Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(5)

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue key card and dangled it in front of me. “Say thank you.”

“For what?” I would not cry. I would not cry!

“Allowing you to eat, of course.”

“What?”

“I’m not finished talking,” he said smoothly. “This key card gains you access into the elevator only once a week. It also gains you access into the cafeteria, twice a day. Not three times. We don’t want you gaining weight. Use it wisely and if you impress me with your ability to follow directions. I may just up your freedom. Until then…” He shrugged and cleared his throat. “Move aside.”

I couldn’t move. It felt like a nightmare. Who the hell was this guy, and seriously, who made him the president of the school? I was afraid to talk to anyone. Afraid to do anything except stand there and stare at the card in my hand. It said E. E., but it may as well have said Nixon’s.

“Move aside,” Nixon repeated, this time his teeth were clenched together. I jerked up my head and looked at him. I mean, really looked at him. His eyes were a crystal blue, like the fires of hell had frozen over and the ice staring back at me was the result of orange flames dying slowly. His entire face was symmetrically perfect. As if some famous supermodel and actor decided they should create a love child and programmed perfection in a computer. His hair fell over his forehead haphazardly.

Nixon slammed his hand on the door above my head.

Okay, that was it.

I could take someone talking down to me. I could take someone making fun of me… I mean, hello? I knew I wasn’t anything important, but for someone to threaten me with violence? To my face? Especially some guy souped up on steroids? Hell. No.

Something snapped. I pushed against his chest. He stumbled backward, the look on his face changed from complete anger to disbelief.

“Did you just touch me?”

“You threatened me.”

“I threaten everyone.”

“Then you’re a bully.”

He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. A wicked smile played across his lips. “So you wanted to touch me?”

“No, I want you to leave me the hell alone.”

“Say please.”

“Please?” I begged looking directly into the depths of his soulless eyes.

“Hell. No,” he whispered and then moved past me and jerked open the door. A girl was waiting outside. He backed into my room and slammed the door again.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“Change of plans,” he muttered and then went over to the window and flung it open.

“What, you’re going to shimmy down the drain pipe?” I joked nervously. If this guy stayed any longer in here I was going to kill him myself.

“Nixon, open the damn door!” the girl screamed from the other side.

He laughed and stepped out of the window onto the ledge.

“Are you insane?” I yelled at him and grabbed his shirt. I would not be witness to his death, even as deserving as it may be.

“Hands off,” he barked, and then he was flying through the air. Holy hell, I’ve made him commit suicide.

“Nixon!” I yelled and looked over the ledge. On the grass, was a giant blown up tarp. Nixon landed on his back and then jumped off of it. He blew me a kiss and jogged off. Several tents and tarps were set up outside the dorm. It almost looked like a carnival.

The girl was still banging on my door. I rushed over to open it. She breezed past me. “That son of a bitch!” she yelled out the window. “Nixon, I swear I’m going to kill you when I see you!”

“I like you,” I said out loud.

“Did he hurt you?” The girl swallowed nervously and examined me head to toe, looking at my neck, and my arms.

“Um, no?”

“He’s the spawn of Satan,” she grumbled.

“And you are?”

She grinned and held out her hand. “Monroe. I’m Satan’s sister.”





Chapter Three



Monroe could be a supermodel. No, I take that back. She should be the girl that tells supermodels how to be supermodels. She was ridiculously beautiful, making my mind immediately transport to every single book I’d read in the past year that warned me against girls who looked like her.

This girl was like a walking advertisement to horny guys. For one thing, the dress she was wearing was so short I found myself gaping and then blushing when she leaned over to pick up a box to take to my room. Wasn’t there a dress code at this school?

“So, that’s all you have?”

She flipped her jet black hair back and pulled some lip gloss out of her bra. Her black dress inched higher again. Oh gosh, I was so completely out of my element.

“I… have a suitcase downstairs, but Nixon said—”

“—Screw Nixon. last time I checked, he wasn’t God, nor would he be wanted by Him. Now, let’s go grab your suitcase and I’ll show you where the elevator is.”

She linked her arm within mine and skipped down the hall. Somehow I had trouble keeping up with her even though she was the one in six-inch heels. We walked into the main corridor and then through a door facing the brick wall. As soon as we went through the door, I saw a row of elevators.

“Any reason they keep these hidden?” I asked.