Storm and Fury

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

I looked over at him, frowning.

  He lifted a brow. “It’s the human thing. We can easily sense that.”

  “And honestly that’s not a big deal, right? I’m not stupid. It’s not like I’m going to walk up to one of them and be like, Hey, nice to meet you, I’m a walking, breathing myth. Want the 411?”

  “The 411?”

  I sighed. Peanut would be so disappointed. “Never mind.”

  Crossing his arms, he tilted his head to the side. “Actually, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Shut up.”

  He smirked.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You going to get on with it?”

  I refocused on the dummy. Taking one step forward, I angled my body slightly and then let the dagger fly.

  It struck true, hitting the dummy in the center of the chest, sinking to the handle. Lowering my hand, I exhaled and glanced at Misha.

  He was staring at the dummy. “I still don’t understand how you do that.”

  I gave him my best cheeky grin. “I’m a special snowflake, unique and beautiful.”

  He snorted. “You’re something.”

  Truth was, I was this good only because I had to practice and train harder than anyone else. I had to focus harder to compensate. I was this good because I couldn’t let my failing eyes be a hindrance. At least not yet, not until they became too much to overcome, and even then, I would have to adapt.

  And that meant training even harder.

  Being able to use the daggers was important, just like knowing how to fight, and that wasn’t just so I knew how to defend myself.

  It was so I could stop myself.

  What I’d done to the Ravers was not even a glimpse of what I was capable of if I didn’t control myself.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that Thierry ordered the DC clan to stay for the Accolade?” I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

  Misha didn’t answer, but he frowned.

  “I mean, since when did any of the clans come for it, even when they knew they were getting some of the new warriors?” I pointed out. “It’s never happened before.”

  “What are you getting at?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, really. It’s just weird. They don’t want to stay.” I shrugged. “And there’s really no reason for them to be here.”

  He stared at me a long moment. “I think if you spend more than an hour in your bedroom a day, your brain starts to go to really weird places. Were you watching the ID channel again?”

  “Whatever.” I grinned. “I was watching Fresh Prince.”

  Misha crossed the room and gripped the handle of the dagger. It made this gross sucking noise as he pulled it out. “Again?”

  I nodded, and he walked it back to me. Taking the dagger, I glanced over to where he stood. “You said you knew of Zayne and that he’s bad dude. What did you hear about him?”

  His head cocked. “Why are you asking?”

  “Because I’m nosy,” I replied, which was one hundred percent true.

  Misha folded his arms over his chest. “His clan isn’t exactly a fan of his. They don’t trust him.”

  That was weird, considering the fact that his clan leader had brought him here with them. “Where are you hearing this stuff? Some kind of Warden message board?”

  He snickered. “Yeah, exactly that. I knew one of the Wardens who was sent to his clan to help last year. He told me some stuff about him.”

  I stared down at the dagger, knowing that if I kept pestering him about Zayne, he would become suspicious. Misha knew me all too well. I trusted him with my life, but I had to wonder if his warning wasn’t based in fact but rather due to some kind of brotherly love? Like no guy was good enough sort of thing. But I had only spoken to Zayne once, and it hadn’t exactly been a love match. More like a hate match. I glanced at Misha again.

  His gaze was swiveling to the door and back. I didn’t have to look or see to know who was watching us. As he grew closer, the centers of his cheeks began to turn a faint pink.

  “You’re blushing.” I grinned.

  “Shut up,” he grumbled, standing with his back to the door. Only a moment passed before he looked over his shoulder.

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. “I think Alina likes you,” I said, referencing the pretty dark-skinned female Warden who was definitely watching from the doorway.

  Misha looked at me sharply.

  “And I think you like Alina.”

  “Trin...” he began.

  I thought about what he’d said to me last night. His life was irrevocably tied to mine. He hadn’t said those words, but that was what they meant, and that wasn’t fair. He was only a few months older than me, and like me, he’d carried a responsibility that few adults had. “You should go talk to her.”

  His eyes widened slightly at the prospect, as if it never occurred to him that he should speak to her. Then his expression locked down, devoid of any emotion. “I’m working.”

  “No, you’re not.” I laughed. “We’re done training, for the most part, and I don’t need you here to work with the daggers. Not like you can teach me anything when it comes to them. I’m like a million times better than you are.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You shouldn’t be—”

  “I can be alone. I’m in no danger here.”

  “Safety anywhere isn’t something we can be too sure of.”

  I ignored the way my skin chilled. “I’m fine. I’m just going to work with the blades for a little bit longer and then I’m going to head back to the house, see what Jada is up to. I don’t need you acting as my Protector every waking second of the day—”

  “That’s not only what I do.”

  My gaze flew to his as the corners of my lips turned down as I lowered the blade. “Actually, isn’t that exactly what you do?”

  A moment passed as he held my gaze. “I meant I’m also your friend and not just your Protector.”

  “Okay.” I stared at him, thinking he was being weird. “You’re my friend, too, and I’m telling you, as your friend, that you should go talk to Alina.”

