Half-Born (Half-Blood Chronicles #1) (The Half-Blood Chronicles)

by Ivy Baum

  She smiled sarcastically. “Right. I’m the same bitch you know and love.”

  Junie said, “Now that you’ve blown off high school, you could probably lose the black lipstick and stop dressing like a band member from Kiss.”

  Clover laughed. “You’re showing your age again, Grandma.” She turned to me. “She was a teenager in the eighties.”

  Junie bristled. “Late eighties.”

  Sol said, “Hey, guys? Can we save the heartwarming banter for later? Because right now we really do need to get the hell out of Dodge.”

  Clover pushed one of the duffel bags in my direction.

  “That one’s yours. I packed it while you were off trying to ruin Homecoming.”

  “Thanks.” I was dying to get out of my wet dress.

  “Sorry about the selection. There wasn’t much to choose from.”

  Right. Laundry day. I sighed and pulled out a pair of rhinestone-embroidered jeans and a shirt that said Rockstar.

  Well, it at least I could cover it up with my giant White Falls Crew Team sweatshirt—originally Rain’s—which Clover had also thoughtfully included.

  Sol pointed to a door. “You can change in the bathroom.”

  By the time I emerged, everyone had gone outside to the van.

  It was a big black van—no side windows.

  Junie climbed out through the rear doors and grinned. “Welcome to the Stalker-mobile.”

  She took the duffel bag from me and threw it in the back of the van. I climbed inside, grateful to get out of the rain.

  The only two seats in the van were in the very front, and they were occupied by Deo and Sol, so I settled on the floor.

  We were obviously packed for a road trip. Pillows, blankets, and several coolers were stacked neatly in the back.

  Sol caught my eye from the front passenger seat. “It was either this or rent a church bus.”

  I shifted, trying to find a comfortable place against the wheel well.

  Clover said, “It really has that human sex trafficker vibe, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s our mobile rescue center.” Sol sounded a little offended. “And it’s very practical.”

  Junie said, “Next year, I’m going to request an RV.”

  “Okay, Grandma.”

  From up front, Sol cleared his throat. “All right guys, saddle up. We’re about to take a trip into America’s great underrated heartland. Miles and miles of nothing.”

  Deo started the engine and pulled out of the bumpy driveway.

  It occurred to me that I was in a van full of virtual strangers—and that I had no idea where we were going. “So this Sanctuary place…where is it, exactly?”

  In the dark, I thought I saw Junie grimace. “Northwest Wyoming.”

  I tried not to think about the hours I’d be spending on the floor of this van. My family had never gone on many trips—and certainly not any long road trips.

  In fact, through my entire childhood, I’d barely left White Falls.

  Did Mom know it was a Treaty Zone? But if that were true, then she must have known about me…

  It was not a subject I was willing to think about. Not yet.

  I said, “I thought they got rid of all the Treaty Zones.”

  Junie nodded. “Sanctuary isn’t a Treaty Zone. It’s more like…I don’t know, an unofficial safe zone.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  She shrugged. “The Council of Elders knows it’s there. For whatever reason, they leave it alone.”

  I looked to the rear of the van, and out the window. We were on a country road that would take us to the highway.

  It’s really happening. I’m really leaving White Falls.

  “So they don’t really want us dead that badly?”

  From somewhere near the front, Clover snorted.

  Junie said, “Oh, they do. But they have to do it their way. And that means Sanctuary’s off-limits.”

  I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Sol turned in his seat. “No one ever accused the purebloods of being big on logical consistency.”

  “So what are they big on?”

  He laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Tradition.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “Sanctuary?” Junie smiled. “It takes some getting used to. You’ll see when we get there. Clover’s never been there, either.”

  I frowned. Something had been bothering me. Something about this story didn’t make sense.

  “I don’t get it. You guys came all the way to White Falls to rescue me and Clover?”

  The uncomfortable silence was back.

  Sol turned in his chair. He didn’t look happy.

  Junie spoke to Sol, not me. “She has the right to know.”

  He didn’t reply.

  Junie turned to me. “There was a group of half-bloods at your school. Four of them. We came here last year to save them.”

  “What happened?”

  Her gaze dropped. “We were too late. By the time we got here, three of them had already been taken out.”

  “Taken out? As in—?”

  Sol’s voice growled from the front. “Killed.”

  Junie caught my eye. “There was one survivor, and she’s in this van.”

  Chapter 14

  My gaze went to Clover.

  “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’m not that easy to kill.”

  I imagined her facing off against someone like Dr. Sotheby. “You fought them?”

  Her expression softened. “I scared them off long enough to survive.”

  “You mean your magic—”

  She laughed. “No, I didn’t have jack shit in the magic department. Not back then. But I did have a paranoid stepfather with an arsenal in his bedroom closet. Bought me some time.”

  I pulled my hoodie closer. It may have been ugly, but I’d forgotten how cozy it was. “I don’t get it. Why didn’t the Hunters come after me?”

  Clover smirked. “You’re what we call a ‘late bloomer.’”

  Junie shot her a pointed look. “Be glad that you are, Kes. Having your magic stay dormant a little longer is what saved you.”

