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Salad was beginning to become a bore. Clementine stared down at the leaves of lettuce and slices of cucumber and tomato laid out on his plate. The lunch hall had quickly filled with students, and while Elliot told Mavis and Mathew how to identify a wolf walker, Clementine glanced around the room.

          Despite having Mathew with them, he still found he felt unsettlingly cautious. Ian's threat echoed around inside his head, his injured body throbbed at the memory of the beating he'd received, and he couldn't help but ask himself, what if Sebastien hadn't come along when he had? It would have all ended right there and then. Anette would have died for nothing, and so would he.

          He didn't want to focus on that, though. He'd lived through it, he was still breathing, and he had a plan.

          "So, remember," Elliot announced, his voice breaking through Clementine's thoughts, "the eyes."

          Mavis clapped her hands. "You're so brilliant, Elliot!"

          Elliot smiled shyly. "Oh, I just...studied a lot."

          Mathew nodded. "It is good to have vast knowledge, especially in a place such as this."

          Clementine crunched a piece of cucumber between his teeth and sighed. "What about demons?" he asked. "You thought Mathew was one—how do we tell those apart from the crowd?"

          "Well," Elliot said, stirring his coffee with a spoon, "that really depends. There are many different species of demons. Some have pointed ears, some don't. Some are pale, others aren't. But the biggest tell-tale sign is the fact they form packs. Demons are often compared to wolves in studies; they group up, have an alpha, betas—some larger groups have an apex, which rules over several other alphas and their packs."

          Nodding, Clementine listened.

          "They also smell a little like sulphur—yeah, all demons have their unique scents, but there's always that hint of sulphur, no matter what."

          Sulphur.... Clementine frowned strangely. He'd smelt sulphur the night he'd found Molly—the night that creature had chased him. Could that mean that creature was a demon?

          "They hiss a lot," Elliot continued. "Snarl and growl and stuff—they're so grouchy, rude, stuck-up, but that pretty much sums up most of the kids here anyway. Oh, but never try chatting to a girl demon that's been imprinted on. I knew someone from Ripperton who tried flirting with this demon girl, and her mate swooped in and...well, it was a mess, to say the least."

          Mathew nodded. "Yes, demons and their imprinting—"

          "Imprinting?" Mavis asked curiously.

          "They sort of...mark the person they want to be with forever," Elliot answered. "I guess it's kind of romantic, but also a bit barbaric. It's like sticking a label on someone and saying, you're mine forever," he mocked, flailing his arms around—he was evidently very excited about having the opportunity to share his knowledge with their new allies.

          Clementine looked him up and down; he wasn't sure why he found himself so bothered by the fact he didn't know what Elliot was, but he certainly didn't look like a demon. He rolled his eyes and shuffled around in his seat—but that was when he saw Ian. The black-haired kid glared at him from across the room, and without breaking eye contact, he placed his lunch tray down and immediately headed over to Clementine's table. Connor and Horace followed, as did several other kids Clementine had seen Ian around...and with each step, he felt his heart beating a little faster, and his instincts to bolt and flee became so overpowering that he felt himself sweating.

          Surely Ian wasn't about to attack them in the middle of the lunch hall, was he? With all these witnesses—but he didn't stop. He moved closer, faster, clenching his fists, a look of murder in his eyes. Clementine's jaw chattered as he tried to muster the words to warn his oblivious allies, who were sitting with their backs to the approaching storm, and where his words failed, he instead reached out his trembling hand. They had to get up, they had to run—

          "Hey babe."

          Clementine flinched as a chair was pulled out beside him, and as he sharply turned his head, he set his horrified eyes on Sebastien. Him. The white-haired kid sat beside him, placing his plate on the table.

          Elliot, Mavis and Mathew stopped chattering and looked at him, and as Clementine's eyes quickly shot back to Ian and his mob, his allies turned to face them, too.

