Untamed- House of Berserkers

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Untamed- House of Berserkers Page 5

by Lacey Carter Andersen


  “They let me have these?”

  The berserker shrugs. “The angels get their swords. The shifters their teeth and claws. The witches their magic. So, we get our weapons too. But if you kill anyone, be prepared to die in a detention cell.”

  His mention of a detention cell isn’t enough to curb my enthusiasm as I swing them in the air, glorying in the way the perfect blades spin.

  “Although,” he continues, “I have to say berserkers tend to stick to maces and shit. It’s usually only the big guys who use axes.”

  “These were made for me.” By my godfather, and the town blacksmith.

  “That explains why they’re small enough for you.”

  “They’re big enough to fill my hands, that’s usually enough for me.”

  He blushes. “Well…uh…yeah.”

  I set them down, find my back sheath, and slide them into the leather. It hurts a little to put them away, but I’m no fool. Sharp things get put away. How many times had my dad told me that?

  “Can I take a shower and get changed?” I ask.

  He nods and pushes open a pocket door beside my bed. “Since you’re the only female berserker, we gave you the room with a private bathroom.”

  “That’s…awesome,” I say, and actually mean it.

  He smiles at me. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yeah, uh, what do I do after this?”

  He blushes. “Oh yeah, you being a hot girl kind of made me forget the usual routine.” He points to my desk. “There’s your schedule. Follow it to a T.”

  “Thanks.”

  He hesitates as I grab another favorite outfit. “Listen, Kiera?”

  “Yeah,” I say, stroking the soft leather of my clothes.

  “This place…it’s not like anywhere you’ve been before. It’s dangerous. So don’t get thrown off by the pretty scenery or the school structure. You screw up here, you die. Or worse. And being the only female berserker…well, some of the guys were taught to cherish females like they should, and some…well, some of these guys really deserve their sentence here.”

  I look up at him and hold his gaze. “I really appreciate the warning.”

  He nods. “You have twenty minutes, then the next class. Don’t be late. Trust me.”

  “I won’t,” I promise.

  He leaves, and I lock the door behind him. For a minute I just stare at the handle. I want to pretend I’m okay. I want to pretend that none of this matters because I chose this path, but it does matter.

  I gave up my old life, my freedom, everything…for a strange man. A man who is somewhere at this reform school. I needed to find him and find out why the hell he saved me.

  Oh, and avoid the giant, Drake, that I’d made any enemy out of.

  And also, apparently, a lot of the men here.

  This is going to be fun…oh so fun.

  Chapter Nine

  Emory

  A guard shoves me along, and I have to fight to keep from going berserk. Anger rolls under my skin, and I have to practice my breathing to keep from changing. I didn’t want Kiera anywhere near me. I didn’t want her to know who I am and who I’d become.

  But something inside me was on edge, driving me mad, pestering me with questions about where she is and why I hadn’t seen her. Was it possible they killed her anyway? I’d deleted the security recording the moment I’d seen it, but was someone left alive who could tell them who really killed the vampires?

  Gods, I hoped not.

  When we reach a clearing of trees, I see several students sitting around in a circle. The guard pauses, still too far from them, and calls out, “Go on then to your class, this is as far as I go.”

  I cast him an annoyed look, but he races out of there like he’s trying to outrun a fire. Which wasn’t exactly comforting. What the hell is with these people here?

  Looking back at the group of students, I hear the buzz of their low voices, but none of them move. They seem to hold themselves strangely still. An instinct sends the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

  “Be careful, boy.”

  I stiffen and spin toward the voice.

  A man emerges from behind a bush. He’s middle-aged for a supernatural, with a bushy brown beard and deeply set dark eyes. He wears a baseball cap so low over his head that his eyes just barely peek out and a loose flannel shirt. In his hand is a rake, and he wears gloves as he rakes the leaves from around the bush.

  “Hello, sir,” I greet.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  He sounds irritated.