  Sol spoke without turning. “Most half-bloods manifest at sixteen, not seventeen.”

  And I was nearly eighteen. I really was a late bloomer. But what did it mean?

  My life had been perfectly normal up until now. Dr. Sotheby would’ve had no reason to suspect me. Except…

  Last spring, I’d been sick. Sick enough to end up in the hospital for five days. On the fourth night, I’d awoken—startled out of sleep by a nameless panic.

  The sofa-chair where Mom usually slept was empty. I nearly called for her. Then I heard the voices just outside my door.

  One was Mom. The other—quiet, and gravely reassuring—was Dr. Sotheby.

  When Mom came back into the room, she was crying.

  The next morning my fever had broken, and I’d forgotten all about it.

  Had everything in my life been a lie?

  I had a sudden thought—somehow, more disturbing than anything else.

  “Is Sydney one of them, too?”

  Junie looked at me, obviously surprised by the question. “You mean a pureblood?”

  I nodded.

  Clover laughed. But Junie seemed to know why I was asking—and what it meant to me.

  She said, gently, “As far as we know, Syd’s perfectly human.”

  I frowned. “But if her father is a pureblood—”

  Clover snapped, “She’s adopted. Obviously.”

  “But she never said anything—”

  Junie shrugged. “She probably doesn’t know.”

  If what they were saying was true, then Syd’s life was even more of a lie than mine. But how was that possible?

  Junie said, “They’re very good at hiding their identities. We didn’t even know that Galen was a mole until last year.”

  I shuddered. I’d come very close to walking right into whatever fate Dr. Sotheb
y and the purebloods had in store for me…

  Junie caught my eye. “Of course, once we realized there was another half-blood in White Falls, we knew we had to protect you. And that meant keeping your identity a secret—until you were ready to go.”

  Clover grinned. “Why do you think your mom moved you to Ionian Gardens?”

  There was an edge to her question. I didn’t want to put my foot in my mouth—

  But she laughed. “It’s okay, you can say it. Ionian Gardens is a shit hole. But it had me.”

  Junie said, “Clover’s Source gift is part of what helped protect you.”

  “Source gift?”

  Junie frowned. “I’d have thought Sol would have given you the speech already.”

  “The speech?”

  Clover smiled, but it wasn’t a happy one. “You know, the speech. The facts of life—only the half-blood version.”

  From up front, Sol made an irritable noise. “She knows the basics, okay? We didn’t exactly have time for the full PowerPoint presentation.”

  Clover deadpanned, “You do know we have magic, right?”

  Junie shot her a dirty look. “The thing about magic is that everyone’s powers come out in a different way.”

  “Sol said we all had different powers.”

  “Right.” Junie nodded at Clover. “She’s a Distorter. Basically, she covers up magic and the traces it leaves behind.”

  “Magic leaves a trail?”

  “Yes. But one that can only be sensed by someone like Deo. He’s a Sniffer.”

  From up front, Deo muttered something under his breath.

  Sol turned around with a grin. “He hates the term Sniffer. Says it makes him sound like a dirty old man pawing through ladies’ underwear.”

  Sol, I noticed, hadn’t volunteered anything about his power.

  He said to Junie, “Tell her what you do. Tell her about your Voice.”

  I glanced at Junie. “Your voice?”

  She shook her head. “Voice. It’s my Source gift.” She gave a lopsided grin. “I sort of…influence people.”

  “Don’t be so modest.” Sol turned to me. “She can get inside people’s heads. Convince them to do things…or not do them.”

  I frowned. “What I did at Homecoming…”

  I didn’t want to admit it out loud, but my power seemed less like something I could control and more like something with a life of its own.

  Junie said, “When we first Manifest, most of us have this pent-up magical energy that’s been building up our entire lives. It tends to come out in some big, dramatic way. But it doesn’t tell us much about your actual Source gift.”

  I nodded, still not quite satisfied. I wanted to be useful. Instead, I felt like an inconveniently large piece of baggage.

  My gaze went to the rear window. We had finally driven out of the rain, but everything outside was dark and sodden.

  I had an unpleasant thought. “Do they have Sniffers, too? The Hunters, I mean?”

  Junie nodded. “It’s not exactly an uncommon gift.”

  Clover added. “Not everyone is as good as Deo, though.”

  I shuddered. “I hope we don’t run into any Hunters.”

  She gave me an irritable look. “There’s a bunch of assholes out there who want to kill you. You’ve got to stop thinking like a victim and starting thinking like a—” She broke off, looking self-conscious.

  Junie raised her eyebrows. “A survivor?”

  Clover nodded. But I had the feeling that that was not what she was going to say.

  After a moment, Junie said, almost gently, “She’s right, Kes. I won’t tell this is going to be a walk in the park. There are Hunters out there, and they’ll be worse as we get closer to Sanctuary. They know most half-bloods who survive Manifestation will make a run for it.”

  Sol turned. Even through the dark, I could see the deep scowl.

  He said, “I don’t even know why they bother. The purebloods, I mean. No one’s showing up at Sanctuary anymore.”

  I looked at Junie. “Really?”

