Nightshade

by Andrea Cremer

  I swallowed a mouthful of turkey and wheat bread. “Okay, listen up.”

  In a single movement the Nightshades leaned forward. Except Mason, who tipped his chair away to balance on its back legs and crossed his arms behind his head. He glanced at the Banes and then winked at me. I laughed.

  “Ren’s watching. Be cool. Be Mason.”

  The rest of the pack mumbled embarrassed excuses, trying to assume more casual poses with varying levels of success.

  “The Bane alpha made an interesting suggestion.” I chewed on my sandwich, ignoring my lurching stomach.

  Bryn twirled her spaghetti around the tines of her fork. “And what was that?”

  “He wants us to start hanging out.” I tried not to cringe as my pack struggled to hold their composure.

  Ansel sent corn chips scattering across the table. Fey’s lips curled up in disgust and she threw an incredulous look at Bryn, who had drawn in a hissing breath. Only Mason remained unruffled. He stretched his arms languidly, looking pleased. My low growl made the pack settle.

  Bryn spoke first, in a hushed voice. “Do you mean he wants to date you?” I winced at her incredulous tone.

  “No, us.” I swept my hand around the circle of the table. “Our packs. He thinks the Banes and Nightshades should start to merge now. Before the union.”

  “Oh, come on.” Fey was livid. “Why would we want to do that any sooner than we have to?” She shredded a napkin that had the misfortune of resting on her lunch tray.

  Mason rocked back and forth in his chair. “Could be interesting.”

  “Bryn?” I turned to face her.

  “What’s his motivation?” Her eyes darted to the Bane table.

  I followed her gaze. Dax looked crestfallen, while Neville pulled his tweed cap over his eyes, dropping his head back against his chair to nap. Ren had taken a seat near Sabine, who leaned into him, her lips moving rapidly as she spoke. Cosette’s head bobbed in affirmation as she listened.

  “The same as mine,” I murmured. “Efron’s riding him. And Lumine’s doing the same with me. She had wraiths in my house last night.”

  My pack bristled at the mention of the shadow guards.

  “Ren thinks that if we show our compliance to the union early,” I continued, “you know—follow orders before they are orders—that the Keepers will give us a break.”

  “What do you think?” Ansel had gathered the scattered Fritos back into a pile in front of him.

  “I think we should try it. One step at a time,” I said. “If it sucks, we’ll separate and wait until the order is given in October.”

  Mason dropped his chair back to the floor. “What do you mean one step at a time?”

  “We’re invited to a party at Eden on Friday night.”

  “Whoa.” Mason elbowed Ansel, who grinned.

  “But . . .” All their eyes were on me. “I don’t want the Banes to call the shots. Eden is Efron’s turf. Their turf.”

  Bryn leaned closer to me but looked at the other Nightshades, baring her teeth. “She’s right. Ren can’t control the merge.”

  “He won’t,” I said. “I’m going to keep him guessing. He’s always been too sure of himself.”

  My packmates laughed, nodding.

  “I need you guys to follow my lead and play nice,” I said. “Even if what I do is somewhat . . . shocking.”

  Mason drummed his fingers on the table. Ansel cocked his head. Bryn just nodded. I stared at Fey, who chomped at her apple before speaking.

  “You’re the alpha, Cal,” she said, mouth full of fruit flesh. “But for the record, I hate Sabine. She’s a heinous bitch.”

  “Maybe she’s nice when you get to know her,” Ansel said. He shrank away from Fey’s withering glare.

  “So we’re agreed, then?” I straightened in my chair, waiting. They all nodded, Mason eagerly, Fey last.

  “Okay, guys. Here comes the cannonball.” I turned to face the Banes.

  “Hey, Ren!” I called.

  He broke off his conversation with Sabine, whose face contorted with outrage. His eyebrows shot up, but he quickly composed his face into a picture of disinterested but respectful regard.

  “Yeah?”

  “Push our tables together?”

  I heard Fey swear under her breath. My smile broadened when Ren couldn’t suppress the startled twitch of his limbs.

  “Of course.” He shot a quick look at Dax and jerked his head toward us.