  “Yeah, but what am I supposed to be careful of?”

  He jerks his head toward the class beneath the trees. “That area of the woods belongs to the Myrmidons."

  “Myrmidons?” I repeat, frowning.

  He rolls his eyes. “Don’t you know anything about anything? Myrs are warrior insects.”

  I can’t help the chuckle that explodes from my lips. “Warrior insects? I’m a berserker, so sorry if I’m not shaking in my boots.”

  He leans on his rake and glares at me. “What are you, stupid? Myrs are dangerous as fucking hell. See all those powerful students in there holding perfectly still? They’re trying not to piss the fuckers off. The garden teacher likes to play a game when she’s bored. She brings them to the garden and waits to see if a student pisses them off, and the little beasts kill them slowly and painfully.”

  “Insects?” For some reason I’m having trouble picturing that.

  He scoffs. “Yeah, imagine a million ants with swords and spears, you jackass. Imagine all the insects around you perfectly capable of flaying you to death, very slowly.”

  That did paint a picture.

  “Not so smug now, are you, berserker?”

  I incline my head. “Thanks for the warning, sir.”

  He makes an irritated noise. As he walks away, the sunlight glitters over him for a half a second, and his image grows transparent, then returns to normal.

  I’d have to keep an eye out for that guy.

  Not wanting to see if the old man’s warning was true about the insects, I walk cautiously, watching my every step, as I head for the woods. I see nothing remarkable about the forest, but all the students seem to track my movements with a mixture of fear and awe. So I step carefully, scanning the grass beneath my feet before placing my foot anywhere. It’s awkward, but the whole flaying to death image is sort of sticking with me.

  When I reach them, the teacher flashes a smile and speaks in a low voice. “Emory, right?”

  I nod, immediately feeling on edge. The woman looks nothing like my brother. She has long grey hair left loose around her shoulders. Her skin is wrinkled, and she wears a dress covered in flowers and an apron. And yet, something about her reminds me of him.

  Maybe it’s just the strange man’s warning ringing through my head, but I swear beneath her smile is that same sadistic thirst for pain. It lingers beneath her eyes like a shadow. Everyone who meets my brother thinks he is charismatic, charming, and kind. Hell, I’d thought that too when I first met him.

  But then I’d gotten to know him.

  And I had the sense that this woman might look like someone’s sweet, old grandmother, but that she was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

  “Welcome to class,” she greets, and she sounds very happy I’m here. Too happy. “Join us.” She gestures to a spot next to her.

  I avoid it and sit down carefully between a couple students.

  It’s strange. I swear all of the people in her class are terrified. Sweat beads off of several of their foreheads and tears glimmer in one woman’s eyes. My gaze runs over everything around me and lands squarely on a place where the grass is tinted red.

  My eyes narrow. If I was a shifter, I’d have no doubt that blood lingered in the air.

  “Tell us about yourself,” she says, again her voice soft.

  I match the volume of her voice. “I’m Emory. A berserker. This is my first day.”

  Long ago I’d learned no
t to openly rebel against those in power. It was like putting your hand in a fire, you’d just get burnt. But I also learned there were ways to defy people that were more subtle, like telling this woman as little as I could get away with, without seeming openly defiant.

  When she realizes that I don’t plan to say more, she frowns. “Well, that wasn’t interesting.” Her head swivels to the woman with tears in her eyes. “Isabelle, tell him about our class.”

  The woman has short, brown hair and chubby cheeks that give her a youthfulness that’s pleasant. I get the feeling that outside of this situation, she’s nice to be around. But as she prepares herself to speak, a tear rolls down her cheek. “Ms. Green teaches gardening here at the Wicked Reform School. She feels very strongly that only those of us worthy of reform should survive our class.”

  “Good,” Ms. Green whispers, then licks her lips. “Tell him about today’s lessons.”

