by LJ Swallow
Clive's familiar voice calls out through the dark and I back away from the fire slightly in case he spots me talking to this guy. "The academy are pretty rigid about shifting, yeah."
"Academy? You one of those local kids?" He cocks a brow. "Nineteen yet?"
"Yeah. And nineteen in a couple of months."
"You should be fine then. Keep to the program."
Program? "Right."
He swigs from the bottle in his hand then licks the liquid from his lips. "Want some?" he asks when I watch the action.
"Nah."
"Go on."
"Heavy night yesterday." I pull a face. "Still feeling rough."
"Hair of the dog?" He thrusts the bottle at me again.
I cross my arms. This is one situation where I’ll keep away from peer pressure. "Who's in charge here?"
He splutters a laugh. "Nobody is 'in charge'. That's the whole point."
"But the program," I say, hoping to hell I don't sound clueless about the situation.
"In here, mate." He taps the side of his head with a finger and his ragged nail is as dirty as the rest of him. "Reprogramming their bullshit." My chest tightens at his words. "Are you sure you know what this is about?"
"Liberty." Clive's voice startles me as much as him using the word—somebody put that one in his mouth. "Ash. If you'd asked, you could've come with us instead of sneaking around." His eyes are hard with challenge even though he laughs and claps me on the back. "Nah. Welcome. I knew you'd join us eventually."
I scratch my nose, surprised by his pleasantness. "Are you the guy in charge?" I ask, semi-sarcastically.
He chuckles. "We do what we want."
"We're shifters. Somebody is always in charge," I say with a fake laugh to match his.
"Jordan. Who's in charge?" he asks the guy.
"Not you, mate." Jordan drains the bottle in his hand then tosses it into the fire. "Are there any more drinks?"
"Yeah. Ray has a stash." Clive points to a skinny shifter with Seamus. "Did you have any problems on the way up here tonight?"
"Nah. Learning to hide better." I tense as he gives me a friendly shove. "Listen to Clive. He knows the score."
Yeah, I'm sure he does.
Clive watches Jordan walk away, and I tune into him. I don't sense or smell aggression, but the friendliness is fake. As soon as Jordan is out of earshot, he turns back to me.
"What do you think then?" he asks in a snide tone. "Worth following us?"
"Is this what you do? Party?" I ask.
"Yeah and shift—but you knew that." He drinks. "What did you think we were doing? Forming a militia to overthrow the Confederacy?"
I scowl at his mocking tone. "That's what Vince wants, and he’s your idol."
"Idol." Clive snorts. "He taught us shit, then he pissed off somewhere without telling us."
"You don't know where he is?" I ask. Then who did Gail see?
"He's your brother—don't you know?"
"You know me and Vince have our differences.”
A howl across the moors echoes towards us and two tall guys opposite us call back before dashing into the dark.
The scene around could be a gathering organised by rebellious academy teens who want to step away from their world that’s under adult control, but there's a cult-like vibe similar to my time at the farmhouse. These people are more than just Nightworld academy kids.
"I bet your dad doesn't know about your parties, Clive. Gatherings like this aren't allowed."
"’Gatherings like this aren't allowed’," he mocks. "Those who make the rules are the old guard, remember? We want to reclaim our birthright."
Again, words that don't sound like Clive. "By getting drunk on the moors?"
"Letting loose. Shifting. Preparing."
"Preparing for what?" I ask sharply.
Clive shakes his head. "Dude, Vince made a lot of sense. He connected us to other groups around the world who share the view that shifters should secede from this world."
"Uh. Clive. Do you even know what that word means?"
"You saying I'm stupid?" he half-growls. "Yeah. I do. We break away from the Confederacy. Shifters take back their sovereignty."
"Is there a manifesto, Clive? Because this sounds like you're quoting one."
"You mean like the brainwashing used at the academies? Be good kids and you can help lead the future? Perpetuate the oppression, more like."
With every unusual word from Clive's mouth, my nerves grow. "You know that's not true." I pause. "Does this situation involve hurting or hunting people, Clive?"
He sneers at the words. "Only if they interfere."
"Is that a threat?"
"Yeah." I blink at his directness. "You're weaker than us, Ash—mentally and physically. You’re under their control, and why? Because the authorities know you could be a strong opponent. That's why the witch has her claws in you—the Confederacy recruited her to bring us down."
I rub my nose with a palm as I take in his ridiculous view of my situation. Is this linked to the Dominion or not? I can't picture Dominion mobilising a shifter army against the Confederacy, because the shifter splinter group wouldn’t take instructions from those they hate: witches and vamps.
"And you haven't seen Vince recently?"
"Nah. I heard Confederacy caught him. Did you drop him in the shit, Ash?"
"Because he was killing hunters?" He's not the only one who can be direct here. Clive’s expression doesn’t change. "Others know about the hunting, Clive."
Moistening his lips, Clive leans forward, eyes darkening in warning. "We gotta practice somehow and hunters would kill us given a chance. Keep it shut. Betray your race and you'll fucking regret opening your mouth. So will your friends."
"If you attack us, Confederacy will put you in Ravenhold, you know that."
