| |
So...secret societies. It's another one of those things we humans didn't see coming until it was too late.
Once the dust after the war settled, two kinds of secret societies eventually came into being. The gross one was basically a front for a sex cult, with orgies taking place in honor of lustful deities. Man themselves have founded these so-called societies, and the police, with the backing of virgin goddesses like Diana and Athena, have started cracking down on those that have started incorporating human trafficking in their worship.
As for the other type, well...
Legally speaking, the second type of secret society is more like a respectable non-profit. They're legit and charitable, and they frequently hold the hottest and most star-studded parties. But what makes this type of secret society a thousand times deadlier is the fact that they're all divinely founded...and thus outside the reach of human laws. While all gods from all major continents have unanimously agreed that no human may be forced to join such an order, it's a different matter altogether when said human joins voluntarily. Doing so means he's immediately forfeiting his right to ask for help from law enforcement - no matter what happens.
The latter type of secret society is not something anyone would want to mess with, and if rumors are to be believed, the Ancient Order of Sub Rosa is the most powerful among in its kind. Which is a good thing. Right?
Just thinking about it makes my temples throb, and I find myself unnaturally relieved when the professor starts handing out worksheets.
Today's seatwork in Scientia has us solving advanced equations for alchemy, and while I do admit it's more fun to play with numbers when gold's potentially involved, it still doesn't prove completely effective in keeping divine thoughts away.
By the time Cad and I are both done solving all ten questions, it's all I can do not to fidget in my seat as the professor comes to inspect our worksheets. I feel like I have more ants in my underpants than Poseidon has tridents in his walk-in closet, and I all but sigh as Professor Hondros folds our sheets with a look of approval.
"Good job, both of you." The older man blows on his pipe as he moves to the next table, and I wait until his attention is fixed elsewhere before turning to Cad...who's already on his feet, preparing to leave.
Oh no, you don't.
I kick him in the shin under the table, and Cad looks at me with a grunt. "What?"
"You can't leave yet."
"You may not want to, but I do. I just got Mila to say yes to giving me a ha—-" Cad seems to change his mind about what he has to say. "I mean, a happy time. Mila promised to make me a happy man, so if you don't mind—-"
I smile at him...before promptly pointing to his chair. "Sit." When he looks like he's about to argue, I decide to take a calculated gamble and arch a brow at his direction. "Are you going to sit or do I have to tell a certain god—-"
Cad falls back to his seat faster than I can roll my eyes, and I struggle to hide my surprise over my ploy actually working.
"What do you even need me for?" Cad grumbles under his breath. "If this is because I offended you by wanting to be lab partners, I would like to point out that I didn't force you—-"
"Why would I be offended?" I can't help asking.
Cad stares at me. "Is there even a single thing that you know about us?"
"Sadly, no...but I'm hoping you'll rectify that."
"We have only fifteen minutes left until the next class," Cad points out in an exasperated tone. "It's impossible for me to even scratch the surface about what makes up you-know-what——"
I can't help rolling my eyes. "You-Know-What? Really? We're not in Hogwarts, Harry wannabe. This is real life, and we're talking about something equally real. So if you don't mind - there's one thing I'd really like to know about the Sub Rosa—-"
"Will you keep it down, for gods' sake?" Cad throws me a look of almost comical panic. "It's called a secret society for a reason."
Seeing that he won't be appeased with anything more than a few decibels, I take a deep, calming breath and try again, this time with a clear attempt to speak like we're shooting a hush-hush scene in an Agatha Christie movie.
"Can you tell me about the secret M-A-R-K—-"
"You are seriously bad at this," Cad says with a groan, and honestly at this point, I'm tempted to start groaning myself. What did I do wrong again? I already whispered. What more can he ask for?
"How do you even do it?" Cad asks with what seems like genuine - albeit reluctant - admiration. "It's like you have this gift of making things uncool, which shouldn't even be possible, with you looking the way you do. But somehow...you just have to open your mouth, and bam. What's supposed to be the coolest organization in the universe has officially been un-cooled. "
"I feel like I should care about what you just said, but...I don't?"
Cad flashes a grin. "Now, that's cool."
I wonder if he'd still think I'm cool if he knows how close I am to strangling him. "Can we please stop wasting time and get down to business?" I point, hopefully for the last time, to the mark on his right hand. "Who gets to have that?"
Cad frowns. "Everyone who belongs to you-know-what, obviously."
I feel like I'm going to barf if I hear that term one more time.
"If that's all..." Cad starts to rise from his chair.
"I'm not done."
Cad falls back to his seat with a sigh.
"Do all male members have their marks on their hands?"
"I think so."
"And the women?"
The class bell chimes out from the PA system before Cad can say another word, but the horrified expression on his face is answer enough for me.
Ninety minutes of Istoría lessons go by in a flash, and I'm still beyond pissed when I join my roommate for lunch.
"Can I just say you do not look happy for someone who's supposedly made up with her god of a boyfriend?"
"That's because I'm not," I confirm shortly.
Nia watches me play with my pasta with a frown. "Is it the sex? Are gods not godly in bed? Is that it?"
Just when I've finally managed to feed myself a forkful, Nia just has to say something like that, and now I'm about to choke to death. After taking a huge gulp of water, I quickly put the record straight with just four words. "I'm still a virgin."
It's Nia's turn to choke, and I hand over her bottle of water.
"Gods always fuck at first sight," my roommate bursts out the moment she finishes tossing off her Evian like it's Chardonnay. "Always!"
"I heard you the first time around," I mutter, "but this god doesn't, and I used to secretly think he was being considerate, but after what I found out..." I stab my pasta with my fork for a second time...and keep stabbing it since I've completely lost my appetite.
"I'm just so pissed," I burst out. "I know I should've expected that a god like him would have...worshippers, and that whatever he's done with those worshippers is all in the past, but..."
"You're jealous," Nia gasps.
"I said I'm pissed—-"
"But you really mean jealous."
"It's stupid to be jealous over something like this—-"
"Haven't you heard?" Nia interrupts. “The more you like someone, the dumber you get."
Her words echo in my mind when I see my phone light up with a new text. It's from an unidentified number...which then turns out to be Professor Lucious'. He wants me to be at his office during Mirykasmós, and as I text him back with the affirmative, it's then I realize...
Nia's right.
The more you like someone, the dumber you get.