  I follow the old woman’s gaze and stiffen when I see a creature no bigger than three inches climbing the young woman’s stomach and moving to her arm. It’s got almost brilliant green skin, a little larger head than the rest of its body, and long arms and long legs. Clutched in one of its tiny hands is a spear, and its large eyes are narrowed as it climbs the woman.

  My hand itches to crush the creature in my palm, to ease the fear in the woman’s face. But even though berserkers are known for acting first and thinking after, my time spent with my brother had taught me that acting without thinking would get me killed. So, I hold myself back, letting my gaze slide around the woman.

  Suddenly, I stiffen. In the spot the teacher had told me to sit, I see the grass move. As my gaze narrows, I spot hundreds of the fucking creatures moving between the blades.

  Holy hell, that’s not good.

  The woman seems to take a minute to collect herself, then continues speaking, even quieter than before. “Today’s lesson—“

  A man, who wears a cloak with hood pulled down low, interrupts, his expression angry. “Is another chance for her to fucking watch one of us die horribly.”

  Ms. Green’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of anger. “That was disrespectful, Blake.”

  The man locks eyes with me. “She chooses the person she wants to break at the beginning of the class. Anyone else is just extra fun.”

  “Tisk, tisk, tisk,” Ms. Green whispers. “Kids nowadays have no respect. But then, that’s what led you here, vampire, right?”

  His jaw clenches, but he says nothing else.

  She moves her hand in a slow gesture, and the tension within the students increases. Suddenly, plants push through the earth around us and sprout forth, growing at a rapid pace. Bright green vines curl around us as we sit, almost trapping us in the clearing. Some of the little creatures are disturbed. An angry chattering comes, not just from the ones on the ground, but from every bush and tree around us.

  I swallow hard, my gaze darting around the woods surrounding us, then back to the teacher.

  She slowly drops her hand. “I think today is as good a day as any to clean out the class.”

  The young woman makes a strange sound, and I look back at her to see the little Myrm has reached her shoulder. It climbs the slight folds of her neck and clings to her ear, before swinging himself up. My heart races as the creature looks into her ear, then slowly pushes its way in.

  Suddenly, she screams and shakes her head, then tries to dig into her ear.

  My mouth opens in a warning.

  Her eyes widen, and then roll back into her head. She falls backwards. The second she hits the ground, she’s no longer breathing. Thousands of the creatures flood over her, and I look away as they use their weapons to stab at her flesh. Women were precious. Women were worth dying for. But this woman was already gone.

  This place is fucking twisted.

  The teacher stares at her with rapture. Her eyes seem to glow with pleasure, and she slowly licks her lips. I’ve seen a lot of disturbing things, but even I feel sick to my stomach.

  “May we go?” the vampire asks.

  Ms. Green answers with a distracted nod.

  We all rise slowly and carefully make our way back out of the forest. When we reach the grass where the sunlight reaches, another woman begins to cry and takes off. A man barfs into a nearby bush, and I stare at them all, feeling uneasy.

  Is this what all the classes will be like at Wicked Reform School?

  “I’m Blake,” the vampire says, holding out his hand.

  Vampires aren’t exactly my favorite paranormals, but we’re both here, so I shake his hand. His grip is tight, and his dark eyes, ringed by red, watch me carefully. When he releases my hand, I start back toward the largest building on campus, even though I have no idea where I’m going.

  “Did they run through your schedule and all that shit?”

  I shake my head.

  “Yeah, they don’t care enough to do more than dump us here. The guide for the House of Berserkers should have the info for your room assignment and shit, if you can even find him.”

  I grunt in response.

  We continue walking in silence, but I sense he has more to say. But then, vampires always have more to say. My brother thinks having the bastards in his home will make people see us as more than brutes, but he doesn’t seem to understand that vampires are just well-dressed beasts, not so different from us at all.

  But without souls.

  “Your brother wasn’t happy about you being sent here.”