          An infuriated look warped Ian's face. He gritted his teeth, having stopped in his tracks. First, his eyes shot to Sebastien and then to Mathew, who gripped the table with his huge hands and huffed something of a growl at them.

          "Can we help you?" Sebastien asked Ian with a smile on his face.

          Ian's friends murmured behind him, but the kid just glared at Sebastien.

          Clementine wasn't sure whether he felt angry or relieved. Of course, he was glad Ian had been stopped in his tracks, but he was annoyed that this white-haired kid just kept showing up out of nowhere.

          "Come on," Ian uttered, heading back over to where he'd left his tray.

          His goons reluctantly followed, leaving Clementine and his allies in peace.

          "They're not going to stop, are they?" Elliot uttered fearfully as he, Mavis and Mathew turned back around in their seats, facing Clementine.

          But Clementine immediately turned his head and glowered at Sebastien. "What the hell do you want?" he growled.

          Sebastien smiled as he glanced down at the slice of chocolate gateau on his plate. "To sit and eat my cake—"

          "Wait, I know you," Elliot interjected.

          They both looked over at him.

          "You were on the jury."

          "That's right," Sebastien confirmed.

          "What are you doing over here?" Mathew asked him. "Law students must stay on their side of the academy."

          Sebastien smirked. "I'm special."

          Mavis giggled.

          "Wait..." Elliot uttered, looking him up and down. Then, he looked over at Clementine. "Is this...the guy?"

          "Guy?" Sebastien asked curiously.

          Clementine dismissively shook his head...but that didn't stop Elliot.

          "You asked me about a guy that looks just like him," Elliot said, pointing at Sebastien with his fork.

          "Aw, have you been talking about me in my absence?" Sebastien asked, nudging Clementine's shoulder with his own.

          "Get off me!" he grunted, shoving Sebastien away.

          "A-and Molly described the guy that attacked her looked like you, too!" Elliot accused, glaring at Sebastien.

          "Who is Molly?" he asked, ignoring Clementine's angered scowl.

          "Was it you?!" Elliot snapped, pointing his fork at him again.

          Sebastien scoffed. "Was what me?"

          "Was it you who attacked Molly in the courtyard?!"

          The white-haired kid kept an annoying smile. "I wouldn't waste my time attacking anyone in the courtyard."

          "Who are you?" Mavis then asked, a curious smile on her face.

          "He's no one," Clementine grumbled, still glaring at him.

          "Aw, don't be like that babe," Sebastien complained, moving his arm around him—

          Clementine forcefully pushed his chair back with his feet, putting some distance between himself and Sebastien. "I'm not your babe!" he growled quietly.

          "What's he talking about?" Elliot questioned.

          "Are you a friend of Clementine's?" Mathew asked.

          Sebastien scooped a little of his cake onto his spoon and rested his arms on the table. "Oh, I'd say we're a little more than that," he said, and as he glanced over at Clementine, he winked.

          Clementine wasn't sure what he was feeling right now. Anger, embarrassment, and a growing desire to smack that kid's smirky, smug face. But all he could do was sit there, glare, and watch as Elliot, Mathew, and Mavis looked at one another strangely in response to Sebastien's answer.

          "What is he talking about, Clemytine?" Mavis asked, looking over at him. "Have we missed some sort of sign?"

          Finally finding his voice, Clementine shook his head and gritted his teeth. "We're not anything!" he insisted irritably. "He's obsessed!"

          Sebastien laughed quietly as he slowly dragged his lips over his spoon, leaving not a trace of his cake's chocolate sauce on the metal. Then, he glanced over at Clementine. "Don't overreact, babe—it's fine—"

          "Stop calling me that!"

          "Perhaps you should leave our table," Mathew suggested. "You're making my friend uncomfortable." He glanced over at Clementine.

          "He's always like this," Sebastien dismissed.

          "Uh, no he's not," Elliot interjected defensively. "I'm his roommate, and he's never been like this with us—his friends."