He smirks. "Ravenhold is coming down. Shifters will tear apart the whole fucking structure of persecution and enslavement, Ash, not just that place. Dominion or Confederacy won't control us."
"This bullshit doesn’t sound like something you’d say, Clive. Who's filling your head?" I ask in exasperation. "You could die. Powerful witches and vampires control both sides. There's trouble coming."
"Oh, yeah, you're right. A shitload of trouble."
This guy is beyond reasoning with. I scan the surroundings, counting how many are here. More than twenty, and a mix of guys and girls; some from the academy and others who never made the grade. Somebody took the top picks to create their blind followers.
If shifters break away, will they police each other and hide, or will the world learn about the danger lurking in human society?
If that happens, there's only a matter of time before the rest of the supernatural world is exposed.
Is that the Dominion's end goal?
Chapter Fifty-Two
ASH
How long do I hang around? After an hour, I’ve seen nobody but drunk kids.
The attack against me that I expected didn’t happen, and Clive lost interest in me after his lecture. The vehemence and shining zeal in his eyes frightens me more than if he'd shifted and attempted to tear me apart. Vince infected enough strong shifters with his poisonous words to continue his work, and Jordan's words about a ‘program’ send a chill through me. He implied more kids join all the time.
What are they planning? I sit on the cold, hard ground by the fire, away from everybody, occasionally glancing at Clive and his core group. These guys aren't thinkers and Clive definitely never uses eloquent language.
Why did Clive outline the plans? He knows how distant I am from his aims, and that I'm connected to a group who fight for balance. Most of Gilgamesh ignore goings-on between the other two houses and barely registered the attack on the Walcott kids; they're disconnecting at every level. Theodora needs to tell the Confederacy about this shit and let them get a grip before things go too far.
Or are the Confederacy amongst this group tonight? There's no possible way something this huge c
ould fly under their radar—they already know about Vince's aims and activities.
If a war is brewing, there'll be spies.
Somebody sits beside me and I turn my head. A tall girl I don't recognise from the academy stares at me. Her long dark hair drops in a straight curtain either side of her head with a sharp fringe halfway up her forehead and the eyes gazing at mine have a hint of feline—yellow with unusual pupils. Have any of these kids become mids in the process of the program? They'd be powerful and easier to manipulate.
Like Clive.
This shit gets worse.
"Hey," she says, her voice soft and smile flirtatious. “I’m Rosalie.”
Oh, great.
"Hey." I look back to the crackling flames.
"Do you know Clive?"
"Yeah."
"Can you introduce us?"
Ah. I tip my head to look at her as she cradles a small bottle in her hands. She’s Clive’s type—slender, but uh... endowed in the right places. "Won't he talk to you?"
She smiles coyly and picks up a stick from beside her. "He's hard to approach."
"Clive’s important? A leader?"
The fire crackles and flames flare as she tosses the stick into the fire. "Not officially. There's another guy who comes sometimes. Clive listens to him."
I sit straighter. "Does this guy talk to the rest of you? What does he look like?"
I describe Vince to her, but she shakes her head. "Nah. This one's skinnier. Long hair. He never hangs around long."
"Is he definitely a shifter?"
She pulls a non-committal face. “Maybe. Never got close to him.”
I watch as she drinks from the bottle then licks her lips. “What are you drinking?”
“Just cider. Want some?” She offers me the bottle.
“All good. I’m not a fan of cider.”
“We have other drinks. Beer?”
Is that all? They’re kids getting wasted at an illegal party on the moors and shifting? “Anything stronger?”
“You mean vodka?” Her full lips part. “Oh. Drugs. Nah. Declan might have some Lix; he deals.”
A wiry guy stands in the dark just far enough from the bonfire to obscure himself and close enough not to hide. He’s the only other person here who commands an audience.
“Yeah. Thanks. I’ll chat to him.”
Rosalie stares at me long enough to make me uncomfortable. “Will you?”
“Will I what?”
“Introduce me to Clive! You’re from the fancy academy too. I can tell.”
“And you’re not?”
“I live in Skipdale—a few of us do. It’s nice not to hide anymore.” She finishes her drink and sets the bottle on the ashy ground. “Be part of something where I belong.”
I grit my teeth because I can’t ask more without sounding clueless. “Is there another gathering soon?”
“Not sure. We only find out a few hours before—messages.” She nods. “They have your details, right?”
“Yeah. They sure do.” I stand. “Okay, I’ll introduce you.”
Her face, already lit by the fire, grows brighter. “Awesome!”
Clive now stands with Des and Simmo, shoulder to shoulder rather than gathered like the others. He takes a good eyeful of Rosalie as I introduce her.
Des’s expression isn’t welcoming. “What the fuck? Ash?”
“Hey.” I eye the kids sitting around them. “How’s it going?”
“Did you invite him?” he snaps at Clive.
“Nah, but you knew he’d come eventually.”
Simmo beside him crosses his arms. These aren’t the jovial guys Vince introduced me to at the farmhouse; they’re guarded and more than a little suspicious. “Spying for your little gang?”
I shrug rather than deny. “Orgies on the moors? Not exactly a threat.”
