Lady Amelia left very specific instructions before her departure." Kobeni pushed her glasses up with one finger. "The timing is actually fortuitous. A situation has developed that suits Isaiah's unique abilities."
"Wait, wait, wait," I interrupted, holding up my hands. "Amelia left me an assignment? After last night?"
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Brittany's eyes widened, and Kobeni's expression shifted to one of polite interest.
"After last night?" Kobeni repeated, one elegant eyebrow arching.
"We went shopping," I explained quickly. "And saw a movie. Normal stuff."
Kobeni cleared her throat. "Whatever extracurricular activities occurred between you and Lady Amelia are not my concern." Her tone suggested otherwise, but she continued professionally. "What matters is that she believes you're ready for field work, and we have a situation that requires attention."
She moved to the coffee table and set down her tablet, swiping to reveal what looked like a large apartment building.
"There have been multiple reports of unusual phantom activity in the abandoned St. Ophelia orphanage," she explained. "Normally, low-level hauntings are handled by regular patrols, but this one has persisted despite three standard exorcisms."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means something's feeding the phantom," Brittany answered, setting her boots aside and joining us at the table. "Regular exorcisms disperse the demonic energy, but if it keeps reforming..."
"Precisely," Kobeni nodded. "We suspect there's a focal point—an object imbued with significant negative energy that's continuously regenerating the phantom."
I frowned. "And you want me to find this object?"
"Better," Kobeni said. "We want you to drain it. Lady Amelia believes your ability could completely neutralize the energy source, preventing further manifestations."
The memory of my first exorcism flashed through my mind—the strange, disorienting sensation of drawing another being's energy into myself. The power had tasted bitter and rotten, like spoiled fruit.
"So I'm basically spiritual pest control," I muttered.
Brittany laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Welcome to the glamorous life of a shaman, pretty boy. It's mostly cleanup work."
Kobeni's expression softened. "This assignment was specifically chosen as a safe learning opportunity. The phantom is low-level, the location is secure, and—" she glanced at Brittany, "—you'll have experienced backup."
I looked between them. "Wait, you're coming with me?"
Brittany rolled her eyes. "Don't get excited."
"The assignment is scheduled for tonight at 11 PM," Kobeni continued, all business. "I'll arrive at 9 PM to pick you both up."
She handed me a slim folder that had materialized from somewhere in her blazer. "These are the details of the previous exorcism attempts and witness accounts. Please review them before tonight."
I took the folder, feeling its weight. This wasn't playing dress-up or going shopping. This was real shaman work. In Amelia's absence, I was expected to step up and function as part of whatever this organization was.
"I understand you may feel... unprepared," Kobeni added, her voice gentler. "But Lady Amelia wouldn't have assigned this if she didn't believe you were capable."
"Right," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Drain the phantom, find the source, drain that too. Simple enough."
Brittany stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm hitting the gym. Meet me at the front door at 8:30 tonight. Wear something you don't mind getting ruined."
She disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone with Kobeni, who was studying me with those unusual eyes.
"You're disappointed she left without saying goodbye," she observed.
I shrugged. "I barely know her. It's fine."
Kobeni's smile was knowing. "I've worked with Lady Amelia for years. She's not... conventional in how she handles relationships of any kind." She tapped her tablet, bringing up what looked like a calendar. "Her position demands certain sacrifices."
"So I'm learning," I replied, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.
Kobeni tilted her head, considering me. "You know, in the five years I've known her, I've never seen Lady Amelia personally escort a new recruit shopping."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're special, Isaiah Angelo." She gathered her tablet and stood. "Don't let her departure distract you from that fact."
With that cryptic statement, she headed for the door, pausing briefly. "Oh, and your class schedule has been adjusted. You now have an independent study period from 2-4 PM daily, which will actually be your training time. We'll begin tomorrow in the basement facilities."
As Kobeni's footsteps faded down the hallway, I sank back onto the couch, the folder heavy in my hands. Freya hopped down from the armchair and, surprisingly, settled onto my lap, kneading my thigh with her paws.
"So much for my taste of victory, huh?" I murmured, scratching behind her ears.