          "I told you, Clem and I are more than that—"

          "Don't call me that," Clementine snapped, but his anger made Sebastien's smirk grow, and that increased his frustration.

          "I don't like you," Elliot said, glaring at Sebastien.

          "Okay."

          "We don't like you," Mathew said.

          "Okay."

          "I like him," Mavis said with a smile.

          Mathew and Elliot looked over at her and frowned.

          Sebastien looked over at Clementine. "You know those kids are gonna kill you, right?"

          Clementine's scowl thickened.

          "We can handle them," Elliot said confidently.

          Ignoring him, Sebastien kept his eyes on Clementine. "Looks like you took my advice—"

          "I didn't take your anything!" Clementine growled.

          "Okay," he laughed, eating some more of his cake.

          But then, Professor Huxley's voice broke through the crowd. Clementine looked over at him, watching as he scolded a girl who had just spilt milk onto his shoe.

          "Anyway," Sebastien suddenly said.

          Clementine looked over at him.

          "I better get back." He shovelled the rest of his gateau into his mouth and stood up. "See you later, little mouse," he said with his mouth full, patting Clementine's shoulder.

          He tried to shrug Sebastien's hand off, but he let go and walked off before he had the chance. With an irritated scowl on his face, he watched the white-haired kid strut off. He placed his plate on the counter, and as he left the hall, the group of starry-eyed girls he passed by giggled and whispered.

          Rolling his eyes, Clementine scooted back to where his seat originally was and glared down at his salad.

          "What the heck was that all about?" Elliot uttered.

          "Who was that who just sat?" Mavis asked.

          "No one," Clementine grumbled.

          "He seemed to know you," Mathew said.

          "You called him obsessed," Elliot added.

          Mavis giggled. "Little mouse?"

          He sighed in frustration and leaned back in his seat. "He's just some random guy. I don't know him." He didn't want to talk about him, nor did he want to admit that white-haired kid had almost killed him twice and had also saved him from Ian and his goons.

          "What did he mean by taking his advice?" Elliot questioned.

          "I don't know, Elliot," Clementine muttered irritably. "Maybe he came over here because he knows we were hanging out with Carmichael and wanted to see if we were involved for extra points or something."

          Mathew nodded. "That is a good point. Investigation is a part of the law students' training."

          Elliot's face seemed to turn green. "Oh...."

          "Don't worry," Clementine uttered. "We weren't involved." For a moment, he wondered if that was why Sebastien had been appearing, but the white-haired kid had shown up before Carmichael had killed Nicolette's sister, so the possibility he was investigating them like Mathew had suggested wasn't plausible...was it?

          "Well, he didn't seem all that scared of Ian," Elliot said. "I'm not surprised since he's one of the survivors of whatever the heck happened on his side of the school."

          Mathew nodded. "But...Clementine," he said, shifting his turtle-like gaze to him, "are you sure you don't know him? He wouldn't have come over here for no reason—"

          "I don't," he lied. "Like I said, he probably just wanted to check us out because we hung out with Carmichael and that."

          "Well, I don't ever want to see him again," Elliot said, finishing his food. "He gives me the creeps."

          "I think he was cute, and he stopped us from getting involved in a dispute," Mavis said, glancing over at Ian's table, where Ian and his goons were muttering to one another.

          Clementine rolled his eyes again. "Whatever." He didn't want to talk about him anymore. "What are we doing after lunch?"

          "I think we should just go back to our dorm," Elliot said. "I don't want to risk running into Ian and his friends."

          "We could all hang out!" Mavis suggested. "We'll have so much fun, no doubt!"

          Mathew nodded as he finished his sandwich. "We could play chess."

          Elliot smirked. "Oh, so you're ready for me to beat you, huh?"

          "We shall see," he said.

          Clementine sighed. He couldn't do anything until tonight, and as much as the idea of watching people play chess made him want to crawl into a hole and die, he had no choice. He had to stick with his allies. "Yeah, sounds good," he agreed.

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