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and freckles for days. Her green eyes bordered on shiny emerald, and if it weren’t for the scar that split her left eyebrow in two, she’d be flawless as well.

The men were much more rugged. The blue-eyed guy beside me had disheveled blonde hair and a standard black T-shirt that was torn at the collar. The other dude was sporting a full beard and man bun, but he looked way too tough to be a hipster. His muscles bulged and the fork he held in his hand looked like a dollhouse prop.

“Is this Wilder’s new pet?” the blond guy next to me asked with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re searching for my second head, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” I drawled. “I left it at home.”

Romy and the other Naturals burst out laughing, and the man scowled.

“That’s Valeria, Martin, and Aloysius,” Romy said.

“Aloysius?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the beefcake opposite. The name didn’t fit at all, and I wondered why his parents had been so cruel.

“Don’t get me started. Call me Alo, please.” He winked and shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth, a shred of carrot getting stuck in his beard.

“We all trained together,” Romy said to me. “Alo is a year older than us, though.”

“What’s the deal with that?” I asked, rubbing the condensation off my glass with a finger. “Training?”

“We’re selected when we’re children,” Valeria replied, her Irish accent thick and juicy. “Then we train in the art of killing demons. Using our Light, weapons, theory, that kind of thing.”

“We’re elite warriors,” Martin said with an air of arrogance. “Just because someone has Light doesn’t automatically make them cut out to be a Natural.”

Romy nudged me under the table and made a face, signalling Martin often liked to get up on his high horse and have a gallop.

“So, you were unlucky enough to have an encounter with Wilder,” Alo said. “And you survived?” He whistled as he speared a cherry tomato with his fork.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, watching as the juice from the tomato splattered across his plate.

“People say a lot of things about him,” Valeria declared, “most of them bad.”

“Yeah, they say his mother was raped by a demon.”

“Martin!” Romy exclaimed.

“Well, they do.” He shrugged, not masking his obvious dislike for Wilder.

“Wilder’s a bit of a mystery,” Valeria said to me. “No one knows for sure, but we know he’s on constant probation.”

From the sound of it, his tentative standing was due to much more than just his dislike of authority that he’d made constantly clear from the way he’d spoken to Greer that morning.

“Speak of the devil,” Alo declared.

“That’s an awful idiom,” Valeria said. “I wish you wouldn’t use it.”

“Scarlett.”

I glanced up at the sound of Wilder’s voice, wondering what I’d done to deserve so much of his attention today.

He glared down at me, ignoring the other Naturals. “It’s time.”

“Already?”

He nodded.

I pushed my chair back and rose to my feet, my stomach churning like I was about to go to the executioner’s block and that bland salad was my last meal, served to me by a mother who thought she knew best, but not really.

“Thanks for the… uh, food,” I said to Romy, who smiled in return.

“Don’t mention it.”

Their eyes were glued to our backs as Wilder led me from the dining room and out into the hall. I didn’t know how he put up with the snickering, the snide comments, the distrust. The longer I was here, the more I wanted to know what was up with him.

“Wilder?”

He grunted.

“Don’t grunt at me,” I grumbled as we passed a display of what looked like an older style of arondight blades. They were only ornate sword hilts, but knowing how Wilder’s worked, I assumed the pointy bit was deactivated.

We turned into an alcove and descended a flight of stairs. Overhead, an ornate chandelier hung, the crystal reflected shards of light from the open skylight. Unlike the one in my room, plain glass was open to the grey sky beyond.

“Did you want to ask me something, Purples?” Wilder asked with a smirk.

“I want to ask you a lot of things, but you’re not exactly in an approachable mood.”

“I’d spit it out if I were you. We don’t have much time.” Well, that didn’t sound ominous at all.

“Is it… Is it going to hurt?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No. It’s not an autopsy, Purples.”

“May as well be,” I drawled as we turned into a darkened hallway in the bowels of the Sanctum.

“It’s more emotional than psychically painful,” he said after a moment.

“You’ve had this test before?”

“Everyone who trains to be a Natural has to be tested.”

We stopped outside an ominous-looking door, but he didn’t reach for the handle. Instead, he turned towards me. “Tell them about your meds.”

“Why? I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.” I’d debated it, but after talking with those other Naturals, I decided to keep as much to myself as possible. I didn’t want to get rostered on the rumour mill if I could avoid it. Who knew how long I’d be stuck here. I suppose it all depends on what they find in their fancy tests.

“It could be blocking your abilities.”

“If I have any at all,” I muttered, “which I doubt.”

“You have something,” Wilder declared.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t taken any in days. I’m wide open.”

“And you don’t feel any different?”

“Hmm, let me see.” I gestured around me. “Two days ago, I was just a socially awkward mental case, and today, I’m standing in an invisible building full of demon hunters, but thanks for asking.”

“You’re welcome.” He smirked, and the urge to slap him rose again.

“Wilder…” He turned and raised an eyebrow. “Those other Naturals…”

“I know what they say about me,” he stated. “And I don’t give two flying fu—”

“Wilder,” Greer said, stepping out of the room, “that’s enough.”

I glanced at him, an unexpected wave of panic bubbling in my gut.

“You’ll be fine, Purples,” he said, inclining his head. “You don’t need

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