Three Kinds of Damned

by May Dawson

  When I reach the fountain, I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching me. Airren’s usually slick as hell—is it just because I know he’s out there?

  I sit on the edge of the fountain and kick my feet out in front of me, my fingers wrapping around the curved marble edge. The water bubbles in a constant soft hush behind me. In the fountain, carved statues of lions cavort with their cubs in the spray, and during the daytime, so do little kids with their pants cuffed to their knees, splashing each other and racing giggling through the spray.

  The last time I saw Raila, I was a freshman. She came here to visit—she had to avoid my parents after they found out—and on a sunny day in this square, while children giggled and screamed, she bobbed up and kissed my cheek before she even said hello. I hadn’t meant to let her kiss me, but she smelled like the same floral perfume she wore during my first time, and her cheek was soft, and her lips were painted the same deep shade of red that emphasized the quick, white flash of her smile. “Did you miss me?” she’d asked. And I answered honestly: “I don’t know.”

  For the first time, it hits me like a ton of bricks: Airren or Croft was listening that day, too, even though I hadn’t had the same creeping sense up my spine I do now. Iit was just after I told Raila that I wanted no part of the True that they welcomed me into their little circle because they needed my technical expertise. Little did they know then they’d be stuck with me as a partner for ever after.

  A muscle twitches in my cheek. Why the hell have they kept that from me until now? I wouldn’t have cared.

  “Boo.”

  It’s a soft, teasing tone, right behind my shoulder. Raila.

  I push away my feelings as I turn and flash her a smile. “Boo to you.”

  She holds her slender arms outstretched, a teasing smile written across her lips, as if she isn’t sure I’ll hug her but she doesn’t mind either way. “That’s all you have to say to me after three years?”

  “You started it.” When I lean in to hug her, the floral scent of her perfume wraps around me, velvety and rich as rose petals.

  She looks the same as ever—her lips and eyes mischievous in their cast by nature, her nose and chin sweet little snubs. She never quite looks her age, due to her pixie face and equally pixie-like stature; the top of her head barely reaches my chest. It was hard to feel like she was taking advantage of me when I was a dumb kid and she was the older woman, when she pushed me against the side of my parents’ sailboat and left scarlet lipstick-prints across my throat.

  She wraps her arms around me tightly, resting her face against my chest. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.”

  She grins as she pats my cheek with her hand. “You’re still copy-catting.”

  Maybe I am. It’s easier to set up a mark if one allows them to take the lead. I was Raila’s mark once, but this time, I intend to return the favor.

  “It’s still true.” I rest my hands on her shoulders, taking a step back. It looks affectionate, but it puts some space between this woman and me. “Why did you want to see me, Raila?”

  “Cut right to the point, why don’t you?”

  “I was hoping to.”

  “I just wanted to catch up with my favorite boy in all of Avalon.”

  “I’m not a boy anymore,” I remind her.

  “Well, Cax.” Her smile widens, her lips parting. “You were never really a boy, in all the time I’ve known you.”

  “My mother disagreed.”

  Something rueful flashes in her eyes. “That she did.”

  My mother did her damndest to ruin Raila after she discovered our relationship. Raila had been flirting with the True before that—despite what I wanted to believe then, I think my family connections are why she seduced me—but once she was frozen out of high society, she devoted herself entirely to the True.

  It’s no surprise to me Raila’s risen so far in the last four years.

  “Still a con artist?” I let the edge come through in my words. I can’t let this come easy for her or she’ll doubt me.

  “You know me better than that, Cax.” There’s no ire in her voice.

  “You have many wonderful qualities, but honesty’s never been one of them.” Of course, I could say the same for myself.

  “I don’t want to talk about the past,” she says, with cheerful decisiveness. “I want to talk about the future. Except for one small thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Have you forgiven me, Cax Roman?” She tilts her head to one side, a smile still written across her lips.

  I take her hand in mine. “When your history is as complicated as ours, not to forgive would be an oversimplification.”

  Her eyebrows rise. “That’s nonsense, dear boy.”

  I raise her knuckles to my lips, smiling before I kiss them. “I’ve always been full of nonsense and you’ve always been fond of it.”

  “I wasn’t too fond of your nonsense the last time we met here, all those years ago.”

  She smells good and she looks lovely, but all I can think about is Tera. Tera’s luminous, suspicious blue eyes and the irresistible cupid’s bow of her lips rise in my memory, and with the thought of her face comes the desire to be as true to her as I can be. I want to shove Raila away and run from her like the snake she is.

  But I have to take care of Tera.

  And today, that means kissing Raila and pretending I bleed True.

  I rest my hands on Raila’s slender hips. We are intimately close when I say, “Well, I was a fool three years ago. You can’t blame me for that.”

  “Because you were just a boy?”

  “I thought you said I was never just a boy.” I cock my head to one side, matching her curious pose. “No, three years ago I’d bought into Crown lies. I was raised to believe them, after all.”

  “Cax…” She pauses.

  “Don’t tell me you left the True behind.” I bite down on my lip, pretending to be abashed to have confessed my interest in the True too soon. “Our secret, Raila. We’ve always been good at keeping those.”

  “Not good enough,” she teases. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Good.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  I take her hand in mine and draw her with me to walk. Time to lie for my life.

  For Tera’s life.

  18

  Tera

  When Cax takes the hand of that wench, my heart bottoms out.

  It’s a sick feeling, like I was standing on solid footing one minute and then next, the ground is slick mud sliding out from underneath me. My stomach tightens and rises like it does the second a fall begins. But the feeling doesn’t fade. It’s as if I’m in free fall.

