63 The Reject Chapter 8 - 2

Alexandra flowed into the room as soon as he opened the door, eyes running over him, looking for blood. A brief flare of irritation lit him at the assumption he'd get hurt, only to gutter out under the cold practicality of his past. Like Elizabeth said, his record of getting fucked up every time he was alone spoke for itself.

Glaring at the other girls back, Anastasia easily transferred her hot glare to Elizabeth. Head down over her lesson planner, it was debatable if the teacher even noticed, but that didn't stop the Akatharton from venting the only way she could.

A twinge ran through him as he noticed they'd replaced their table with three desks. Taking the seats to his sides, the two girls pulled books out of their bags. It was simply his good fortune they didn't want the same side.

The class trickled in, singly and in groups, they paused on the threshold. Each needing a moment to summon the courage to enter the fey room. Passing the three of them, the class gave out darting looks meant to conceal twisted emotions and corrupt hungers. The rest of the school didn't know how to deal with the trio, but that was nothing compared to the kids who spent half the day with them.

Halfway into class, Miss Raven started writing on the board. "I want you to get into groups of two. The assignment will be in two parts, a written exam and a public speaking part. You can decide who will do either part, but you'll share the grade."

Cesare sat straightened as the words swirled through his mind. The girls already watching him expectantly. This was his first day; he wasn't supposed to have to deal with this shit his first day. How the hell was he supposed to choose between the two? No matter what he did, he'd reject someone. With that one thought, the world crystalized.

"Miss Raven?" Cesare called out, waiting until she'd turned before continuing, "Do the teams have to be two?"

Elizabeth paused, eyes moving over the three of them. "The assignments designed for two students, each person taking an equal share of work." Hesitating, she pushed on with a grimace. "I don't think it would work with three. There would be no way to divide the work evenly and no way for me to know who did what."

Cesare nodded as he settled back in his seat with a smile. "I understand, Miss Raven." Relieved, she returned his smile. "I'll take a failing grade on the assignment."

The room went dead at his words, Miss Raven's smile withering under Cesare's truth "I'll take a failing grade as well," Anastasia said into the pregnant silence, glaring at Elizabeth, blaming the teacher for the grade.

"I too, will take a failing grade. I refuse to do this without Cesare as my partner," Alexandra said into the deathly stillness. The vampire looked steadily at Miss Raven, completely at ease with her decision and any repercussions. She wasn't starting a fight, but she showed no signs that anything short of death would change her mind.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell them they didn't need to do it. He was fine taking a failing grade rather than rejecting one of his friends. Anastasia's eyes were dark with anger, daring him to say a thing about her standing with him. Alexandra was as calmly unwilling to change for him as she was for Miss Raven.

"You're the ones that'll have to live with the consequences." Miss Raven's eyes hardened. "I won't be giving extra credit to make up for it," she said with a measuring look. When they showed no signs of recanting, she sighed and turned back to the board.

Miss Raven continued as the two girls moved their desks next to his, forming one long table again. If they were going to get a failing grade on the big assignment, they needed to be as close to perfect on every assignment she handed out.

Cesare gave himself a moment to appreciate the sacrifice the girls made. Where he was bone stupid, they were incandescently smart. The places he belonged didn't care about grades. But they had a chance at real futures, and the ivy league schools they hunted would demand an accounting for a black mark. That they'd wanted to support a friend wouldn't impress.

This would only put more distance between them and the rest of the school. They'd stood together and refused to be parted, but in doing so, they'd broken from the rest of the class. If people thought they were incestuously close before, that rumor would grow teeth after today.

The other kids formed into groups of two while the trio focused on the work they could do. Only Miss Raven crossed the boundary between the two sides of the class with impunity, answering questions, mediating disputes, cajoling or threatening her class. Even as she herded kittens, her eyes often rested on the three problems.

