by Maya Daniels
“You have so much life, so much passion in you, child.” Soren’s rasp has me spinning fast to make sure I am not imagining it.
“Now you want to fucking talk?” Laughing like a crazy person, I wipe the tears with my forearm. “It was mentioning the dagger that woke your old ass up, wasn’t it?”
“I always know when you are here.” He chuckles.
“That’s all sorts of wrong, you know that, right? And rude!” Now that I know he really is awake and I’m not insane, I plop back down as I was before with my head on the bed. “Rude old fart, that’s what you are. Why don’t you say something? At least tell me to get the hell out.”
“I have nothing to say.” He sounds thoughtful. “When I do, I speak. And I like it when you come to see me.”
“So, you have something to say now?” I perk up at that. Maybe he will tell me something useful for once.
“No.” He sounds as confused as I feel.
“You know that you are talking now.”
“You were crying.” I can hear him move his head in my direction.
“So that’s the trick to get you talking? All I have to do is cry?” Incredulous, I turn to glare at him.
“I don’t like it when you are crying, child.” Sighing, he shifts on the bed. “We are the same, you and I. We feel too much. It’s a hard burden to bear.”
Fear stabs me at his words. Is this what I have to look forward to? To sleep forever, waking up only when I have something to say? There must be another way. Maybe fighting the hunters is not that bad of a thing after all. Which reminds me why I’m here.
“You know that someone is killing off guards and students here?” Pressing my forearms on the bed, and climbing to my knees, it’s like I’m praying to him. Or for him. “You—” Rethinking my words, I rephrase what I wanted to say. “We are connected, bonded to the Academy. I’m still new to this and don’t understand it. Do you know who is doing this? Who is killing between these walls?”
“There are always those that try to hurt this Academy.” With his eyes still closed, he shifts again. “There will always be those that will try to hurt it.”
“Okay.” Dragging out the word, I wait. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
“What is your question, child.”
“Do you or don’t you know who is killing in this place?” Pushing the words through clenched teeth, I glower at his peaceful face.
“That is the wrong question,” he tells me gently, and I see red.
“I don’t fucking know how to ask the question, Soren. People are dying, I want to stop whoever is killing them. Phrase that as the best version of a question on your own.”
“You are angry with me.” He sounds like freaking Zoltan right now. “I do wish to help you; I just don’t know what you need from me.”
“If you keep pissing me off, I’m going to come one day and dress you in a tutu. A pink one with glitter on it.”
“What’s a tutu?” Soren sounds genuinely curious, and I find myself answering him.
“A fluffy skirt.” Snorting at how ridiculous that sounds, I blow out a breath. “I’ll dress you up in a skirt.”
“Ah.” He chuckles happily.
“You like wearing skirts?” I eye him to see if he will tell the truth.
“I do not know.” A big smile stretches his lips. “I’ve never worn one. This tutu you are talking about.”
“Tell me how to stop this killer and I’ll buy you one in every color.” I think I realize that Soren is like a child. Things that stress us out mean nothing to him at all.
“With glitter?” Is that excitement in his voice? What the hell?
“You like glitter?’ I flinch at the way I ask that question. I’m no one to judge what he likes or doesn’t like.
“I do like things that sparkle.” A grin stretches his lips.
“Fine, I’ll start bringing you shiny things if you help me out.” If this doesn’t work, I’m fresh out of ideas.
“No one kills for no reason.” All the happiness and humor leave his face. “Those that do for the sake of taking a life are messy, gruesome killings. Was that what you found between our walls?”
“It’s not messy, no. The bodies are just left there, all the blood missing.” A shiver rakes my spine. “The ones in Sienna, it’s that shadow. The one consuming them all.” Azgor didn’t say that, but I have no doubt in my mind I’m right.
Soren’s eyes snap open.
“Shadow? Consuming life?” The yellow dragon eyes search my face. I hold my breath, forgetting how to speak for a second.
My head jerks in fast nods.