  I stiffen, then move without thinking, grasping him by the shirt and dragging him closer. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  He looks shocked. “I heard some people discussing it.”

  I shake him. “What did they say?”

  He swallows hard. “They said he wasn’t happy, and that they were going to get to the bottom of you. And the woman.”

  I feel sick, but then, I shouldn’t be surprised. My brother has spies everywhere. He’ll have heard about Kiera and about what I did. I’d kind of hoped being imprisoned might protect both of us from him.

  Guess I was wrong.

  “That’s all I know. I swear!”

  I drag him a little closer. “Say nothing about what you heard to anyone. Understand me?”

  He nods, really fast.

  “Now, take me to where I can find my guide,” I order him, then shove him back.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, straightening his shirt. “You could’ve just asked.”

  Maybe I could have. But now that I know my brother has men here, I have to find Kiera. And soon. Or she might be in more danger than she ever imagined.

  Chapter Ten

  Kiera

  Before I could start my next class, I was called to the dean’s office. Which I was going to assume was a bad thing. A uniformed man leads me through the center of the Wicked Reform School, instead of around the outside path like the guard that had brought me here. And since this uniformed man is quiet, and not relentlessly pushing me forward, I take the time to look around.

  I’m surprised to find that passed the House of Berserkers, and the collection of training grounds, there’s a main part of the campus. It’s a collection of large buildings, spread out, with plants and trees weaving through them. Several fountains give a strangely soothing, almost elegant feel to a place that’s little more than a dressed-up prison.

  The silent man takes me to the huge building in the center of it all, and up two flights of stairs. Outside of a door, he raps in a strangely rhythmic way, then opens the door. He holds it open for me, then follows in after.

  In a monotone voice, he tells a young secretary, “Kiera of the House of Berserkers.”

  The pretty blonde turns to me and flashes a big smile, her voice sweet as she says, “Hi, Kiera. Just take a seat!”

  I eye her and the quiet man, then seat myself on some soft green couches.

  She picks up a phone and hits a button. “Hi, Dean Aero, this is Ms. Natalia Brevins.” She pauses, then giggles. “Oh yeah, don�
��t introduce myself every time, I remember.” Another pause. “Why was I calling?” She frowns.

  I lift a brow and wave at her.

  Her brown eyes lock onto mine. “Oh yeah, she’s here!” Another pause. “Kiera, the berserker.” Then, “Yes, sir. Thank you sir. Okay, I’ll remember to hang up.” She sets the phone down and beams at me.

  I stare back.

  Then she looks at the silent man still at the door. “You can go, Henry.”

  He leaves, closing the door behind him.

  She’s back to beaming at me. “I’m a golem.”

  I blink slowly. “I’m sorry?”

  “Sorry for what?”

  I stare. Is she serious? “I meant, I’m sorry, I don’t understand the golem thing.”

  “Don’t worry about it! There’s a lot I don’t know! Because I’m a golem. The Dean of Discipline created me to help run his office. Actually, he helped create most of the staff. I mean, the guards are mostly other beings, because they need more freewill to make quick decisions. But most of the staff are actually made, rather than born. Like me.”

  Okaaay. “So you were made…”

  “Like a doll.” She beams at me and stands up. She moves around her little desk. She’s wearing a tight pencil skirt and pink high heeled stilettos. She doesn’t wear a bra, and I’m kind of surprised by how tight and see-through her top actually is. “See,” she spreads her arms out on both sides of herself, “Dean Aero made me into the perfect secretary!”

  Already I don’t like this Aero guy.

  Suddenly, the door leading into his office opens. A tall man, wearing a neat blue suit and a tie that’s slightly askew, steps into our room. He has a look of barely concealed annoyance on his face, but like he’s trying really hard not to look angry.

  I tense, but the secretary just spins around on those tall shoes of hers. “Hi, Dean, I was just telling her about being a golem and your perfect secretary.”

  “Yes, well.” He clears his throat.

 

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