  He looked over his shoulder again, and I saw it flicker across of his face. Yearning. It was brief, but there was no mistaking it. I knew what it looked like.

  I knew what it felt like.

  That was what had led me to Clay’s place. Too bad that had ended with him landing in a rosebush, but sometimes I was so bursting with yearning I couldn’t take it.

  “Look, you following me around like a shadow with our visitors here looks way more suspicious than I think you or Thierry realize.” I shrugged. “Go talk to her. Take her to get a coffee or a smoothie or something. I’ll text you later.”

  For a long moment I didn’t think Misha was going to do it, but then his chest rose with a deep breath and he faced me. “How long are you going to be here?”

  “No more than half an hour. Then I’m going back to the house.”

  “You’re really going back to the house?”

  I sighed. “Yes.”

  Misha seemed to have made up his mind. He nodded. “Okay. Text me later.”

  “Will do.” I bit down on my lip and grinned. “Tell her she looks pretty today and actually listen to her when she talks.”

  “Shut up.” He started to turn.

  “And don’t stare at her—”

  “I know how to act around a girl.”

  “Do you?”

  He looked like he was a second from throttling me, so I laughed. He shook his head as he turned around, and I watched him walk toward the doors, where Alina was standing. I waited until their shapes disappeared into the hall, then I walked to the small table against the wall. Lying on a leather satchel was the second iron dagger.

  I picked it up, wondering just how long Misha would stay wit
h Alina before he came running back to his duty.

  I’m also your friend.

  I didn’t think he was lying, and neither had I been when I told him he was my friend. He was my friend, one of my very best friends, as was Jada and even Ty. So was Peanut. He was a ghost, but he still counted. Other than them? I wasn’t close to anyone in the community.

  I’d thought that Clay would be different. Not that he was madly in love or even in lust with me, but I’d thought he... He could’ve been something.

  And that would be better than nothing.

  I shoved away that thought, like I did whenever I thought too much about my future.

  While the others accepted me, some were weary of a human in their midst. Some flat out ignored me. It was hard getting close to someone when they didn’t know the truth about me.

  And there were others who looked at me like I didn’t deserve to be among them, to reap the fruit of their sacrifices. I knew enough about the world outside these walls to know that our communities were virtually utopias in comparison, completely self-sustaining with little of the issues faced by the world outside.

  It was also hard to wonder whether Misha would be my friend if he hadn’t been bonded to me. And even harder to wonder if Jada would be if it weren’t for her uncle taking my mother and me in.

  There were days and moments, like right now, when I felt utterly alone. But then I also felt silly feeling that way, because I did have friends—friends who were like family—better than most families. I loved Misha and Jada, but I missed my mom, and I...

  I wanted more.

  I wanted the yearning that had crossed over Misha’s face when he saw Alina waiting for him at the door. I wanted the passion Jada and Ty shared. I wanted the love I saw in the looks Thierry and Matthew shared, in the words they often whispered to each other in hushed voices.

  I wanted it all.

  And I would get none of it here.

  Feeling heavy, I walked back to where I’d been standing before and faced the dummy. I stared down at the daggers for what felt like a short eternity, telling myself there was no point in dwelling over hypotheticals or ruminating over what couldn’t be changed.

  I had a choice.

  I could stay here. That would be the smart choice. I would be safe, and Thierry and my friends wouldn’t have to worry about me. Or I could leave, and I could... I could live life, even if living meant looking over my shoulder every hour. But Misha and I would still be bonded. He’d be able to find me wherever I went, sensing me if he got within a handful of miles. And if something happened to me, it would happen to him. It wasn’t fair to put him in danger by running off.

  A tremor coursed down my arm. I knew what I needed to do. I knew what I wanted to do. And there was little room in this life for things that were wanted.

  I drew in a breath, held it and then let the dagger fly. The satisfying thunk happened no more than a second later and pulled a faint grin from me. Switching the second blade to my right hand, I threw that blade and it sank deep, right below the other. Exhaling hard, I let my hand fall—

  Several claps startled me, drawing my gaze to the doorway. It was empty. My gaze shifted to the right.

  Oh crap.

  It was him.

  Zayne.

  6

  Leaning against the wall by the door, ankles crossed, Zayne was too far away for me to make out his expression. He was dressed a lot like he’d been the night before. Black henley paired with dark jeans, a startling contrast to his golden skin and hair.

  “You’re really good at that,” he said, crossing his arms. “And I find myself thoroughly grateful that you did not have those daggers with you last night.”

  “Thanks,” I said, heart thumping heavily as I glanced around the otherwise empty room and then back to him. “How long have you’ve been standing there?”

  “Long enough to wonder if you were trying to memorize every centimeter of the blade before you threw it.”

  My cheeks heated. Great. “Do you normally watch people without alerting them to your presence?”

  “I figured you saw me,” he said, and I guessed that was true. He would figure that. “I wasn’t exactly hiding behind a curtain or something.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You could’ve said hi instead of watching me in silence.”

