First Kill (Cain University Book 1)

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First Kill (Cain University Book 1) Page 11

by Lucy Auburn


  Grasping the brass handle of the righthand door, I tug it open, relieved to be going home.

  But there is no home on the other side of the door.

  A moment later, there is no door either—neither one of them is in front of me.

  Instead I'm standing inches away from Mason Kincaide himself, staring up into his warm brown eyes, the long braid of his dark hair resting against his shoulder. A brief expression passes over his face, something akin to guilt, though maybe I'm just imagining. Maybe he just farted, smelled the fart, and is hoping I don't smell the fart, too.

  I smell something, that's for fucking sure. Something like a trap.

  Stepping out of the darkness, cane in hand, Grayson Hughes studies me intently from head to toe. "I knew you weren't cut out for this place. And I knew I was right about who you truly are. Only a cold-blooded sociopath would kill Evelyn Lionsdale."

  Chapter 13

  I frown at him, torn between panic and confusion. "Eve isn't dead! She was asleep when I left her room. Unless... did something happen? Is she okay?"

  Grayson flicks a dismissive hand in the air. "She's not dead yet. But she will be as soon as you pull this little stunt of yours and run away like a coward. You know that, though, don't you? You accepted it when she vouched for you, and now you're turning your back on her because you don't want us to find out you're a fraud."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," I tell him, but his eyes remain as cold and impassive as his hair is a fiery red. Frustrated, I look to Mason, who at least seems to be a little bit more reasonable—even though he's the one who just fooled me with an illusion. "I'm not a fraud—I didn't kill my mom, just like I told you earlier, or... whatever you're accusing me of. And Eve isn't going to die." Though, I realize, I don't know that. "I mean, she would've told me if she was risking her life by vouching for me..."

  Wouldn't she have?

  The look in Mason's eyes makes it clear that I'm the one who doesn't know anything. It feels foolish, suddenly, to think that all I had to do was walk through the doors and go back to my old life. That life is gone now. Mom is dead. And Eve... Well, Eve was willing to put her life on the line to protect me. I guess it's time I return the favor. Especially because she's all I have left in the world.

  Raising my chin, I stare Grayson down, then meet the eyes of Levi and Wyatt, who are gathered behind him like dogs on short leashes.

  "Do your worst."

  Mason licks his lips, stepping back. He turns to Grayson, and says something to him in a low voice that I don't catch. But Grayson just waves him off. When Mason says something again, stubborn, the asshole takes a cane and thwaps the side of Mason's leg with it.

  "You did your part. Now fuck off." Advancing on me, Grayson meets my eyes with a gaze that seems engineered to look right through me, but I refuse to be intimidated. "You're trouble, Fresh Meat. I can smell it."

  "The only thing you can smell is your own farts."

  "Are we twelve? I feel like a man, not a child."

  "Keep fucking with me and I'll neuter you. See if you feel like a man then."

  He chuckles. Behind him, Wyatt looks down and away; Levi's eyes flick nervously to the back of Grayson's head then to me, and he wrings his hands together. Mason is just watching me, something strange in his face, like he can't decide what to think of me.

  It's clear who the ringleader of this little group is. None of them would be here if not for Grayson. They all wanted to step down the moment Headmaster Shu told them to—maybe even before that.

  He's a dick for going off against me like this, but he's even more of a dick for roping his friends into it.

  Anger flares within me when I look at him, and I remind myself that I'm not the same girl Jack used to push around. I'm a different woman now.

  For one thing, I know how to sever a man's leg at the kneecap without ruining pre-war hardwood floors original to the building. I would've gotten our security deposit back on the apartment—if I hadn't gone and gotten arrested. Take that, Martha Stewart.

  Looking at the Fuckfaces, an idea occurs to me. Licking my lips, I tell Grayson, "If you're so convinced I'm some kind of family-killing coward, why even care that I'm trying to escape?"

  "Because Eve deserves better."