“Yes, it’s horrifying, Soren.” Gulping air, I blow it out a couple of times to calm down. “I’ve never felt so terrified in my life.”
“You have seen it?”
“Yes, once.” Recalling that night, I remember the male that saved me. Zoltan. My heart thumps painfully in my chest. “Zoltan saved me, although I didn’t know who he was at the time.”
“Yes, Zoltan has many strengths. One good thing this Academy has done.” Soren nods thoughtfully. “The shadow you speak off that devours life sounds like one of the old gods. None of them have crossed a portal. This I know.”
“I know what I saw.”
“Be that as it may, magic is a powerful force for those who know how to wield it. Perhaps your answers lie there.” His eyelashes flutter, and his eyes close. “Speaking is so tiring at times.”
Knowing I’m out of time and won’t get much more out of him, my words come out in a rush. “And the one killing here? Tell me something, anything. Please.” My hand latches onto his arm over the covers.
“Blood.” His lips barely move as he mumbles. “The answer is always in the blood, child. And it has nothing to do with family.” With that enigmatic comment, he smiles and goes silent.
“Great!” Plopping back down, I huff a breath. “Like we need more riddles.”
My thoughts are racing, trying to decipher what his words mean. Do we need to look for the blood that’s missing from the bodies? Excitement claws at me. Was I right and Cassius is somehow related to that hunter Jack? Are all the answers with his daughter? Maybe she is our killer; she sure had a nasty attitude. But he did say it has nothing to do with family. What the fuck does that mean?
My eyes get heavy, and I slump more on the thick carpet. I can feel my body sliding to the side and the soft fibers pressing on my cheek. I know I should get up and go find my room, but I’ll just stay here for a moment. Just to think everything through. My last thought is, I hope there will be no new body to find tomorrow.
21
“You really love stressing the life out of everyone.” Fenrir’s frustrated growl meets me the second I step foot out of the golden hallway.
I did feel bad when I opened my eyes and realized I’d fallen asleep next to Soren’s bed like a pet that didn’t want to leave his side. It didn’t last long—the guilt I mean. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this rested. Soren might be an annoying and selfish old fart, but there is something about him and his presence that gives me peace. The similarities we share might be it. I’m not sure and I don’t care. I feel like I can take on the world right now.
“Right, because I did this on purpose.” Pushing the sleeves up my forearms, my shoulder bumps into him when I pass him by. “Do you have any news, or did you just stand here to tell me what a horrible person I am for falling asleep?”
“How are you feeling?” The Fae falls into step with me, and the worry in his musical voice makes me feel like shit for snapping at him.
“Like I was never hurt, if that’s what you’re asking.” Blowing out a breath, I shove my hands in the pockets of the pants. “That mage you have on call is excellent. Maybe you should be nicer to him.”
“That’s good. You are handling it better than most.” Ignoring my not-so-subtle comment about the mage, Fenrir sighs in relief. “Not that it surprises me.”
“Is Astara not doing well?”<
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I call Soren selfish, yet I haven’t even thought about my friend. And I say I hate hypocrites. Reality check, Franky, the voice chirps in my head. I push it down in frustration; the last thing I need is to have conversations in my mind with the multiple personalities sharing this body.
“She needed to rest and feed.” Fenrir waves away my worries with a flick of his wrist. “She will be fine … is fine, I promise,” he adds when I suck in a sharp breath.
“Where is she?” My feet are already moving faster as I lift my nose in the air, sniffing in hopes of catching her scent. “And no one died in the meantime, right? Because if someone did, that should’ve been the first thing coming out of your mouth.”
“No one died.” He chuckles. “Leo and his pack were on watch ever since you left to see Soren. Did he talk to you?”
“You’re getting off track. Astara?”
“She took your room for the night. I think she was expecting you to be there after seeing Soren. I assume she’s still there.”
“That’s perfect.” When he lifts an eyebrow at me, I shake my head. “I need a shower and to get out of these clothes. Two birds, one stone and all that.”
