Storm and Fury

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Storm and Fury Page 10

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  “What?” Jada demanded.

  “No.” The fine hairs on the nape of my neck stood up as I tipped forward, making us nearly as close as we’d been when we’d kissed. “I’m going to kick you into the fire pit if you don’t back up.”

  “Yeah.” He spoke directly into my ear, for only me to hear. “I’d like to see you try.”

  Every cell in my body demanded that I put as much space as humanly possible between us, because I was a second away from turning him into a Warden tiki torch. “Really? Because I’m happy to oblige.”

  Clay smirked.

  “I have a question for you,” I said. “You’ve watched Game of Thrones, right?”

  A flicker of confusion across his face was visible. “Yeah?”

  “Remember King Joffrey?” I smiled sweetly. “You remind me of him.”

  Jada sounded like she was dying beside me.

  The too-charming smile faltered. A long moment passed as Clay stared at me. “I get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “You.”

  I lifted my brows.

  “Is there a problem?” Misha was suddenly there, behind Clay. “Because I remember clearly the conversation you and I had.”

  “Yeah, I remember it.” Clay was grinning again as he pivoted. He eyed Misha and then patted him on the shoulder. “One of these days.”

  With that, Clay walked off, throwing his arms up and out as he threw back his head and let out a roar that was definitely not human.

  My gaze shifted to where Zayne and Dez were sitting. Both seemed to be looking over here, and my shoulders sagged. Of course they’d witnessed that.

  “He’s an ass,” Misha grumbled, watching Clay over his shoulder. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to talk to you.”

  “Okay, so what in the world happened?” Jada asked.

  I answered before Misha could, giving them a quick rundown minus the whole kicking him through the window. “So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked he would even speak to me.”

  Jada was glaring in Clay’s general direction. “And Thierry delayed his Accolade?”

  I nodded.

  “Good.”

  “That’s huge.” Ty leaned forward. “Don’t get me wrong. Clay deserved it and more. But as much as it pains me to admit this, he’s actually a really good Warden, skill-wise. He’s almost impossible to take down in class. He’s fast, and not just in his Warden form.”

  “Well, he brought it on himself.” Smothering another yawn, I handed my smoothie to Jada to finish off and rose. “I’m going to head back.”

  “Why?” Concern pinched her features. “Is it because of Clay? Because, seriously, don’t let him ruin your night.”

  “It’s not because of him. I’m actually pretty tired,” I said, telling the truth.

  Jada looked at me as if she wasn’t sure if I was telling the truth, but she dropped it.

  “Okay,” Misha said. “Just let me say goodbye to Alina—”

  “No. Stay.” I stretched up and patted his head, nimbly dancing out of the way of his hand as he swung at me. “I’m literally going back to the house. I don’t need you to walk me.”

  Misha hesitated.

  “I’ll text you when I get back, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said after a moment.

  I didn’t waste time, because if I did, Misha would change his mind and leave Alina sitting by the fire. Saying goodbye, I dipped around the couch and then glanced over my shoulder toward the fairy lights.

  Dez and Zayne were still there, and I quickly looked away.

  I started toward the house. It was a good thing Misha didn’t know about me running into Zayne yesterday.

  Or what I’d told Zayne.

  I was still smacking myself for that one, but if Misha knew about it, he’d be right here with me instead of hanging out with Alina and enjoying himself.

  I thought about what Clay had said to me as I followed the sidewalk back to the house. It had been...weird. I get it. What in the world had he meant? The thing was, he didn’t get it.

  Had Zayne heard Clay? I sighed. Probably. Not like that would be embarrassing or—

  “Hey.”

  My heart jumped in my chest at the sound of Zayne’s voice. It was like I’d conjured him from the shadows. I stopped and turned around, ignoring the way my pulse started pounding.

  “You didn’t try to hit me.” Zayne halted a few feet from me, under the soft glow of a streetlamp, hands in his pockets. “Turning over a new leaf?”

  “Ha. Ha,” I grumbled. “Maybe you just called out loud enough for me to hear this time.”

  “Maybe.” A small grin appeared. “So, what was going on back there?”

  I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I played dumb. “What do you mean?”

  “That guy,” he answered. “Yelling about you getting him a drink or something.”

  “You heard.” I sighed.

  “Confident the entire state of West Virginia heard him.”

  Shaking my head, I lifted my hands. “It was nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like nothing if you left immediately after that.”

  I lowered my hands. “Wow. You were really paying attention.”

  “I was.”

  Surprise stole my voice for a moment. “Why?”

  “Because I saw you over there, so I was paying attention.”

  “You didn’t even look at me until after Clay made an ass of himself.”

  That easy, teasing grin returned as he bit down on his lower lip. “So, you were also paying attention.”

  Warmth splashed across my cheeks. “No, I wasn’t.”

  He chuckled as he tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “And annoying?”

  “That, too.” He looked to his left and then back to me. “What’s the deal with that Clay guy?”