  The bulky senior walked over and gripped our table with one hand. He pulled it along the ground, which caused a horrible screeching of metal on tile, until it bumped up against the Banes’ table. Heads all over the cafeteria lifted and turned toward the teeth-grating sound. The Keepers’ faces registered shock and murmurs of interest drifted toward us.

  Good. Let Lumine and Efron hear about this as soon as possible.

  Mason was already on his feet; he dragged his chair over to Neville, who looked surprised but smiled and pushed his own seat back to make room. Mason waved Ansel over. My brother trotted happily to his friend’s side, and Neville extended a welcoming hand.

  Huh. I hadn’t expected such an easy melding of our packs.

  Sabine scooted backward when Fey carried her chair to the united tables. Fey stared back at the Bane girl, positioning her own seat as far from Sabine as possible.

  Maybe not so easy.

  “Calla?” Bryn waited beside me.

  “Fey needs some moral support. And maybe restraints. Sit with her.”

  I kept my gaze on Ren. He leaned over to Dax. I saw his lips move though I couldn’t hear the words. Dax stiffened. Ren put a hand on his shoulder, which Dax shrugged off as he stood.

  The broad-shouldered wolf sauntered past me, picked up the chair I had been sitting in, and carried it over to Bryn and Fey. I nodded and they adjusted their chairs with some reluctance to make room for the imposing Bane. Ren gestured to the chair next to him and raised his eyebrows at me.

  I grabbed my lunch and moved to the empty seat. Sabine sulked. Cosette offered a nervous smile as I sat down.

  “Hello, ladies,” I said.

  Sabine grunted, tightening the lock of her arms around her body.

  “Hi, Calla,” Cosette murmured, toying with the meatball atop her plate of spaghetti. Her glance darted uneasily from me to Sabine.

  “Interesting move, Lily.” Ren took a swig from his bottled water.

  I resumed chomping on my turkey sandwich and shrugged. “I thought it might save us from random acts of violence at Eden. I’m sure Efron wouldn’t enjoy pulling rival teen wolves off each other in the middle of his party.”

  Ren laughed, tilting his chair on its back legs, but Sabine glared at me.

  “So you’re coming?” Her nails dug into the flesh of her arms, leaving bright red welts.

  “Of course. We can’t wait,” I said. My voice dripped saccharin.

  “Whatever.” She pulled out an emery board and began filing her nails.

  Ren brought his chair back to the floor with an abrupt clatter. “Knock it off, Sabine. Now.”

  She dropped the emery board and cast a pleading glance at Cosette. The younger Bane girl bit her lip, scooped up the board, and handed it back to Sabine.

  A trill of wicked laughter came from the other table. Fey grinned as her eyes followed Dax’s wildly gesticulating hands.

  “Well, that is a strange sight,” I said. “Smiling ranks at the top of her seven deadly sins.”

  Ren leaned toward me. “Dax is a funny guy. Great storyteller. Your pack will like him.”

  “That seems to be the case.”

  Mason, Neville, and Ansel remained so engrossed in their conversation—which from snatches I caught seemed to be about whether Montreal, Austin, or Minneapolis produced the best indie bands—they didn’t even glance at the rest of the wolves. I leaned back in my chair, feeling rather pleased with myself.

  This is easy.

  The mouthful of turkey sandwich I’d bitten off caught in
my throat when Ren rested his hand on my leg, his fingers exploring the curve of my thigh. I coughed and snatched the bottle of water from his other hand, taking several desperate swallows before swatting his fingers from my leg.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” I choked the words out. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

  Ren opened his mouth as if to respond, but he suddenly jerked upright, looking behind me. I turned in my seat.

  Shay stood in the middle of the cafeteria, staring at our two tables, a mixture of curiosity and fear playing over his face.

  “I think you’re right, Lily,” Ren said. “That boy needs directions. He looks like he wants to come over here.”

  Shay took a hesitant step toward us. His eyes fixed on me, mesmerized. I shuddered and shoved the remainder of my sandwich into the brown paper bag.

  Sabine snickered. “My, my, that’s a love-struck gaze if I’ve ever seen one. It looks like the newbie has a crush on Calla. Isn’t that sweet? Poor little human.”