As the bell rang, the three of them cut their way through the crowd of students with the authority of a great white through a school of tuna. If the school cast them out as different, separate, and untouchable, Cesare would paint the image in terror's scarlet colors. It was one thing to be a lone turtle in the sea, and another to be the shark that owned the ocean.

Lunch went by quickly as they worked through his back log of stupid. Cesare had years of academic neglect to make up for, that he was keeping his head above water didn't mean he was making it. Even using every bit of spare time they could steal or borrow was barely cutting it, years of abandonment couldn't be made up in months.

Putting the books away, Cesare stood with his eyes on the clock. "I should get going, I don't want to be late for Viktor's class."

Exchanging an indecipherable look, the girls stood at the same time. It was eerie and somewhat frightening that they'd acknowledged each other. Usually they preferred to ignore the other's presence like a bad smell they had to suffer through.

Stopping outside the cafeteria, he was ready to say goodbye, until they made to follow him. "You know, I can find my own way." Again, they shared that look, before turning to him silently. "You're going to follow me all the way to class, aren't you?" They both gave him a slow nod. He waited a good minute for an explanation before starting down the hall with a sigh.

Like silent shadows, the girls stayed in step with him. In his life, there were no happy surprises, nothing good just happened to him. Everything good came from blood and sweat, tearing its pound of flesh from his soul while giggling madly to itself. Every surprise he'd ever had was barbed and jagged, rusty with the remains of broken dreams.

Tension spiked, his body pulling muscles tight as adrenaline raced through his veins. His walk shifted, center of gravity turning to quicksilver, resettling itself with each step, preparing for the attack. You couldn't stop bad from knocking on your door, but you could get your licks in before it fed.

Stopping in front of Viktor's door, he wasn't surprised the girls waited for him to open it without making a move to leave. Pushing the door open, his other hand gripped the cool handle of his switchblade. You never regretted being ready, but you always paid for being careless.

The room hadn't changed since the last time he'd come. Mats were strewn haphazardly across the room, torn and stained from years of blood and sweat, worn thin as a whore's mattress. Rust crawled across the metal benches and weights in cancerous growths, dirt streaked the walls and bred in corners. Stripped of every grace, the room demanded respect with bared teeth.

The padding on the metal benches was old and flat, making it little better than bare steel. Unadorned stone walls, bare of comfort, were a lesson for those looking for one. Nothing was given, everything you wanted had to taken, there was no kindness or charity in this place. The room had only one purpose, working the meat of the body, bleeding it out, sweating it into the stone, until flesh turned hard.

Viktor's long mane of twisted hair swayed with the fluid grace of his body. Muscles bunched and loosened across his arms as he turned. His eyes passed over Cesare, locking onto the girls with palpable hunger. Cesare wasn't stupid, he knew the girls were breathtaking. Beautiful, successful, and powerful, made for a heady combination. He'd wasn't blind to the stares from the students and faculty.

Cesare wasn't anything to look at and being next to them only made his discordant face all the more out of place. They were suns, and he was the shadow between them, like the void between stars he was dismissed as nothingness. That's why it didn't surprise him to see lust race across Viktor's face, or the subtle shift of eye that excluded Cesare from the conversation.

"What can I do for you ladies?" Viktor asked, eyes running over Anastasia's body. He didn't register the tormented wasteland of melted flesh that was her face, focusing on tits and hips.

A brief look of distaste rolled across Anastasia's face at Viktor's leering look. "I'm transferring into your class," she said as she held out a folded paper.

Viktor's eyebrows rose as he read through the paper. Looking up, he swiped an identical form from Alexandra. "I can see why they had me put in separate wash rooms and new showers." Shaking his head, desire fled his face as he looked at the girls. "Lets be clear, if you aren't willing to get dirty, sweaty, and leave hurting, this place isn't for you." The girls listened with an edge of boredom.