“Ah, right. Well, I just wanted to see that you are well.” Nodding thoughtfully, he scans the open space around us, his head tilting up to check the winding stairways, as well. “I have a few things I need to check, Zoltan and Azgor are looking into Cassius’s daughter and his bloodline. When you freshen up, you and Astara can meet us in the dining hall.”
‘What, no more talks behind closed doors?” I have no idea why I’m doing my best to irritate him. It’s not his fault any of this is happening.
“We all need to eat.” Not taking the bait, Fenrir gives me a smile and a curt nod, veering off to one of the hallways.
I slow down, watching him walk away. We have come a long way—all of us—in such a short time. For some reason, I think about all the years I spent as part of the Supernatural Agency of the Accord, and how unwelcome and tense I felt the whole time there. Even my partner—including the couple I had before him—made me feel like I didn’t belong there. I was never enough. Not smart enough, not fast or strong enough. How strange that I feel so accepted in the one place that should want me dead.
Soren’s words echo in my head. “The answer is always in the blood, child. And it has nothing to do with family.” Can it be that simple? Was everyone purposely misled to believe that half bloods are despised and unwelcomed, as well as killed on sight by Daywalker Academy and its residents for merely being hybrids? Or is there more to it?
Shaking off that never-ending train of thought, I rub my forearms, warding off the sudden chill I feel. My skin prickles, goosebumps spreading up my arms and legs. With a frown, I swivel my head, searching for something or someone. People move around with their heads bowed, the silence stretching around, only the clicks of their boots on the tiled floors creating a rhythm that matches the beat of my heart. They are not looking at each other, and the familiar hum of hushed conversations or the occasional laugh or shout I come to expect is missing. Passing the stairways with my gaze, I do a double take when my brain registers a familiar face climbing up to the third floor, but it’s gone before I blink.
“You are seeing shit, Franky. Go shower. You stink.” Reprimanding myself under my breath, I spin on my heel, heading to my room.
The hallways change from the nicely-decorated ones with plush runners adorning the floors to the stark gray I’m accustomed to. I do slow down for a moment when I walk by the portraits hanging in one of them—one in particular luring my eyes to pay it attention. I still can’t figure out why it nags at me that I should know who it is. I do have to turn around after that since I forget the Fae, and the bloodsucker made me change rooms. That’s my life now, I guess. They move me around whenever they feel like it.
Reaching my door, I shove it open. “Honey, I’m home!”
“It’s about time,” Astara drawls, stretching out on the bed and leaning her head in her hand after she props up on an elbow. “It made me realize how boring it is without you around.”
“What can I say? I’m here for your entertainment.” Giving her a grin, I push the door closed. “You feeling okay?”
“As good as new.” She grins back but sobers up fast. “I didn’t get a chance to say thank you.”
“You should thank Fenrir, not me. And try not to make it seem like you are really, really, thankful. He is arrogant enough already.” My attempt to turn it into a joke is wasted.
“I heard what you said.” She swings her legs around, sitting up on the bed. “Whoever doesn’t see what a wonderful person you are is an idiot.” I shuffle my feet, feeling uncomfortable under her pinning gaze. “I’m the one that should be grateful you call me your friend.”
“Grateful. Friend. Right. Okay.” Groaning because I know I sound like an idiot, I stab my fingers in my hair, scratching at my skull. “I’m not good with mushy stuff. Sorry. Thank you?”
“You don’t have to say anything.” She laughs at the pained look on my face, and probably for phrasing the words “thank you” as a question. “Let’s just not talk about it and rock the shit out of this friendship. What say you?”
“I can do that.” With a smile stretching my lips, I duck my head to hide the reddening of my cheeks. “Right after I shower.” Catching a whiff of the dried blood and sweat makes me gag.
“Yea!” Waving a hand like she’s shooing me off, she wrinkles her nose. “Go wash, you stinking peasant.” Her laughter follows me in the bathroom. “And leave the door open so I can talk to you. I won’t perv, I promise.”
The smile stays on my face as I yank the clothes off me in disgust. The fabric has gone so stiff at this point that it looks like I’m still wearing them even when I take them off. Never do this again, Franky. Breathing through my mouth, I agree with that completely.