  "You could just ask the headmaster to waive the rules. I mean—it's bizarre. Why should she have to die for me?"

  "Clearly you don't get it. The rules are in place for a reason. More importantly, I'm not letting you out into the world." He crosses his hands on the head of his cane, advancing on me, his steps slow and deliberate. "If you leave those doors, we'll hunt you down. I'll do it myself if I have to. Because someone like you can't be let loose on this world."

  There's something in his eyes more terrifying than his threat: conviction. He truly believes what he's saying, and means it completely.

  My temper rises inside me, hot and sharp. I want nothing more than to raise my hands and throw my new power at him just like I used it on the targets Eve hung for me. Fingers curling towards my palms, I lean forward, considering which part of him I should tear to shreds first.

  Just as I'm considering it, though, one of the other Fuckfaces finally breaks his silence and steps forward. It's not Mason who comes up and places a hand on Grayson's shoulder, though, but the impossibly large, broad, and muscular Wyatt.

  As his voice rumbles out of his deep chest, I realize with a start that this is the first time I've heard him speak. "Don't." He speaks the word deliberately and slowly, pausing before he adds, "Wait for tomorrow."

  Arching an eyebrow, Grayson asks, "What, are you afraid you'll be all alone in this place if I get expelled? Maybe you think the Shadow Fold will never accept you without your voice."

  Wyatt's mouth thins, and he puts enough pressure on Grayson's shoulder that even I can see it. "Wait."

  The word is simple, spoken slowly, his mouth turned down in a grimace. Part of me feels like it costs Wyatt to say it, as if he has to pull it out of his very soul. He may be an impossibly big, strong man, but I get the feeling there's more to him beneath the surface, if only he could say it aloud. Which is why it pisses me off so much that he's doing what his shitty friend tells him to do by coming here to intimidate me.

  Facing Grayson, I tell him simply, "I'll see you tomorrow."

  Then I raise my hand, palm up, and aim it just over his shoulder. It's easy to summon the power deep inside me—I've figured out that it grows with my rage. And just standing here in front of the Fuckfaces makes me angry.

  A wall of force leaves my hand, controlling and contained, whipping past Grayson's cheek and out into the darkness. In the distance, a tree trunk groans as the force hits it. There's a creaking sound. Levi, pushing his silver hair back, turns and watches curiously; Mason just watches me, while Wyatt keeps his attention on Grayson, who carefully glances over his shoulder.

  With a sound like thunder, the tree topples to one side, the top of its leafy canopy leaning up against the tree next to it. Smirking at Grayson, I wave at him with the tips of my fingers, heart beating extra fast as I wonder if I'll even feel his powers when he attacks.

  Looking up at Wyatt, Grayson says, "Tomorrow. Then she'll pay."

  I turn around and walk away without responding to that, even though I have a few choice words in mind. The truth is, my smart mouth has never gotten me far, and this is something I need to handle carefully.

  Eve's life is on the line, after all.

  The room is dark as I sneak back in, but I can feel her presence. She's awake; she knows that I ran away, or tried to. Hot shame gathers in my belly, but I shake it off. Of course I ran away from this crazy place. I'm human.

  Flipping on the light, Eve studies me. And sighs. "I guess I should've talked to you a bit more about this place before expecting you to just jump into everything feet first."

  "Probably." Approaching her, I take a deep breath. "But the more important thing is, you should've told me what you were doing when you vouched for me.
I wouldn't have let you risk your life for mine."

  "Ah." She frowns. "Who told you?"

  Together we say, "The Fuckfaces." Eve adds, "More specifically, I bet it was Grayson."

  "It was—he's the little ringleader of his group. What's up with that, anyway?"

  "Grayson has been here for four years. He's coming up on the end of the time he's allowed to remain a free agent—that's someone who's completed the core requirements for graduation but hasn't taken out a Mark yet. Apparently his missions have a history of going... wrong. The others are free agents too, though how Levi got there so fast so young, I'll never know. Each of them has tried claiming Marks, and they've always hit road bumps. So now they're working together to try to smooth things out."

