by Ella James
“Yes she is…”
Dizzy held one of the daggers in front of her and backed away. Seeing the thing reminded Julia of her own stabbing. She was a little surprised to look down and find herself intact. A loud shout made her head snap up.
“It’s not my fault,” Dizzy insisted, no trace of her usual maniacal confidence. “It was Julia that did it! Go get her!”
She sent out what felt like an actual wave of dizziness and tried to run, but Anise caught her arm. There was a struggle during which Dizzy screamed “Get off me!” and then she was down, and Julia watched as Anise, Carlin, Monte, Charles, and Drew stabbed her. All of them, over and over again until her blood was everywhere and she was limp, just like Marilee.
Chapter 15
Herbert rushed in some time later, and that was the worst. It took four Bishops to pull him from his sister, and after guiding Herbert to the infirmary, the Bishops made everyone go out into the hall, leaving the Candidates in a huddled mass under the glowing stone ceiling.
Bishops whisked in and out of the room—middle aged men and women in vest-trouser combos and dresses and tense, angry expressions—but none approached the Candidates. Meredith had her arms around Julia and was crying on her hair. Julia felt numb—with shock and fear that Dizzy was right…it had been her; she’d used that wild, explosive power again, and last time…
She shut the thought out and found herself picturing Cayne’s face, his voice, his soothing hands. This was Dizzy’s fault. Isn’t that what Cayne would tell her? She could almost hear him telling her not to blame herself. She’d focused her energy on Dizzy, so why would it have hurt Marilee? How could little Marilee be dead?
She was struggling to hold back tears when Nathan appeared a few minutes later. Before he even stopped walking, Drew lunged out and swung at him, catching his jaw with a loud pop. Nathan stumbled back, wide-eyed and clutching his face. “What the hell?”
“You tell me!” Drew snapped. “Where were you?”
“In a meeting!” Nathan roared. “What’s going on here!”
“You don’t even know?” Drew was in Nathan’s face, and Julia thought they were going to get into a fist-fight (her money would have been on Nathan, but she would have pulled for Drew) before Monte stepped between them.
“Monte, please explain to me why Andrew—”
“Marilee’s dead!” Drew spat. “Fucking dead.”
And then he jerked his arm from Monte and stormed down the hall.
“It was Dizzy,” Monte said. “You should have been here.” And then he brushed by Nathan. The other Candidates followed. Nathan stared after them, mouth open slightly, face twisted. He turned to Meredith and Julia, his eyes using Mer’s face as an anchor.
“It’s true?”
Meredith was just staring, so Julia nodded, and Nathan brought a fist to his pale face. “Marilee? How?”
A little cry slipped from Meredith, and Julia said, “Dizzy.”
If possible, Nathan’s face blanched further. “What did she do?”
“She scrambled our heads. She was making us fight each other.”
“Marilee went down to her knees.” Meredith’s voice broke. “She just…never got up.”
“How could this—”
“How do you think?” Julia demanded, suddenly furious. “Dizzy’s f-ing crazy. I told you she was!”
Looking wounded, Nathan shook his head.
“Where were you?” Meredith asked sharply.
“I— I had a meeting.” His hands were held out, defensive.
“What kind?”
Nathan glanced at Julia, then to Meredith. “I…I can’t say.”
“Are you joking right now?” Meredith shook her head, her face a furious mess. “Come on Julia.”
“I’ll catch up.” Meredith hesitated, then said, “Fine,” and darted off. Nathan opened his mouth, but Meredith breezed by him before he could say anything.
His eyes were wide. He was clearly shocked. When Julia checked, his aura was inky black and shameful green.
Screw this crazy place.
“I want to leave.”
Nathan stared at her for a second, still at a loss. When he finally got his mouth moving, he said, “I’m going to find out what went wrong here, and I promise you, Julia, this is not how we do things.”
“I don’t care how you do things. I want to leave.”
“Please—”
“I want to see Cayne, and then I want to leave.” She would break him out, somehow. Even if things were still messed up, she owed him that. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Nathan looked at her warily, and for the smallest second, she thought she’d done it. But his hard Shepherd face was back the second later. “You don’t have to, but it’s all you’re getting.” Fingering his swelling face, he turned toward the door.
“So you’re keeping me prisoner? Is that it?”
He paused mid-stride.
“Where were you really?” She saw the hitch of neon in his aura. “Are you going to lie again?”
“Julia, please. Go to your room.”
“Take me to The Three,” she challenged. “That’s who you were with, right?”
Julia knew she’d hit the mark when Nathan went rigid. She almost regretted it, though, when he turned and fixed her with a stare that could only be described as furious. “Go to your room this instant.”
Julia sensed the “push” in Nathan’s sentence. “That’s not going to work,” she scoffed.