“At least we had an uneventful time while you were with Soren,” Astara calls out.
“I thought you were resting.” Sticking my head out, I scowl at her.
“I rested, fed, and then wanted to check on things. What with guards dying around and all that.” Her mouth twists in a grimace. “Better be safe than sorry.”
“It had nothing to do with one particular guard, I’m sure.” Ducking back in the bathroom, I squeal—actually squeal when she throws a pillow at my head.
“Whatever.” I peek again, but her glare sends me to the shower. “What I’m saying is everything was normal. Not even the usual sneaking out of rooms happened, apparently.”
Stepping under the spray of water feels like I’m being reborn. Astara stays quiet while I watch all the dirt and grime swirl at my feet, disappearing down the drain. My mind wants to drift to many important things pushing for attention, but I force everything down, allowing myself to just breathe. But right now, I feel like this is the calm before the storm, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the feeling to go away.
I feel Zoltan somewhere nearby, not close enough to be in my room, but close enough. My heart picks up a beat, and just this once, I let it. Soren said the Daywalker is one thing this Academy has done right. I have to agree with that. I’ll be damned if I become his downfall. Washing my hair roughly, frustration digging a hole in my chest, I push the thoughts of him away, too.
When the water runs clear, I step out of the shower, snatching a towel off the hook sticking from the wall. I stare at my reflection in the foggy mirror, my hand swiping a line where I can clearly see my face. The water is gathered on my eyelashes, turning them into a few thicker peeks sticking out of my eyelids. Droplets trickle on the sides of my face, stopping for a moment at my chin and clinging for dear life before they fall, splattering on my collarbone. That’s how I feel right now. Like I’m holding onto a cliff, nails digging in solid rock but slipping with each breath I take. Eventually, I’ll lose my grip and splatter like the droplets of water falling from my face.
The magic pulses in the center of my chest.
Shaking the thoughts away, I take a deep breath, my vision clearing. A slight smile lifts the corners of my lips while I dry myself. It is almost as if the magic is trying to comfort me. Reminding me that there are things I still don’t understand that maybe, just maybe, will be enough to keep me on that cliff. If not forever, at least long enough.
“Fenrir said to meet them in the dining hall when we are ready.” Stepping out with the towel wrapped around me, I rummage through the drawers to look for clothes.
“Sounds like a good plan. I’m starving.” A loud growl from my stomach follows her words, and she laughs. “I’m not the only one it seems.”
“I can’t remember the last time I ate.” Pressing a hand to my stomach, I rush back in the bathroom, dressing up as fast as I can.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Astara chirps. “I seem to remember clearly the last time you fed yourself.”
“Oh, dear fates, don’t be an ass.” All the blood rushes to my face, my cheeks burning. “Don’t ever mention that.” Coming out, I stab my feet in some boots. “Like, ever.”
“I’m just saying.” She shrugs, and I wonder if her face hurts from her lips stretching so wide.
“That’s what I get for having a friend.” Grumbling, I buckle the boots but can’t stop my smile. “Let’s go see what the males have to say for themselves.”
“I can’t wait to hear what Soren said.” Jumping off the bed, she’s first out the door. “Curiosity has been eating me alive, but I kept my mouth shut.”
“Curiosity killed the cat”—Following behind her, I close and lock the room—“or so they say.”
“Not this cat, I assure you.” Clawing the air in my face, she grins evilly. “This cat has very sharp claws.”
“And fangs.” Laughing when she lifts her chin proudly, I push her gently. “Let’s not forget the fangs. Now, move.”
22
The air is literally sucked out of the room the moment I step foot in the dining hall. Astara stiffens next to me but otherwise stays quiet. It’s not as packed as it usually is, which makes me wonder if people chose to stay in their rooms—or anywhere else they need to be—to not risk being exposed to our killer. I always think there is safety in numbers, but what do I know? Being alone is my choice rather than having people around me because I can always count on myself.