Nightingale (The Sensitives)

by Dawn Rae Miller

  “I think so.” Our voices are barely more than a series of soft breaths.

  My uncle cups his hand over his mouth and his eyes cloud over. Neither of us speak. Outside Eloise’s room, a healer hurries past, the patter of their shoes taps out the passing seconds.

  Finally, Henry bites his lip and turns his attention to me. “I never thought I’d say this, but you need to stay away from him.”

  #

  I don’t take Henry’s advice.

  #

  Like a wild animal, I pace outside Kyra’s darkened home.

  Beck’s in there. Sleeping. Most likely hidden away in the body of a man twice his age.

  I could walk up to the door and ring the buzzer. He’d have to answer. It’s his job.

  Mist swirls around me, dampening my hair. I curl my fingers around the metal gate. It anchors me in place.

  A soft rustling draws my attention away from the house and to a spot just down the concrete walkway that runs along the side. Three distinct shadows move toward the back of the house. I slouch down against the gate, pressing myself deeper into the dark recesses.

  Their voices carry to me. Soft, half-hidden whispers, but still loud enough for me to recognize them. Maz, Ryker…and Beck.

  I claw at my chest, trying to keep my wild heart under control.

  He’s so close.

  Lark?

  I jerk my body upright.

  Beck runs down the walkway. Or more correctly, Tom. Ryker throws himself before him, acting as a barricade between us.

  “Oh God.” Maz stands off to the side. He stares at me with wide eyes. “She can’t be here. If Kyra finds out, we are screwed.”

  Beck/Tom stiffens and draws a sharp breath. “You have to go, Lark.”

  I tangle my hands in the ends of my hair and tug at it until my scalp aches. “Why are you doing this to me? I thought you were dead!”

  Ryker creeps closer to me, his hands up. “Shhh…it’s going to be okay. Just let me get you home.”

  He lunges for me and before I realize what he’s doing, he grabs my arms and forces them to my side. Something cold and hard wraps around my wrist.

  “You’re restraining me?” I cry. “Why? What have I done? He’s the one that came here for me.” Beck keeps his eyes turned down. “Look at me!”

  His middle-aged body trembles.

  “I’m here. Don’t you still want me?” My throat constricts, making my words sound scratchy and hoarse. “Don’t you want to be with me? We could leave. Get away from all of this.”

  Maz drapes his arm around Beck and whispers something to him. Spots flash before my eyes and I lean on Ryker for support.

  “I’m taking you home.” Ryker’s voice is in my ear. His arms are around me. His body is pressed to mine.

  But the boy I love stands mere feet away. And he’s turning his back on me.

  “Come back,” I sob. “Please, Beck. Please. Come back to me.”

  I double forward, breaking out of Ryker’s grasp. Concrete scrapes my bare knees. When I lift my head, Beck and Maz are gone.

  Ryker kneels over me. He pulls me to his chest and cradles my head beneath his chin. His hands stroke my back in even, steady circles.

  My chin crumples and sobs wrack my body.

  But my heart, it hums.

  20

  Beck hates me.

  “Miss Greene, please stand still. I won’t be able to get an accurate fit if you continue to squirm.” The seamstress looks up at me, exasperated.

  I can’t stop rocking. My hands are wrapped around my waist.

  Who do you think brought him to Maz’s? Ryker asked when I accused him of trying to hurt Beck. I’m protecting him. Just like I’m protecting you.

  Protecting him from whom? I whispered, knowing the answer.

  You.

  I’m the threat. Not Eamon. Not the Dark witches. Me. And Beck knows it.

  My teeth chatter together when I take a long, deep breath.

  For the past four hours, I’ve been shoved into a series of dresses, each one more complicated than the last with intricate lacing, buttons and ball gown skirts. I’ve been forced to stand on a platform while Mother, Annalise, and Kyra debate the merits of each.

  I hate them all. The dresses, I mean. I only mildly hate my family and friend for putting me through this.

  The stiff dress I’m currently bundled into constricts my breathing, and in order to turn, I have to hold my torso perfectly upright and move my entire body at once. It’s ridiculous.