  It was becoming too familiar, this mixture of fear and pleasure whenever I thought about the new boy and wondered what he might be thinking about me.

  A low rumble stirred in Ren’s chest. “Maybe I need to have a chat with him about how things stand with us . . . and where his place is at this school.”

  He started to rise. I couldn’t let him get to Shay.

  “No, Ren. Please. He’s just a human. He doesn’t know any better.” I grabbed his arm, pulling him back into the chair. “Give it a day; he’s bound to figure it out. They always do.”

  “Is that what you want?” His voice dropped low. “For me to leave him alone?”

  “We’re not supposed to mix with the humans,” I said. “It will only draw attention if you confront him.”

  He pulled my hand off his forearm, threading his fingers through my own.

  I tensed but didn’t attempt to free my hand from his clasp.

  Okay, we can hold hands. This is okay. This will be okay.

  But my heart felt like I was trying to finish a marathon. I hated that I couldn’t control myself around him—and that I had to.

  The rest of the pack, attuned to the sudden bristling of their two alphas, dropped their conversations and turned to the stranger. A rippling snarl emerged from their throats and my spine prickled. Their defensive reaction was the first unified act of the young Nightshades and Banes.

  We are a pack.

  With ten pairs of hostile Guardian eyes fixed upon him, Shay began to quiver. His glance shot around the cafeteria, settling on his lab partners from Organic Chemistry. He hurried over to their table with a quick, regretful glance back at me.

  A dark laugh rolled out of Ren’s throat. “Guess you were right, Lily. There’s the learning curve in action.”

  I smiled weakly and crumpled my lunch bag, too aware of the disappointment still pinching me from the moment Shay had walked away.

  FIVE

  LAMELY TITLED “BIG IDEAS,” MY ONLY AFTERNOON course surveyed philosophy from the classical era through the present day. Despite its vague theme, the class had become my favorite, but when I saw Shay sitting in a desk near the tall windows of the room’s outer wall, my heart tripped over itself. I headed to the back of the room, as far away as I could get. Shay’s eyes were on me as I took my seat. I pulled out the thick binder that contained our readings for the entire year and flipped to the homework from the previous night. As I tried to review my notes, the words blurred before me.

  Who is he? Why is he here?

  A low, husky laugh drew my attention to the door as the three Bane seniors entered the room. Sabine smiled up at Ren. My jaw clenched to see her arm threaded through his. Dax bounded in just behind the pair. Ren scanned the half-filled seats, his grin fading the second he saw our new classmate.

  Ren pulled his arm free of Sabine, turned toward Dax, and jerked his chin in the stranger’s direction. The two Banes swaggered shoulder to shoulder up to Shay, whose eyes widened as the wolves approached. I gripped the sides of my chair, ready to throw myself between predators and unwitting prey if things got out of hand. Ren’s lips curled back in an expression that could hardly be called a smile. I fought back a snarl as I watched the alpha close in.

  If you hurt him, I’ll kill you. I swallowed my own gasp at the unbidden thought, glad we weren’t in wolf form. Ren was the last person I could threaten. He was the pack’s future. My future.

  He extended his hand. “I’m Ren Laroche. You’re new here. I saw you in Organic Chemistry.”

  Shay frowned and slowly reached out, wincing when Ren grasped his fingers. But instead of shrinking down into his desk, as most humans would have, the stranger glared at Ren and ripped his hand out of the Bane’s grasp.

  “Shay. Shay Doran.” He flexed his fingers beneath his desk.

  “Good to know you, Shay.” Ren glanced at his hulking companion. “This is Dax.”

  Dax made a show of cracking his knuckles. “Hey, man. Hope you make it here. Tough school.”

  In a swift, unison motion Ren and Dax slid into the desks on either side of Shay. I clutched my pencil so tightly it snapped in half. From his newly selected seat, Ren winked at me. I sent him dagger eyes, but it only widened his smile.

  The bell sounded and our teacher, Mr. Selby, began to write on the whiteboard. The scrawled question: WHAT IS THE TRUE STATE OF NATURE? filled the blank space.