  “Well, the last time I tried to alert you to my presence, you tried to kill me.”

  My brows lifted. “I did not try to kill you.”

  “Not how it felt from my perspective.”

  “Then your perspective leans toward the overdramatic.”

  “You’re hard to talk to,” Zayne said after a moment.

  Offended, I glared at him. “No, I’m not.”

  “Okay, let me rephrase that. You’re argumentative.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Zayne stared at me, as if me arguing with him just then was proof enough of what he claimed.

  It was sort of proof of what he claimed, and that irritated me. “Why are you here?”

  “Like on Earth, at this place, at this right moment and exact time—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” I cut him off, and I swore I heard a smile in his voice. Was he...teasing me? “Why are you in this room, watching me?”

  “You make it sound like I’m stalking you.”

  “You said it, not me.”

  He pushed off the wall but didn’t come forward. “I’m sort of surprised to find you in here,” he said, instead of answering why he was here.

  “Why is that?” I started toward the dummy to retrieve the daggers. “Because I’m human?”

  “Yeah, well, yes.” There was a pause. “There are a lot of Wardens who can’t hit a target as well as you just did.”

  I couldn’t help it. That little compliment, intended or not, brought a smile to my face and a surge of pride.

  “You really are trained, aren’t you? That’s why you reacted the way you did last night.”

  Stopping in front of the dummy, I pulled the first blade out. “I have some training.” Out came the next blade, and I turned around. He wasn’t by the wall anymore. He was in the center of the room. I drew in a shallow breath. Earlier I had told myself I needed to apologize to him, and now was a better time than ever I’d supposed. “About last night? I...think I owe you an apology.”

  “You think?”

  “Well, I know I do.”

  He moved closer, and I saw that his hair was down, brushing the strong line of his jaw. “Really?” He sounded surprised, which was messed up since he didn’t know me. “You’re going to apologize?”

  I walked toward him, shifting the blades to one hand, and as I drew closer, the striking details of his face became clearer. I sort of wished they’d stayed blurry. I dropped my gaze to his throat.

  It was a nice throat.

  Thinking his throat was nice was really weird.

  “Now I feel like I shouldn’t, because you’re irritating me again.”

  “Don’t let that get in the way.”

  “It’s already in the way,” I replied dryly. “But I...I overreacted. You didn’t grab me.” When I lifted my gaze to his, he was staring back at me, and I was finally close enough to see his eyes. They were... They were the palest shade of blue framed by the thickest lashes I’d ever seen on a guy. The color was odd, because all Wardens had bright blue eyes, but his were wolf eyes, cool as winter frost. Curiosity piqued.

  I cleared my throat. “So, that was...wrong of me and stuff.”

  “And stuff?” A grin played over his full lips. “I accept your apology.”

  “Good.” I shifted my gaze over his shoulder. If Misha returned and found Zayne here, he would have a minor stroke and never leave my side again.

  “Actually, I was looking for you.”

  Surprise flickered through m
e and I took a small step back. The grin faded from his lips. “Why?”

  “Because we got off on the wrong foot,” he explained. “I’m a guest here, and usually I’m more...amicable than I was last night.”

  Some of the tension seeped out of my shoulders. “Well, I did swing at you, and that kind of set the tone.”

  “It did, but it was mostly on me. I was just so surprised to see a human at the regional seat.” Thick lashes lowered, shielding those strange eyes. “May I?”

  It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the daggers. “Sure.”

  His fingers brushed mine as he took one, causing that strange little jolt to travel up my arm. A sense of...familiarity swept over me, a feeling of rightness, of many moving pieces finally clicking into place.

  I jerked my hand back.

  I lifted my gaze to his and sucked in a sharp breath.

  His eyes were wide, and his head was cocked slightly, like... Like he felt something he didn’t understand.

  Or he could just be looking at me because I was acting bizarrely.

  Probably that.

  Zayne cleared his throat. The dagger was so much smaller in his hand. “I didn’t say anything to the Duke about you being in the Great Hall last night.”

  “Thanks.” I watched him turn and walk toward where I’d been standing when I threw the blade. “Misha did, anyway, so...”

  “The guy who was with you last night?” Zayne glanced over his shoulder. “He seems...uptight.”

  I snickered at that as I moved out of the path of the dummy. “It’s kind of his job.”

  Facing the dummy, Zayne looked over at me. “His job is being uptight?”

  Hell.

  Why did I say that? I wanted to punch myself. “I meant, it’s more like his personality. He meant no harm by it.”

  Except Misha did mean harm by it. He’d said Zayne was a bad guy, but Zayne really didn’t need to know that.

  Zayne stared down at the dagger, looking like he wanted to say something but was refraining.

  “Are you going to throw it?” I asked.

  Sending me a grin, he lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I just like holding it?”

  My lips twitched. “Maybe.” I thought about what I’d overheard last night. This was my chance to find out what the heck was going on. “Can I ask you something?”