  I raise my brows. "It takes four of them to kill one person?"

  "Getting your Mark for graduation isn't just about finding a kill. It's about finding someone who actively harms society, that the world would be better without. That's a high bar to prove. Usually people target serial killers, dictators, human traffickers—that sort of scum. But for some reason the bar has been higher for these four." Eve shrugs, then slashes a dismissive hand through the air. "Enough about them. I want to talk about you. What happened? Are you okay? Do you want... if you want to get out of here, I can help you. I shouldn't have brought you to the headmaster without making sure this was what you wanted. It's just, when you said the doors appeared to you, I thought for sure it was fate."

  Opening and closing my mouth, I tell her, "I'll stay. I want to put those Fuckfaces in their place—especially Grayson. But I need to know more about this place before I commit to studying to become an assassin. I mean, me? An organized killer who takes down bad guys? You can't tell me that's not a mistake."

  "Why not?" Her voice is soft. "You did it once before. And you have incredible power, Ellen. I haven't seen a Physical skill that strong from someone new in a long time."

  "Still. Killing dictators..." I shake my head. "That's not me."

  "It isn't?" She studies me, head cocked to the side. "So you're telling me that if a man not only put his hands on women, but also kept them enslaved, took away their rights, refused to protect them from evil, you wouldn't do anything? Because there are men out there who enslaved women. Hell, there are women who lure victims into traps and sell them, too. Jack Johnson wasn't the only piece of shit the world needed to get rid of. Someone needs to do it. Why not you?"

  Considering her words, I try to come up with a rebuttal. But the truth is that I can't. If I could be that person, the one standing between an evil piece of absolute shit and their next victim, and all it would take was a wave of my hand to end the threat... well, I can't say that I wouldn't want to train to do something like that.

  The only question is, "Do you think I have it in me?"

  "Ellen Arizona, you're the finest, craziest, deadliest killer I know." With a grin, she puts a hand on my shoulder and gently squeezes. "Cain University is exactly where you belong, especially now that I know you've got powers. Those boys won't know what hit them—and neither will the world outside those gates when you graduate. Show them what you've got, and they'll know what I know: you're the best thing to ever walk through those doors."

  The arena that my initiation is to be held in is beneath the courtyard, buried deep under the ground. It's accessible via four different staircases that appear under the four fountains in the courtyard, each of them representing one of the four Classes: Mental, Physical, Emotional, and Spiritual.

  Standing in the middle of the courtyard, wearing a white robe tied at the waist with a golden sash, Headmaster Shu observes me. She flicks her eyes to Eve, who stands at my elbow and explained this morning how all this would go down, over a cup of coffee that slid down my throat like bitter poison.

  "Did you explain to her how this would work?"

  "Yes." Eve nods sharply. "She's ready."

  "And has her Affinity been found?"

  "Physical Class, telekinesis."

  "Good."

  There's no one else in the courtyard with us; as Eve told me, all the other students and any teachers interested in watching are in the arena already, preparing to challenge me to a round of fighting if they wish. The initiation is meant to go until I prove myself, either by showing off my powers, defeating multiple challengers in battle, or simply outlasting with endurance. Eve claimed the longest initiation was over twenty-four hours long, but assured me that hers was much shorter. Apparently she went the clever way by using her powers to cloak herself, and slipped out of the grasp of multiple challengers. It took less than an hour for Headmaster Shu to call an end to the show and declare her ready to enroll.

  Somehow I doubt I'll be so lucky. I'll have to fight at least the four Fuckfaces, who will no doubt step forward to challenge me. When I asked Eve if anyone has ever failed the initiation after being called here by the doors, she made non-committal noises and refused to answer. The good news is, if I get it past this and officially enroll, I'll be able to go home on the weekends and take care of things—including saying goodbye to my mother forever. So even if Eve's life and my life weren't on the line, I'd be motivated to beat this thing just so I can lay her to rest and take care of her affairs.