“Then how about this: Get your ass to your room right now or I’ll visit your boyfriend without you. And you won’t like how that goes.”
Julia’s mouth fell open, because he wasn’t bluffing. Nathan turned and marched down the same hall as the others, leaving Julia to stare at him until he disappeared around bend.
Then she let herself breathe again, let her heart pound. She felt shaky—and not because of Dizzy—but she forced herself to move, to leave the room behind her, to cope with the absolute horror of this place.
She wasn’t watching where she was going, so she didn’t notice her tail until he spoke.
“I think I can be of service.”
Julia spun, startled to find a super hot guy behind her.
Her first thought was Nephilim, but as she drank him in, she knew he was something different. All the Nephilim she’d encountered were a little on the terrifying side, but this guy…there was something truly horrible about him.
Julia remembered when she was younger, and a little girl close to her own age had been murdered—a pageant princess. She remembered seeing the girl’s picture on the cover of a news magazine in the “parlor” of the group home (AKA Haven AKA the orphanage) where she’d spent her first five years of life. She’d been so envious. Unlike Julia, with her snarled brown hair and ordinary brown eyes, this little girl had been so beautiful—pretty enough to find a forever home with a mommy and daddy and maybe even a dog. There was perfection, there on the cover of the magazine. But it was ruined by a bad feeling that had made Julia’s stomach churn.
And that’s how she felt now. The guy before her was physical perfection. Not like hard, tough Cayne, with his broad shoulders, heavy chest, and his cropped dark hair and sharp green eyes. Cayne who made her insides itch. The not-Nephilim was…like a popular boy at her old school. No, the most popular boy at Memphis’ ritziest private school. An asshole whose mother was a Stepford wife and father was a senator. One who drove a fast car. Probably red, with a truck-sized engine that vroom’d when he turned curves. If he hit a pedestrian, he might stash her in the trunk or sink her in a river.
But…oh my. He was beautiful.
His hair was just stupid pretty. Rich caramel, it framed his face in waves that could definitely sell shampoo (or mud). His eyes were seriously gray. Like not dull blue or slightly hazel—gray. They were deep-set under strong brows that made his angular face seem even more angular.
His smile was dangerous. Julia couldn’t think of a better word for it. He was a predator, and h
e knew it.
Beautiful…but tainted, she thought.
He’d tried to dress down his intensity: slouchy, worn jeans, a charcoal-colored sweater (a rope sweater, the Irish kind {she knew this because Harry’s grandparents had been Irish}), and—hello—Converse. He was totally wearing hunter green All-Stars.
Julia’s eyes bulged, and his grin got grinnier. He reached behind his back and pulled out…
“Holy cow.” Her All-Stars!
She felt excited for only a second, before she remembered that he had them.
“They were in the trash. I couldn’t just leave them there.”
He held them out, and Julia felt she had no choice but to take them. She did, quickly, turning to look down the hall before reluctantly indulging her curiosity. “So what are you?”
“Don’t you mean who?” The voice got under her skin. In a good way? Or was it bad? Gah, too hard to tell.
“I mean what.”
The grin was back, along with a sparkle in his eye. She’d never known what that meant before—a sparkle in the eye? really?—but now she did. She was experiencing it first-hand. “As you can clearly see, I’m a guy.” He held his arms out, spread-eagle. “Just an ordinary guy.”
More goosebumps. Déjà vu. Isn’t that what she’d said to Cayne? Just a girl… She chalked it up to coincidence.
“Give me a break.”
“Okaaay. You got me. I’m not regular. I’m awesome.”
“What did you mean earlier, about helping me?”
“You want to see the beings who run this place, right?”
Julia eyed him. “Why would you do that?”
“I like you. I want to help you. End of story.” He shifted his weight, looking sly.
“Really?”
“Well…” He shrugged, and Julia wondered what game he was playing. Because he acted like she was in on the joke. “I think they might want to see you too.”
That almost floored her. She swallowed, trying to ease the sudden dryness in her throat. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Call me Edan. And you’re Julia. Julia the Candidate.” She tried to ignore the way he said it: like she was someone infamous.
“What do you do here?”
“Consider me a consultant. I was brought in to advise in certain matters.”
“Am I one of those matters?”
Edan smiled smugly. “Not directly.”
“Are you a Chosen?”
He wagged his finger, still grinning. “That’s enough questions for now. I have to maintain some air of mystery, after all.”
“But—”
“Your room in an hour.”
“Fine. But you’re going to have to show me how to get there.”
His hand closed around hers—it was warm warm warm—and she was ripping through the Chosen compound. She wasn’t Floating; she was jumping through space, so fast that it was over before she could scream. She opened her eyes and saw she was in the seniors’ hall—in front of her own door, in fact. She glanced left and right, behind her, even up. No Edan.
