Luna Valdez closed the door of the faculty lounge behind her, grateful for the silence. The room offered a sanctuary of dark mahogany panels, butter-soft leather chairs, and crystal chandeliers. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the ocean, while a fully stocked bar occupied the far wall. Not that she'd touch it during school hours, though the thought was tempting after what had just happened.
She shrugged off her blazer and draped it over the back of a chair, rolling her shoulders to release the tension that had built there. The cold she'd generated in the training arena always left her muscles tight afterward. A small price to pay.
Luna moved to the espresso machine—a top-of-the-line model that had appeared mysteriously after she'd complained about the previous one. She suspected Director Angelo had ordered it specifically for her, though neither would ever acknowledge it.
