Page 37 of Psycho Gods

Facinorous (adjective): atrociously wicked.

“The angels have returned from their scouting mission!” The alarm blared over the room’s enchanted speaker system.

Pain stabbed my temples.

The alarm burned my overly sensitive ears.

“The first ungodly infestation has been located, and RJE devices have been calibrated for coordinates. All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria in .03 hours. Repeat. All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria in .03 hours. Reminder to move stealthily, quiet must be observed in open areas. Do not compromise the base.”

I climbed out of my bunk.

Clothes rustled and voices swore as my legion mates rushed to pull on their standard-issue military gear that Orion said was all black: insulated undergarments, flexible snow pants, a thin but warm jacket, and heavy combat boots.

I was already fully dressed.

Ever since we’d moved into the war camp, I slept fully clothed.

I was always more prepared than everyone else. Planning ahead for every situation and iteration to make sure I didn’t inconvenience those around me.

My mates never judged me, but the rest of the world did.

I was the blind one.

I’d always be weak, no matter how many times I proved I was strong.

My ears rang as the high-pitched sirens wailed, and a crippling headache pounded against my temple.

“Are you okay?” Corvus asked as he massaged the base of my skull like he always did when I was around headache-inducing sounds.

I nodded at him.

Orion gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek, and I basked in his tenderness, then I pulled away regretfully.

We had obligations.

War.

Adrenaline pounded through my veins, and I cracked my neck back and forth.

Ever since we’d learned how alone we were in this war, I’d been itching to do something. I needed to take action. It was obvious that the High Court was wholly unprepared for what was to come.

Sounds erupted as my teammates scrambled to get dressed.

The voice that haunted my dreams swore softly, and I stalked across the room toward them.

“Do you need help?” I asked, every cell in my body highly attuned to her presence.

Arabella grunted. “I can’t find a hair tie, and my stupid curls are—”

I pulled the band off my wrist and held it out to her.

“Where did you get that?” Her voice was accusing, and she didn’t take it.

I sighed with annoyance. “Take the fucking hair band.”

“Explain.” She snatched it from my fingers.

“I have it on me in case Corvus needs to keep his pretty hair pulled back,” I sneered sarcastically.