*
The first thing she did when she got into her room was kick off her gray shoes. She slipped into her All-Stars, then sighed and fell back onto her bed. Not only did she feel empowered, but her feet did, too; those Chosen shoes were hella uncomfortable—not to mention ugly.
She decided she would wear her long-lost All-Stars to see these Three. If they really existed. Julia assumed they had to—she hadn’t felt like Edan was deceiving her, although she realized too late she forgot to look at his aura.
That’s probably a good thing.
She wondered what The Three would be like. And—gulp—what they might tell her. She imagined old men with long, Gandalf-looking white beards and weathered faces. They’d probably be wearing gray robes instead of jumpsuits or vests, and they’d probably treat her…
Julia didn’t know. And suddenly she wasn’t sure if this was such a good idea. Every second she got more and more nervous. Why did they want to see her exactly? Did they know she was mutinous? Or did it have to do with Cayne?
When Meredith came through the Anise side of the wall, chest heaving, long hair flying, Julia jumped ten feet.
“Jules, come on. We’re having an emergency meeting. Anise’s room…next door.”
“I can’t. I—”
“Come on.” Meredith grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “I know, I know, something about Cayne, but this is urgent. You can do that after.”
Julia let herself be pulled into the room next door. All the Candidates who hadn’t been injured were there—Carlin, Meredith, Julia, Monte, Charles, and Drew—as well as Herbert, who was staring dead-eyed at the floor. “We’re going somewhere else,” Drew told her. “Somewhere in the Commons, this little meeting room I know of. It’s not safe to talk here.”
Julia’s snap decision was to go with them. Presumably, Edan could take her to see The Three another time, but this smelled like revolt. Which could mean a way out, for her and Cayne.
Julia Floated back into her room, left a note for Edan—Can we meet in another two hours? Sorry…—and then followed the group through the walls.
“We don’t want to be seen,” Carlin explained. “Especially by Nathan.” She lowered her voice. “Do you think it was a coincidence that he was gone?”
Meredith’s face paled. Julia wanted to look at her aura, but they were already Floating.
The group walked hand-in-hand, with Drew leading. The room he took them to was modeled after a coliseum—a very tiny one—complete with columns and a pit surrounded by benches carved into the stone. It couldn’t be seen from the main area of the Commons, but Julia could see out through a row of small windows. She stared as several Chosen walked right by them without once looking over.
Drew stood out in front of them and cleared his throat. “All right, whatever you think about Nathan or Dizzy or this place, it’s clear something has gone horribly wrong.”
“She’s crazy. Sadistic,” Meredith said.
“This place is completely crazy,” Anise said.
“How did it get so bad?” Carlin wondered.
Drew shook his head. “It was never quite this bad.”
“She used her talent on my brain once,” Monte said. “Dizzy. Remember three months ago, when I had that so-called seizure?”
“And no one did anything!” Carlin gasped.
“Nathan said he’d take care of it.”
“Sure he will,” Anise scoffed.
“Does anyone even know what happened to Dizzy?”
The knives had still been charmed, so Dizzy’s wounds had healed, and after the Bishops broke up the fight, she’d dashed out of the room.
No one knew where she was now.
Monte cursed. “I bet nothing even happens to her.”
Which seemed insane to Julia; but everyone else seemed to expect the same.
“How is that possible?” she demanded. “Who’s in charge at this place—really The Three? Have any of you guys talked to these people before?”
No one of them had. They hadn’t even seen them. Except, “Nathan,” Monte said darkly. “And Dizzy.”
“Others have,” Drew said. “Some other Shepherds. Some of the Bishops.”
“Are they the ones in charge?”
“Of some things,” Carlin said. “They look after administrative stuff, things with the company. And there are lots of Shepherds. They all oversee different things to do with running the compound.”
“What about Nathan? Who’s his boss?”
“Shepherds aren’t really accountable to anyone,” Drew said.
“How did someone like Dizzy become a Shepherd?”
No one answered. Julia stared at them all, aghast, and Charles finally said, “She’s a direct descendant of Methuselah. Or claims to be.”
“Are we? Is that why we’re Candidates?”
One by one, everybody shrugged.
Julia felt like she had been dropped in a mental ho
spital by mistake. She tried to remind herself that they’d been here for years—some of them for most of their lives. “I’m sorry I’ve hijacked the conversation, but doesn’t any of this strike you as strange? There are these Three no one by Nathan and Dizzy have seen—”
“Other people have seen them.”
“Right, but none of us. We’re all Candidates, and we have no idea what that even means.” Drew opened his mouth, but she held up her hand. “I know what you guys say. To be the one to defeat the Nephilim. But how? And when? Is that even supposed to happen this century? And shouldn’t it be a choice? We can’t leave? That’s crazy. Don’t you guys think that’s crazy?”