  “Before we launch into today’s discussion topic, I want to bring your attention to a new member of our class.” He turned and gestured to where Shay sat, tense, between the lounging Bane boys.

  “Mr. Doran, would you say a few words about yourself?”

  Shay shifted in his seat, glancing around the classroom.

  “I’m Shay. I just moved here with my uncle. I was in Portland for the last two years. And then before that, well . . . I haven’t ever stayed in one place for very long.”

  Mr. Selby smiled at our new classmate. “Welcome to the Mountain School. I understand that you may not have had time to catch up on all the assigned reading for this course yet, but feel free to join the discussion if you’d like.”

  “Thanks,” Shay said, before muttering something under his breath that sounded like: “I’ll try to keep up.”

  Mr. Selby turned back to the board. “From the reading: philosophers’ ideas about how the natural order of the world operates. Where it all began, what it looks like?”

  “In paradisum. Paradise. Eden.” Ren flashed me a wicked smile.

  “Very good, Mr. Laroche. The state of nature as paradise. Lost forever—maybe, maybe not? Enlightenment philosophers thought the New World might be the new Eden.” Mr. Selby recorded the response on the whiteboard. “What else?”

  “Tabula rasa,” I answered. “The blank slate.”

  “Yes. Every person born with endless possibility inside them. Locke’s theory gained quite a following. We should talk about whether you think it’s viable in contemporary society. Other ideas?”

  “Bellum omnium contra omnes.”

  All the non-humans in the room stiffened in their seats, heads turning toward the speaker. The rest of the students looked impressed by all the Latin phrases being thrown around, but no comprehension dawned on their faces.

  “The war of all against all.” Shay frowned when Mr. Selby didn’t copy the words onto the board.

  “Thomas Hobbes is often considered a foundational theorist about the state of nature,” Shay continued, though his voice had become more hesitant. Mr. Selby turned, face paling as he stared at his new pupil.

  Shay’s mouth flattened at Mr. Selby’s expression. “I do a lot of reading on my own.”

  “Hobbes wasn’t in our readings,” a cold voice said.

  I drew a sharp breath. The speaker was a Keeper boy with a crown of golden casually spiked hair. Logan Bane, Efron’s only son, threw a spiteful look at Shay. I stared at the young Keeper. Logan never participated in discussion. He usually slept through class.

  “That doesn’t mak
e any sense.” Shay twirled a pen in his fingers. “He’s in all the standard philosophy texts.”

  Mr. Selby glanced at Logan, who tilted his head at the teacher and raised his eyebrows.

  “The, um, Mountain School curriculum doesn’t include Thomas Hobbes.” Mr. Selby’s eyes bulged, still fixed on the young Keeper.

  Shay looked ready to stand on top of his desk in protest. “What?”

  Logan turned to him. “It has been concluded that his ideas are somewhat banal for our consideration.”

  “By who?” The Keepers’ and Guardians’ eyes were focused on Shay. The human students looked as though they wanted to hide beneath their desks until this line of discussion was dropped.

  Logan pulled off the sunglasses he always wore, no matter the weather nor the time of day.

  I watched, amazed. This must be a big deal.

  “The Regents,” he said, as if correcting a child’s mistake. “One of whom is your uncle, Shay. Also my father and several other significant men who protect the reputation of this institution.”

  My jaw dropped. Uncle?

  “And they’ve censored Hobbes?” Shay said. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.”

  “Let’s move on, shall we?” A sheen of sweat appeared on Mr. Selby’s forehead.

  “Why? Why wouldn’t you study Hobbes? He’s arguably the founder of this subject of discussion,” Shay blurted.

  My fingers gripped the edge of my desk. He might as well have walked in front of a firing squad wearing a target. I can’t believe I have to help him again.

  “Because we know better.” I spit out the words. “We can evolve from Hobbes’s disastrous world and not wallow in violence. War is a savage schoolmaster, right?”

  Mr. Selby gave me a grateful smile, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. “Thank you, Ms. Tor. Nice use of Thucydides. The theorists we study in this class have a more hopeful outlook on the world than did Mr. Hobbes.”

  Ren beat pencils on his desk like drumsticks. “I don’t know. Savagery seems okay to me.”