  Damned doors, showing up when they want to and disappearing just when I need them.

  Headmaster Shu motions to the staircase beneath the Physical fountain, and I nervously head that way. Eve follows at my heels, the headmaster right behind me. The Physical fountain is a warrior with a broad, deadly sword held in his hand, muscles tense as if prepared to lop someone's head off at any moment, looking down at us with a harsh expression on his face. I feel unworthy as I pass beneath his shadow, and am grateful as I descend down into the earth and no longer feel his mute gaze.

  The stairs go on for what seems like forever, drawing us deep, surrounded by darkness. There's a pool of light at the bottom that grows larger the further down I go, my hand trailing the stone wall the entire time. It feels like this place, located beyond two magical doors and grand beyond imagination, was carved by the hand of a giant. When I asked Eve where in the world Cain University actually is, she simply told me it's beyond the doors the first trained killers built—and nothing else. For all I know we're somewhere halfway across the world, or maybe just beyond our own, in a plane of existence that lives right alongside ours.

  I just hope that wherever we are, they have bacon. Eve gave me nothing but a power bar for breakfast, and my stomach grumbled the whole time. I've barely eaten anything except her provisions since I got here, which are all health-conscious bullshit. If I survive this, I deserve something fatty and salty that sings on my tongue.

  As I get to the bottom of the stairs, the wide open space of the arena pools out in front of me. The staircase ends in an open archway set into smooth stone walls. Beyond is a half-circle stadium, open on this end—where all four staircases empty—and closed off on the other end.

  Stadium seats take up the wall opposite us, while to my left and right, racks of weapons stretch as far as the eye can see. Sabers, axes, bows and arrows, everything imaginable except guns—they're all here. Eve reassured me, though, that my initiation will be hand-to-hand and power-centered only; it's not until the first year of core requirements are passed that students have to face off against each other with weapons to prove their worth.

  The ground beneath my feet is hard-packed soil, and I wonder how much blood it's seen. In the center of the arena, fresh sand covers up any signs that students have died here, but it can't quite get the scent of blood out of the air. Iron and salt fill my nostrils with each breath in.

  Striding forward, Headmaster Shu stands in the center of the arena and faces the packed stadium seats, where students, teachers, and members of the Shadow Fold alike are gathered to watch me fight or fail. There are at least a few hundred of them by my estimate, enough to fill at least half the seats—and kill in every country across the world. Based on the array of features and clothing I see
among them, and the murmur of other languages, Eve was telling the truth when she said that students come to Cain University from all across the globe.

  Tugging at my elbow, Eve leads me to a spot beside the weapons racks at one end of the area, where a short, low bench waits for competitors to sit. Made of strong, sturdy wood, it smells like blood and bleach. According to Eve, most students who are initiated here are found on the other side of the doors by a mentor, and trained until they're ready to go through. I'll be the first in a long time to be summoned by the doors themselves—and come across without weeks of training to help me.

  Suddenly I don't feel so confident about my chances of survival.

  "Good morning, all." Headmaster Shu's voice somehow fills the entire arena. "We have a new initiate to test today: Ellen Arizona. I'm told she's quite infamous for her first, and only, kill. Let's see if she has what it takes to become one of us."

  That's it, the end of the speech. Walking to the end of the arena opposite me, she holds her hand up straight in the air, then lowers it swiftly as if chopping a block in half. Overhead, a bell I didn't even notice was there chimes, as if pushed by an invisible wind—and maybe it was.

  "Is that Headmaster Shu's power?" I ask Eve. "Can she control the wind?"

  "No one knows. She graduated so long ago, and had any records of her Affinity scrubbed. Anyone who has seen her power in action keeps it to themselves—and for good reason. She's got the highest kill rate of anyone in the Shadow Fold."

  "I wonder how many people my father killed." The thought is harrowing. "Are there records?"

 

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