  The seamstress grunts and raises from her position on the floor. Her eyes flick to the door, as if she can’t wait to run from the room. Even though she keeps her voice cheerful, her stiff posture gives away her true feelings: she’s afraid of us. “Ms. Greene,” she says, addressing my mother because that’s whose opinion matters. Not mine. “Is it to your liking?”

  Kyra claps and immediately begins fawning over me. “You look amazing! Ryker won’t be able to keep his eyes off you!”

  “Turn around and look at yourself. You look stunning.” Annalise gently guides me around so I’m staring at a reflection of a girl who looks somewhat like me. Her hair’s been pulled up loosely and strands fall randomly out of place. Her skin is ashen and dark circles surround her eyes.

  I haven’t slept in two days.

  I blink my eyes hard, but tears still splatter the front of the strapless emerald green dress. Mother lifts the full skirt and shoves bejeweled shoes on my feet.

  “Are we done? I’d like to leave,” I say flatly.

  “Stop crying, it’s unbecoming.” Mother smacks her lips in disappointment. I think she really wants me to be excited. But how can she be so delusional as to believe I’d be enthusiastic about binding with someone other than Beck? She has to know this is a terrible idea.

  “Help Lark out of the dress,” she says to the seamstress. “And be careful, we’re purchasing that one.”

  “Yes ma’am.” The seamstress begins undoing the intricate back laces. As the corset loosens, air rushes back into my lungs.

  “Annalise, see to the payment. I have to get back to work.” Mother gathers up her belongings without giving me another glance.

  The seamstress gently lowers the gown and I step out of it. Kyra hands me my day dress. Not even her generally sunny personality can lift the feeling of misery and gloom hanging over the room.

  My sister-in-law pinches her lips together. “Malin is under a lot of stress. And you are not making things easy for her.”

  I fasten the buttons of my dress. “She’s the Vice-Head. She’s always under stress.”

  “Leave us,” Annalise orders and the seamstress scurries from the room.

  “There are bigger problems in this world than a teenager acting like a brat because she doesn’t want to be bound. It happens every day. Get over it.” Annalise’s words drip with anger, but she doesn’t raise her voice.

  I bend to tug my leather boots over the thick tights I left on during the fitting. There are so many things I want to say right now, but every one of them would land me in more trouble. So I ignore her.

  “It’s just nerves. Remember how I was before my ceremony?” Kyra wraps a scarf around her neck. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “Everything is going to be fine? I’m bound to Beck. I’m going to kill him. In what strange world is that anything but awful?”

  My friend stares at me slacked jaw.

  “Stop it. Both of you.” Annalise tosses my coat at me and it falls to the ground. “None of this matters. Lark will be bound to Ryker tomorrow and the State will display its strength. We will send a message that all is well.” She glares at me. “And you will do your part. Unless you want to be responsible for the collapse of everything we’ve been fighting so hard to protect.”

  And there it is. The truth. My binding is nothing more than a political ploy. I knew it, but hearing Annalise admit it out loud upsets me. “The world will not fall apart if I don’t have a ma
te.”

  Annalise cocks her head. “The attack on your friend and Henry wasn’t random. The Splinter group has severed all connections with the Light witches. No one has jurisdiction over them anymore.” She lowers her voice. “We have it on good authority they plan to battle us for control of the State.”

  Kyra fidgets with her handbag, clearly uncomfortable. “Annalise,” she says. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk about this right now. I’m not supposed to know.”

  Annalise glares at her. “You both need to know. There’s a war coming. That’s a fact.”

  We cease talking when we enter the storefront. The saleswoman smiles at us eagerly and calls out a cheery farewell. We ignore her and exit the building.

  “Then why are we having this silly binding? There are more important things to tend to,” I say, partly in truth and partly in desperation.

  Annalise stops walking. “Whether it’s real or not, you will be bound because the people of this Society have to believe you and your family are just like them. If the Splinter group does what we anticipate, they’re going after you and Malin first, and we need the people of our Society to support you.”