  “He’s just... He’s just a dickhead.” A breeze lifted the ends of my hair. A weird little shiver curled its way down my spine. The wind picked up, tossing my hair over my face. I took a step back. “I need to get home.”

  “I can walk you.”

  There was a voice that whispered yes, a voice driven by an almost desperate need for something more than passing attention, but that need was irresponsible and reckless and interesting.

  “I’m heading in that direction, anyway,” he said, nodding toward my house and the Great Hall beyond it. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Exhaling softly, I nodded. “Okay. Sure. Whatever floats your boat.”

  Zayne chuckled.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Then I revoke my acceptance of your offer.” I turned and started walking.

  Zayne easily caught up with me. “Nope. No take-backs.”

  I fought my grin and won.

  We walked in silence for a while and then Zayne asked, “What’s it been like, living here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have other Wardens acted like Clay, or are they nice to you?”

  I glanced at him. “Almost all of them have been accepting of me being here, if that’s what you mean. Clay is just... Well, he’s an ass, but I grew up with a lot of the younger ones. Even Clay.”

  “And you were schooled with them? What was that like?”

  “Okay, I guess. I learned about the Civil War in one class and the different species of demons in the next. Which means I probably had a more interesting educational experience than most humans,” I said. All communities were outfitted with their own schools. They of course were much smaller than many schools in the human world. One building housed K-12, and each class typically had no more than ten to fifteen students. “What about you? Did you grow up in one of the communities?”

  �
��I was born in one in Virginia, just outside Richmond, but I don’t remember any of it.”

  “You’ve always lived at one of the outposts, then?” I asked, referencing the locations where trained Wardens who patrolled and hunted demons lived.

  “Yep,” he answered. “And you’ve never lived anywhere but here and...New York?”

  I was surprised he remembered. “I came here when I was eight, with my mom.” We crossed the street, heading toward the smaller stone wall that separated the main house from the community. “It’s all I’ve known.”

  Zayne was quiet, and I stole a quick glance at him. He focused on the dimly lit path and then his chin tipped in my direction.

  I looked away, sucking in a shallow breath of the cool, pine-scented night air. “What was it like in the outpost?”

  “Nothing like this,” he answered. “I grew up surrounded by trained Wardens and not away from...well, everything. I spent as much time in the city as I did in the compound. It’s never this quiet there.”

  “I can imagine,” I murmured, but I really couldn’t. I didn’t remember much about living in New York State. We’d been in a suburb outside of Albany, never anyplace like Washington, DC, or New York City. “You were homeschooled?”

  “I was. My father brought in someone to handle my education, a human who wasn’t too freaked out being surrounded by Wardens.”

  “That had to be hard, being the only kid.”

  “I wasn’t the only kid,” he said, and my curiosity piqued. Before I could I question that, he said, “Can I ask you something?”

  “If I said no, you’d probably ask, anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t. Not if you meant it.”

  The genuineness in his voice brought my gaze to him. I actually...believed that. “What do you want to know?”

  “How old are you?”

  I lifted a brow. “I’m eighteen. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one,” he answered. “I’ll be twenty-two in a few months. September.”

  I folded my arms over my stomach as we rounded the stone wall and neared the house.

  “You’re eighteen and your mom is gone—and I’m really sorry about that.” He tacked on that last part quickly. “But why are you still here?”

  8

  Oh, damn, that was a hard question to answer, because I couldn’t be honest. By the time we reached the house, I still didn’t have a response. We stopped at the edge of the floodlight that shone down from the front porch.

  “Is it because you don’t have anywhere else to go?” he asked. “I don’t mean anything rude by that. I can imagine it would be hard growing up here and then going out there, into the world.”

  “But I want to go out there.” The moment I said it, I mentally cursed myself up and down the block. I really needed to get control of my mouth.

  Zayne angled his body toward me. “Then why don’t you?”

  “It’s not... It’s not that simple,” I admitted. “I mean, I don’t have anyplace to go. Like you said. It’s hard coming from this and going out there. The Board of Education now recognizes our diplomas, as do most colleges, but where would I get the money? Financial Aid would be tricky, because Wardens don’t qualify for it, and even though I’m not a Warden, my education suggests that I am. It would be a mess, and everyone here has better things to do than help me figure it out.”

  “Sounds like you’ve looked into it.”

  I had. A lot. And all the looking I had done was pointless, because college wasn’t in the cards for me. That wasn’t what I’d been...born for. After Mom had been killed, I’d researched colleges, figuring there was no reason that I shouldn’t be able to go to school and be ready for whenever I was summoned.

  But how would I pay for it? Ask Thierry and Matthew for the funds? They already provided everything for me. I couldn’t ask for that, too.

  “I have another question,” he said.

  “Okay,” I sighed, half-afraid of what this one would lead to.

  “What happened to the Warden who killed your mother?”