Rosalie giggles. “This isn’t an orgy.”
“A meeting of minds,” says Des. And bodies. “We have a common interest.”
Everybody I speak to repeats the same thing, but nobody is specific. How long do I need to wait to see or hear something useful?
Or do we need to accept that this situation isn’t linked to Maeve’s vision?
This could be a separate issue altogether.
“Huh. I know when I’m not welcome,” I say.
“Yeah, tell your little gang to leave us the fuck alone,” growls Simmo.
Unable to take anymore shit from these people and pissed off I’ve found nothing, I turn away.
The party continues, although there’re less bodies around the bonfire and more people in the shadows or calling from a distance. I’m worried about my race’s future and frustrated that I’m no closer to understanding.
Shoulders slumped, I make my way towards the outcrop, averting my eyes from a group I pass. If Maeve hadn’t arrived and I’d stayed as Ash, king of Gilgamesh, would someone have dragged me into this mess? I run a hand across my hair. I’d like to think not, but I can’t ignore the cliché attached to my life.
There’s an animal within me.
Chapter Fifty-Three
ASH
My journey back with Tobias is fast and silent. He’s as disappointed as I am that I found nothing, but also worried about Clive’s words.
Tobias doesn’t say this, but I know what he’s thinking: no immediate threat.
But still a threat.
Sneaking back onto campus in the early hours with Tobias feels strange. The guy was never my professor, but always around campus and stepping in to break up clashes between houses. I'm lost in thought about tonight as we tramp through the woods towards the lawns, but when the academy building emerges from the dark, I've an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu.
Three Confederacy cars are parked in the driveway, front and centre, not hidden in the shadows, and the lights are on in the main academy wing. Nobody leaves those on once lessons finish and the professors finish their day.
Tobias halts next to me. "Shit."
"What's happened?"
"Something bad. Confederacy don't arrive in the middle of the night."
"The tunnels?" I ask hoarsely.
Taking a few steps forward, Tobias lifts his head. "There's nothing happening. I can't sense panic or pain, but there's an atmosphere of distress blanketing the grounds."
Fuck.
We hurry towards the building and I pause outside. There's nobody around campus—few kids walk around at this time, but usually one or two hang about.
"What are you doing outside?" asks a gruff voice.
A guard steps from the dark space beside the steps leading to the main doors. I recognise the tall, burly man, but I don't know his name. Like many guards, he isn't friendly.
Especially not currently.
"Just taking a walk," I say and look to the silent Tobias.
"Everybody is confined to their houses until the morning. Security are rounding up anybody walking around campus."
Tobias’s soft tones interrupt. "He's with me, Ray. I presume I'm allowed to walk the grounds?"
Is Tobias using mental magic or stating a fact?
Ray grunts and studies me. "We’re not looking for a professor and a shifter, anyway."
"Why?" asks Tobias. "What's happened?"
He straightens. "Another attack."
My stomach lurches as I meet Tobias's eyes.
Definite déjà vu.
But who's the victim and what type of attack?
Chapter Fifty-Four
MAEVE
A death.
Hemia confined to Petrescu and the school year cut short.
No more challenges.
No celebration.
The end.
And the heart beats in my mind once again.
I join the other students in filing from the hall in shock at Theodora's news. Some kids actually complain that the challenge is cancelled, which disgusts me.
At first, I presume Kimberly is the victim, but the story is worse than that.
> Two witches—possibly more than one attacker.
Definite hemia attack and from the macabre details whispered, a frenzied one.
Confederacy haven't banished hemia from the academy straightaway; they're questioning them and forcing them to remain inside.
How ironic that my situation matches the last time this happened—another step into taboo territory with Andrei and we're split apart again. I’m sick with worry he might be blamed again. The authorities can't accuse Andrei and send him to Ravenhold.
I touch my skin at the place between my neck and collarbone and the rush of excitement flows through again. Why did nobody mention the addiction by a vampire to witch blood prompts the same in their lover?
When I was thirteen, I dated a guy a couple of years older than me and earned a serious love bite and I failed to hide the bruise from my upset parents. Make-up would cover this carefully made mark, but the taboo is much greater than the bruise from six years ago.
I've more evidence to give as Andrei’s alibi this time, if needed, but I hadn’t intended to tell the other guys about our step. We planned to tell them together, but I can't see Andrei until the academy closes next week.
Only Petrescu are allowed in their building and no hemia can leave.
Theodora all but broke down on stage and Garrett had to escort her away to allow Sofia to take over. I was surprised to see Tobias with the gathered professors too, but everything has changed again.
Any student who wishes to leave before the end of term can do so, and frightened Walcott witches call parents. Exams are cancelled, leaving other kids loudly complaining that studying and lessons were a waste of time.
The normality Theodora attempted to hold onto turned her academy into bedlam.
My heart thumps against my chest as I look around in a daze, faces and sounds fading in and out of my awareness.
Days.
Something will happen and we have no idea when.
Ash appears and draws me into one of his engulfing hugs, blocking out all sounds as his broad forearms wrap around my head. I wriggle away from him.
"You walk a fine line between comfort and suffocation," I tease.