Spire

~~ Second Class

Ivy’s conflagrant blue eyes glowered petulantly down at the gargantuan needle the malevolent nurse from hell was sticking her with, “I hate this place. How many days will it take of drawing blood to figure out that I’m not Catwoman?”

The elderly woman put a cap on the last vial and placed a small bandage on her arm before responding, “You’ll be one of the first to die this term, I think.”

Parker entered the sterile room and nodded dismissively at the nurse, who bowed and left without a glance back. “Still making friends, I see?”

“Must be charisma,” Ivy leered.

“These vain attempts to put me off with that noxious attitude must be frustrating for you,” Parker sympathized.

“Thanks for the girl talk, guy. But I’ll take a rain check on eating cookie dough in our pajamas,” She hopped off the doctor’s table. Parker was a full foot taller and twenty years older than she. Uninhibited insolence and aggression were all she and her brother demonstrated.

“I fear the defiance which drives you now will soon fracture your sanity. It’s tragically common for despair to overwhelm those such as you once they’ve adjusted.” Parker adjusted his extravagant silk tie and insouciantly handed her a straight razor.

Ivy blinked, stunned.

Isaac blocked a wayward haymaker from his mutually reluctant sparring partner and glanced at the instructor with uncertainty and disdain. Focus was a fickle bitch since the security personnel separated him from Ivy. More matches tanked than won, more professors pissed than pleased, and more restless nights than sleep. Grueling as physical drills were, they were eminently more pleasant than the excruciating experimental punishments he’d undoubtedly be forced to endure again if he refused. Memories of the last bone marrow extraction the facility surgeons had given him were sufficient motivation to get his head in the game.

A rush of self-preservation adrenaline sparked reflexes he’d never previously been aware of. Isaac’s opponent was afraid, clumsy, and weak. A quiet voice in the back of his mind asked what Ivy would think of the beast astir within him. But the question was soon drowned out completely by the cold truth: if he did not exhibit ample savagery in front of the instructor, he’d never see his sister again.