  The question was a jolt to the system, and I took a step away from Zayne. “I shouldn’t have told you about that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t like talking or thinking about it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he immediately said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Drawing in a shaky breath, I turned to head up the steps and then stopped, facing Zayne. “The Warden is dead. I wouldn’t have stayed here if he wasn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t imagine that you would’ve,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Trinity.”

  Air caught in my throat. There it was again. The way he said my name. A tight, hot shiver danced over my skin, and that shiver made me think of the yearning I’d seen on Misha’s face when he saw Alina. That shiver made me think of warm summer nights, of skin against skin.

  The heat inside me rose, rolling down my throat and over my chest, pushing down the bitter grief that always surrounded thoughts of my mother, and I knew it was time for me to go.

  And that’s what I did, without saying a word, without looking back.

  * * *

  The confused ghost was back again, pacing in the driveway outside the Great Hall, and it was far past time to talk to the poor guy and help move him on.

  “This makes me uncomfortable,” Misha muttered, trailing behind me as we walked along the paved path around the Great Hall.

  I grinned.

  Jada hated it when I dragged her along for these things, too. In all honesty, Misha should’ve been in the Great Hall for the Accolade along with everyone else, but as per usual, he was on Trinity Duty.

  “You can’t even see them, so I don’t get why it makes you so uncomfortable.”

  “I may not be able to see them, but I know they’re there.” Misha caught the edge of my shirt, pulling me to the side before I sideswiped a baby fir tree I hadn’t seen.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, stopping at the corner of the building. Night had fallen, and soft lights glowed from the entrance of the Great Hall.

  Ghost Dude had stopped by the hedges, arms up and hands tugging at his hair. My heart squeezed with sympathy.

  “What’s he doing?” Misha whispered.

  “Freaking out,” I told him. There was enough light from the building to see where I was going. I started to step out but stopped and looked up the wide steps.

  Muffled laughter and cheers floated from the hall, catching my attention. The Accolades were a good time. Dancing. Celebrating. Family. That was what it was like. Family.

  I glanced at Misha. He was also staring at the hall, and I wondered if he was thinking about Alina. “Is Alina at the Accolade?”

  “Yes,” he answered, and I realized it had been a dumb question. Any Warden of age who didn’t have a youngling to watch over was at the Accolade.

  He should be there, too. Not out here with me, creeping around in the darkness while I talked to ghosts.

  Nibbling on my thumbnail, I faced him. “Why don’t you go in and see what’s going on? After I move Ghost Dude along, I’ll join you.”

  Misha’s face was shadowed. “Why would I want to go in there without you?”

  “Because it’s better than being out here with me while I talk to ghosts.”

  “I rather be out here with you even with the whole ghost thing.”

  My lips twitched. “That’s a lie.”

  “Never,” he replied. “Besides, I can’t leave you alone when you’re talking to a ghost. If someone came out and saw you, they’d think—”

  “Something’s wrong with me?” I supplied.

  “I wasn’t going to suggest that. I was going to say they’d think it was odd and they’d start asking questions.”

  Turning back to Ghost Dude, I saw he was still by the hedges. I walked toward
the ghost, careful to stick close to the hedges. The ghost didn’t seem to hear my approach, and now that I was closer, I could see that his shirt was the gold and blue of the WVU Mountaineers. I could also see that something was wrong with it.

  The back of the shirt was torn and stained in a darker color. My heart gave a little jump, like it always did when I was this close to a ghost or spirit, no matter how many times I’d seen one.

  I cleared my throat. “Hi.”

  The ghost dissipated like smoke in the wind. My mouth dropped open. “How rude.”

  A moment later, he began to take shape again, this time facing me. His head and shoulders formed first and then the rest of him came into view, but his body from the waist down was transparent.

  “Holy crap,” I gasped, my eyes widening as I got a good look at the man as I heard Misha stop a few feet behind me.

  The ghost was young, maybe in his midtwenties, and his face was leached of all color. But that wasn’t what turned my stomach with a sharp twist of nausea. The front of his shirt was ripped open, as was the flesh beyond it, his stomach torn into ragged strips.

  I took a step back. I hadn’t been able to see all of that when I’d been on the roof. Perhaps I was wrong about the car accident.

  “You can see me?” the ghost asked, rushing toward me...and then through me.

  Strands of hair blew back from my face as an icy wind whipped through me. I shuddered and swallowed hard, hating that feeling.

  “Did he... Did he just walk through you?” Misha sounded sick.

  “Unfortunately.” I turned around and found the ghost staring down at himself. “Hey, let’s not do that again.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t understand how that happened.” Panic crept into the man’s voice as he stepped toward me again but stopped. “You can see and talk to me?”

  “I can.” I glanced down and saw that his legs had solidified. “What is your name?”

  “Wayne—Wayne Cohen. Can you help me? I can’t seem to find my way home.”

  Oh God.

  I started nibbling on my fingernail again as my gaze slid southward. He had to know he was dead. “I can help you, Wayne, and I can help you go home, but it’s not the home you’re thinking of.”

 

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