They were creatures of obsessive ambition. Alexandra had trained since before memory to be a soldier. She'd bled, maimed, and killed before the age of ten, soaked her soul in the carnage of her craft until the training pulled her across the border of sanity into the purity of the psychotic. Anastasia was born into the same mold, even if she trained in diplomacy, manipulation, and the power of the unholy Ebon Flame. Dedicated to being greater than she was, she forced her growth until the fabric of her existence cried in agony. They didn't fear hard work, only failing.

"Fine. You're changing rooms are back there," Viktor said, jerking his thumb at the new door in the back of the room. Locked onto the sway of their asses as they walked away, the man absently continued, "Cesare, you know where to go."

They'd redone the changing area, washing the stained stone and adding a scarred wooden bench along the wall. A shower head stood in the corner where the old pipe had been. Hanging his suit on a hook driven into stone, he put on sweats and one of his stained white shirts.

Coming out he might as well have been invisible. The girls had beat him to the floor, and Viktor had fallen in lust at first sight. Alexandra wore loose black sweats that showed off her hulking, muscled legs and toned ass. A gray, short sleeved shirt strained to contain massive shoulders, deforming as it stretched over biceps and triceps. Strong, sleek, and powerful, Alexandra owned a beauty wedded to overwhelming physical power.

Anastasia was the real shock. Cesare had half expected her to be in her skimpy combo of spandex and sports bra. While he was sure she had that on underneath, she was wearing shorts and a tank top. That didn't mean she wasn't worth a second and third look. With nubile legs of milky white running up to a bubble butt, she was every teenage boys and not a few girl's dream. The tank top couldn't hide her large breasts even with her sports bra compressing them.

Either of them would stop traffic, but together they were a male meltdown. He didn't blame Viktor for staring for a long minute before shaking his head and visibly taking himself in hand. "I'll work with you two while Cesare goes through his workout. I need a feel for where you are before we design a regimen."

Alexandra stepped forward, her eyes leaving Viktor and focusing on Cesare. "I would rather have Cesare working with me. I don't feel comfortable with anyone else spotting me." Alexandra continued over Viktor's aborted attempt to cut in, "I don't want a guy more interested in looking down my shirt than helping me lift."

To his credit, Viktor didn't dispute that was exactly what he'd be doing, instead turning to Anastasia. "You want the same?"

"I didn't come here for someone to look at my tits either," Anastasia said dryly. Viktor couldn't help his eyes from drifting down to her breasts as a wide smile stretched across his face.

"Okay, I can't argue with that. Cesare will do the spotting, and I'll do the instructing. It's not how I like to do things." Winking at the girls, he continued, "I like to be hands on."

It was a repeat of his first day with a full body workout meant to judge where a man stood. The biggest difference was that the girls were far stronger than Cesare. He'd started out low and over the past months made steady gains, but the girls shredded his numbers. While Anastasia lifted just above his best, Alexandra blew past him with frighteningly casual strength.

It wasn't just that they were used to working out. Here, where only numbers mattered, their true natures tore through the lie of humanity. Thousands of years of evolution revealed in all its grace, they were Darwinian predators raw with the supremacy of their creation. Stronger, faster, more adaptable than anything a human could dream of, they were abominations birthed to slaughter. Like crocodiles, old and true, born in an age of ancient brutality, they carried aged cruelties in their bones. It had taken Cesare months of dedicated work to get strong. For Anastasia, it was a side interest. A hobby she played at while taking a break from honing her gifts.

The girls were fine until squats. Coming up behind Anastasia, Cesare helped settle the bar on her shoulders. "You want to go straight down; I'll guide you before we put weight on it." Taking her hips with easy familiarity, the silky-smooth shorts felt strange after months of touching her with nothing between them. As he got her familiar with the movement, they increased the plates to get a rough upper limit, which turned out to be just above Cesare's.

Shaking his head, he set the bar down and moved back to let Alexandra take the space. Slipping in front of him, the vampire racked on the weight, blowing past Cesare's best and moving into horrific. He was beginning to understand what it meant to be a prodigy of a people dedicated to the genocide of the mad gods' toys.