  She pauses. “And die for you, if necessary.”

  My insides roll. How many of these people are going to die by my own hand?

  We walk from the shop to the Presidio gate. Since the attack, Mother has ordered me to walk as much as possible to give people the chance to see me.

  We stop just inside the gate, out of sight.

  “I need to head back to the State offices. The two of you go directly home.” Annalise regards us coolly, as if she expects us to openly defy her.

  A cool breeze whips up over the hills of the Presidio. I inhale deeply, enjoying the earthy, spring smell. In the nearby bushes, birds scurry about.

  “I’d like to walk.”

  Annalise purses her lips. We’re standing inside the clear barrier the State claims protects students from Sensitive attacks. A trail skirts alongside it, leading back toward the south entrance where Mother’s house is located. It’s an area I know well because Beck and I used to play here as children.

  I stare blankly at the Bay while Kyra and Annalise discuss the issue.

  “I’m sending Oliver when he’s finished with an errand,” Annalise says sharply. “In the meantime, stay vigilant, Kyra. Is that understood?”

  “Of course.”

  Annalise darts her eyes between the two of us. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

  I don’t need to be told twice and hurry up the dirt trail. When I glance over my shoulder, Annalise is gone and Kyra is a few feet behind me. I pause to wait for her to catch up.

  “I’m on probation after the whole night-club-freeing-of–the-Sensitives thing, by the way.”

  My stomach knots. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” I had hoped, with the agreement I made with Mother, that Kyra wouldn’t be punished. So much for that.

  She shrugs. “They waited until today to tell me. It’s not too bad. I have to work extra shifts, which means I spend more time with you.” She wrinkles her nose playfully. “And the monitoring of my wristlet has increased. Basically…” She starts walking. “I’m under constant observation.”

  “I know how that feels,” I mumble.

  “The best part?” she asks sarcastically. “I have to keep your human pet until Malin agrees to give her to you.” We walk along an old, well-traveled dirt path. “That’s a little bit unfair if you ask me.”

  Leave it to Kyra to turn my attempt at solitude into the Kyra Show. All I wanted was some time alone. To reflect on what’s happening. And instead I get Kyra acting bratty because she can’t use magic at home.

  At the fork, I veer sharply to the left and begin climbing the hill. Kyra can’t keep up with me and I don’t bother to wait for her.

  “Are you nervous about tomorrow? Maz says Ryker is looking forward to it,” she shouts from the bottom of the incline.

  My foot hovers above the ground. I step forward and slowly pivot so that I’m staring down at her. “Are you serious? Maz actually said that? He’s such a liar.”

  Before I can blink, Kyra transports next to me. Her hand is clamped over her wristlet. “What did I just tell you?” she whispers as she covers mine with her other hand. “We’re both under constant monitoring.”

  I should be more discreet. The wristlets are always there and sometimes I forget.

  I should never forget.

  We enter the last standing grove of redwood trees in the Presidio. It occurs to me, for the first time, that these should have died off years ago, like the rest of them. Redwoods can’t survive in this climate. Perhaps someone is using magic to keep them alive.

  I run my hand over the rough bark. This grove must be hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. The world has changed so much around it and yet it keeps growing, stretching for the sun. Surviving.

  A twig snaps just beyond the tree line and Kyra throws her arm in front of me. Even though I pull up short, I still collide with her. My senses go into overdrive as Kyra places her finger against her lips, signaling me to stay silent. Her body is tense, prepared for a fight.

  “Someone’s on the other side of the grove,” she whispers. “It could be Oliver, but my wristlet isn’t picking him up.”

  The memory of Beck and I trapped by Sensitives flashes through my mind. The situation is too eerily similar. Like that day with Beck, Kyra and I are alone in the Presidio.

  Me and my stupid ideas.

  “Kyra,” I say, pointing toward the trees. She spins around, hands raised, and I copy her movements.