  She shrugged. “We used to get a few dozen new half-bloods every year. Now…”

  Sol smiled thinly. “It’s like they’re disappearing into thin air.”

  We kept driving, and I dozed fitfully against the wall.

  I had long since stopped trying to keep track of what highway we were on or how far we had to go. At one point, I thought I heard someone mention that we were in Iowa.

  When the van slowed, I roused myself.

  Junie said, “We’re stopping for the night.”

  I brightened. “At a hotel?”

  Sol laughed. “That would be a bit of an exaggeration.”

  Junie caught my eye and winked. “You’ll soon be intimately familiar with every low-end motel in the continental United States.”

  We got two rooms—one of the boys, one for the girls.

  The room had seen better days. The carpet was an indeterminate brown, and everything smelled of old smoke and mildew.

  We had two double beds. Since there would be three people in our room, Junie had also procured a dusty old cot.

  It was well past midnight, so I grabbed my duffel bag and headed into the bathroom.

  I emerged in a tank top emblazoned with Minnie Mouse and obscenely short polka-dot bottoms—a long-forgotten Christmas gift from a great-aunt who seemed to have been confused about my age and size.

  I was frankly relieved that Clover, who had gone over to the boys’ room, wasn’t here to see it.

  Junie, who had turned on the ancient television, glanced over—and did a double-take. She grinned. “Nice PJs.”

  I sat on one of the double beds. “Do you think Clover did this on purpose? She was the one who packed my emergency bag.”

  “Just be happy you get to wear your own clothes. Most of us didn’t have time to pack a bag.”

  She’d said it lightly, but her words hit me hard.

  You almost died, you idiot.

  And these people—Junie, Sol, Deo, and Clover—had been cooling their heels in White Falls since last spring just to rescue me. Meanwhile, I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself over the state of my wardrobe.

  I was extra glad Clover wasn’t here to give me a dirty look.

  I threw on a sweatshirt and told Junie I was going outside for some “fresh air.” If she noticed me shoving my phone into the front pocket, she didn’t say anything.

  We were on the second floor and overlooked the nearly empty parking lot. I walked halfway down, then leaned over the railing. For a moment, I simply let the cold air wash over my face.

  Then I took out my phone.

  Every week since he’d left, I had called my father. It was my Saturday ritual—the night Mom worked the evening shift.

  Alone in the apartment, I would settle myself in the crook of the sofa by the large living room window. Then, with my stomach twisting in knots, I’d call him.

  He never picked up, of course. And I never left a message.

  Those nights had been driven by a single question. Why did you leave?

  Now, I had a million new questions—and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get answers to them.

  Jonathan Adler is not your biological father.

  Had he found out?

  I considered the phone. How much longer would it work? Now that there was no one around to pay the bills…

  I shoved the phone in my pocket. Then, to my shock, it rang.

  I pulled it out, heart racing.

  The screen read, Sydney.

  Chapter 15

  Don’t answer.

  In fact, the sensible thing to do would be to turn off my phone entirely.

  I didn’t do that. Instead, I found myself gazing at the screen.

  What if this was my last chance to talk to Sydney?

  How dangerous was it, really, to pick up the phone? Syd didn’t know anything about magic, or half-bloods.

  Or who her father really was.

  And she was st
ill my best friend. Besides, I wouldn’t give her any information—nothing she could unwittingly pass along to her father.

  I answered breathlessly.

  “Syd?”

  “Kes? Thank God you picked up!”

  She sounded terrified and relieved at the same time.

  Or was it just an act?

  Technically, it was still Homecoming night. Shouldn’t she be partying with her friends…or at least her date?

  Syd said, “Are you okay? I’ve been so worried.”

  “You have?”

  There was the tiniest hesitation. “I mean, after everything that happened…”

  I felt a wave of anger. “You mean after you and everyone else decided to ditch me?”

  “I’m sorry, Kes. I’ve been so selfish.” She sounded genuinely remorseful.

  But then again, back before she dubbed it “too lame,” Syd used to star in every school play.

  “Will you forgive me?”

  This was everything I wanted, everything I’d hoped for these past few months—and it was being offered up on a silver platter.

  It’s not real.

  With that, I’d made my decision.

  “Sure, Syd.” I didn’t have Syd’s acting talents, but I put some effort into sounding convincing. “I forgive you. We can talk about it later.”

  “Why don’t you come over right now? I sent Aidan home. We can make hot chocolate and talk.”

  For a moment, I wanted so badly to say yes that the words caught in my throat. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

  There was a long pause this time. “I know you’re not at home, Kes. I came by your apartment. Tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up.”

  Faint warning bells had been going off in my head. Now they were blaring.

  Something was not right.

  Syd spoke into the silence, sounding less composed. “Look, Kes, I’m worried about you. After everything you went through, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to run away. But you have people who care about you. We just want to know you’re safe.”

  What, exactly, had Syd’s father told her?

  I spoke with deliberate calm. “Do you know where your father is?”

  “My dad? He’s at work. He’s been there all night.”

  Did she believe what she was saying? The others seemed to think that Syd was in the dark about her father. But this conversation was awfully convenient.