Alexandra's body was the cornerstone of her power, it drove her sword, quickened her feet, and allowed her to peel flesh from bone with her bare hands. This was where she derived her power, this was her land, her altar to the gods of slaughter. It was in places like this that she'd crafted a strength that terrified the rulers of shadows. With every weight she lifted, Cesare understood why she was feared.

Getting under the bar, she stepped forward with liquid grace, dropping in a controlled squat, and rising with casual dominance. If it wasn't for the bar giving a low whine of distress as it bent under the weight, you'd never suspect how much she was moving. Viktor stood, tense and ready to leap forward if she lost it. Cesare wasn't sure how much weight she was squatting, but it was over a thousand. The frightening thing was the ease, as if it was barely a warmup.

The smooth movement mesmerized Cesare, her sweats tightening across her muscled ass as peaks and valleys formed along her back. After thirty reps, she racked the bar and faced Viktor. "You'll need to get a special bar if I'm going to do any work here. This one won't cut it."

Viktor nodded, eyes never leaving the vampire prodigy. "We got one in the back; I use it for my own workouts," he said, looking at the weight plates as he calculated the math. "You didn't use your powers, right?"

"Of course not. My father says our powers only augment what's there. To use them in strength training defeats the purpose of the training."

Viktor looked away, but not before Cesare caught the wary look. The demonstration hammered home how strong the vampire was, and why she was considered a threat even to her own people. Without using a drop of blood to power her body, she was already stronger than any human could be.

Viktor stayed back as he called out the exercises, letting Cesare demonstrate or swoop in and give a helping hand when muscles gave out. It happened more with Anastasia than it did Alexandra. Luckily, all Cesare had to do was help her guide the massive weights to the ground, not try to lift it himself.

By the end of the two hours, Viktor had what he needed. They'd work out together, but they would switch some exercises around in favor of others. "This class is about what you bring to it. You either find it in yourself to work hard or you fail, I won't carry you."

Alexandra paid attention with the forced politeness given to small children. She'd spent her life pushing herself to be the best, without anyone holding her hand. Anastasia was the picture of thinly veiled impatience, eyes glazed with disinterest.

Hurrying to the changing room, Cesare stripped before taking advantage of the shower. Last quarter he'd kept the same sweat soaked clothes on because he had Tamlin after. It didn't make sense to clean up, only to get sweaty again. But he didn't have the girls to worry about back then.

Getting into clean clothes, he lifted his duffel and headed into the gym. He only had to wait a few minutes before the girls joined him. Starting for the door, they stopped as it opened before they'd crossed half the room.

Flooding into the room in a wave of testosterone laced aggression, the next class was entirely Second and Third years. Cesare had seen them a few times, but this was the first he'd faced them with the girls. The boys made a wall of male flesh, closing ranks and blocking the door. Their eyes locked on the girls with the raw need of teenage madness. It didn't matter that Anastasia's face was melted and ravaged, none of them were looking at her face. Their attention was on tits and ass, eyes running lasciviously over her and Alexandra as they circled the trio.

The women settled into place at his side with an almost audible click. Anastasia and Alexandra may hate each other, but that was between them. Any problems were kept in the group and dealt with in private. The girls locked into place without a second thought at any external threat.

Grinning and laughing, the boys surrounded the three, mouths open in appreciation, tongues tracing wet lips. They were a mixed bag, previous students of Viktors when he ran the combat classes jumbled in with gym rats. They didn't like the girls, they just wanted their flesh. The girls weren't people to them; they were a collection of parts they wanted to rub their cocks on and in, just fuck dolls for their pleasure.

Cesare spied Viktor to the side and out of the way, watching the scene with cool evaluation. It was the look of a man studying an enemy. Unless this turned deadly, Viktor would let it play out.