  My pulse hammers in my ears. If we’re caught by the Splinter group, we won’t stand a chance. Not even with Mother and Dawson’s intensive lessons. I saw what they did to Eloise and Henry. And they had Beck, who’s stronger and more experienced than me.

  “Halt!” Kyra shouts, as a flash of light cracks into a tree twenty feet away from us. The tree groans and sways. I watch in horror as it topples onto the one nearest it.

  “Kyra, it’s just me,” Ryker yells from behind us. “And Lena.” Before me, a terrified Lena emerges from behind the tree. Her eyes are wide with fright and she’s shaking.

  “Lena?” Kyra says to our former housemate.

  My mouth drops open. Surely Ryker didn’t know I was here. Or he wouldn’t be so cavalier about being alone in the trees with another girl.

  “How did you do that?” Lena stammers.

  Kyra opens her mouth but nothing comes out, so I say, “She has a special wristlet. It’s standard guard issue.”

  “Oh.”

  “What the hell, Kyra? You could have hurt us!” Ryker jogs up between us. “What are you two doing out here anyway? Where are the rest of Lark’s guards?”

  Kyra balls her hands into fists and shoves Ryker’s chest so hard he stumbles backward. “Lark is a free States woman. She can come and go as she wishes.” Kyra gives Ryker a dirty look. “What are you doing out here? With Lena? That’s what I want to know.”

  She turns her fury toward Lena. “And you! You know he’s promised to Lark.” Anger ripples off Kyra and floods into me. I breathe deeply, exhaling as Mother taught me and let small batches of energy discharge slowly. Nothing that will draw attention. This is how I’m to control myself.

  Lena whips her long, golden hair over her shoulder. “Don’t act so innocent, Kyra. You behaved the same with Maz.”

  The four of us stare at each other in silence until Kyra says, “I always knew Maz belonged to me. Ryker is Lark’s mate. Not yours.” Her anger ripples through the air in tiny pulses. “You’re bound to whatever-his-name is.”

  “Timothy.” Lena rolls her eyes and draws her wrap tighter across her shoulders.

  Ryker moves closer to Lena. I wiggle my fingers, trying to get my magic under control.

  “You.” I point a finger at him. “You keep me from the one person I love. And then you do this?”

  Kyra pivots toward me. “What are you talki
ng about?”

  I shove her out of the way and stomp over to Ryker. He tightens his grip around Lena’s waist. Heat rushes across my face. “You can’t do this to me.”

  Ryker says, “Go home, Lena.” My former housemate frowns before turning and running up the path. When she’s a decent distance away, Ryker grabs me by the upper arm. “Think before you speak, Lark.”

  Kyra shoves herself between the two of us. “Take your hands off of her.”

  His fingers uncurl and I take a step back.

  The inside of my cheek bleeds, but it doesn’t stop the fury building in me. How dare Ryker keep me from Beck and then run around with Lena.

  “I have to go,” Ryker says as he turns to leave.

  Kyra wiggles her fingers at him. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  Before I can stop her, she throws magic at Ryker and he falls to his knees in pain.

  “Holy hell, Kyra!” he pants and grabs at his temples.

  I laugh. “Serves you right.”

  “What…what did you do to him?” My head snaps to the left. Lena’s pressed herself against the rough bark of the tree. Her whole body shakes and even without her saying it, I know what she’s thinking: Sensitives.

  Kyra and I glance at each other. How do the two of us keep digging ourselves into deeper holes?

  “I’ll take care of it,” I say as I take short, measured steps toward Lena. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but my mind reaches out to hers, and while I can’t hear her thoughts, I can sense her energy. Mother told me the first step in persuasion is finding the other person’s energy. The second step is to implant your desires in them. But making someone forget actual events is very different than convincing them to do something for you.

  Air rushes out of my lungs and the words tumble from my lips. “You didn’t see anything here. In fact, you never saw any of us.”

  Lena’s fear surges through me and I draw it into my core, enjoying the way it pulses in rhythm with my heart.

  Behind me, I hear Kyra say, “You better hope this works.”

  “I’m not the idiot who used magic in front of a human,” I snap.