  I turn away from them, my back pressed against the stone building behind me, and run my hands through my hair. Tears prickle in the corners of my eyes, and I squeeze them shut. When I do, Mycroft’s face rises in front of me. “There are just as many bastards in the magical world as in the mundane, and I don’t believe in letting them win.” He’d told me once. “Get angry.”

  Cax shouldn’t have told me he cared about me, then done this.

  Maybe there’s a good reason. Maybe there’s a plan, which the boys kept me from because, I don’t know, they’re assholes sometimes, and he’ll have an explanation.

  I start to stick my head back around the corner, but the two are walking toward me. My heart hammers in my chest as I flatten myself against the wall again. Suddenly, my breathing sounds rough and raspy in the cool night air. I press my lips closed and breathe through my nose, even though it feels like I can’t get enough air to fill my lungs.

  “I have to admit, I always thought you’d come around.” Her voice is soft, feminine. I’d describe it as lilting if I didn’t want to stab her in the eye.

  “The facts are clear once you get past the Crown’s propaganda,” he says. “Although I’ve never cared much for wearing black.”

  “Cax, no one would ask you to
be anyone but yourself. Right down to your style.”

  “Anonymity seems to be a theme.”

  “But not for long!” She says, just as they pass the wall where I’m hiding. They come within a few feet of me. Her dark hair is pulled up into a smooth chignon, and her neck is slender above the shoulders of her blue wool jacket. She’s smaller than I am, and I can tell from her voice she’s much older. I don’t know why Cax is so flirtatious with a woman old enough to be his mother.

  “We’ll see.” He shakes his head.

  “Are you trying to play both sides?” She hangs on his arm, and her head tilts up toward him.

  “I’m always open to the possibilities.” He tilts in toward her, his lips nuzzling his ear. “Even when they’re dangerous. You know that firsthand.”

  She laughs. “Yes, yes, I do. What are the possibilities with that girl of yours?”

  “What girl?” His voice carries a note of surprise.

  Knife. Through. My. Heart.

  “You know what girl, Cax. There’s only one girl you’ve spent that much time with besides Stelly.”

  “Tera?”

  “Yes. Tera.”

  “She’s an interesting person.”

  “Mm. Isn’t she?”

  I don’t dare move as they finally move out of my line of vision and disappear behind the brick corner of the building facing me. A dark shadow swoops over me—a bat, it’s just a bat—and I press my fingers to my lips to hold back any sound of surprise as my heart hammers even harder.

  God, just a few seconds earlier and my movement would’ve pulled Cax’s attention to me, I’m sure of it. I imagine his eyes widening in surprise as they meet mine, but I can’t imagine the next moment. I can’t imagine what the hell he’d say.

  Part of me wants to grab his shoulder, swing him around, and find out.

  “So,” she says, into the silence between them. “Do you like her?”

  “She’s sweet.” He sounds dismissive.

  Their voices are softer now, but my chances of following them without being seen are almost nil.

  “And what else?”

  “That’s it. Just sweet.”

  She laughs, and I know that Cax has just damned me with the faintest praise. Heat prickles my cheeks. That bastard. I thought the worst thing was having people think I’m evil, but right now it feels like the worst thing is having people think you’re boring.

  Well, damn him too. I’m not boring. I’ve been through hell and if I am still sweet, that makes me fucking incredible. I bite down on my lower lip hard, holding myself back. I want to go after him, but I have to be smart.

  “Does she know you’re interested in joining the True?”

  “You would think she’d assume, but no,” he says lightly. “Why else would I have befriended her on her first day here?”

  “Because she’s pretty?”

  “She’s young, and she acts younger,” he says. “I’ve always favored a more mature woman.”

  “You flatter me, Cax.”

  “I wasn’t talking about you, Raila. My God. The ego!”

  Their laughter fades into the distance.

  I turn on my heel and pace into the alleyway between the two buildings. I’m full of restless tension. I can’t go back to Rawl House right now. Does Stelly know her brother is True? Airren and Mycroft came along with Cax as a package deal. Are they True, too?

  The best thing about coming back to Avalon had nothing to do with the magic or the scenery or the food. It was trusting someone again for the first time in years.

  Cax just ripped that out of my hands.

  Now I want to tear down the brick walls around me. Restless energy rattles through my body, seeking release. I wiggle my fingers, momentarily distracted from my rage. Wouldn’t this be when my powers would come surging back, in the heat of my emotions? My wrath?

  There’s a can on the ground, next to the trash can outside the bakery. I hold out my trembling fingers—trembling with rage, not weakness—and raise them slowly through the air. Focus. Breathe. Be fucking magical for once in your life.

  The can is motionless.

  It’s just me, alone, with the trash in this alley. Powerless, clueless, but sweet.

  I am going to destroy Cax Roman.

  We’ll see what he says about sweet then.

  The silence of is broken by a faint scratch. Rat, probably.

  Oh my God. My hand dives into my pocket, into the wooden box that shelters my egg. When my fingertips brush the smooth, warm shell, they run over a shard that sticks out.

  My egg is hatching.

  In a second, all the rage drops away—although I have no doubt it will be back—because I have to get back to Rawl House to make sure the egg is okay. I head toward the end of the alley and pause, glancing down the street to make sure Cax and his crone aren’t looking my way. They’re far distant, with the moon reflecting silver off Cax’s bright hair and her face still tilted rapturously towards his, lost in some True fantasy.

  People wonder if I’m going to follow my father into evil, but I really and deeply hate the True. Always, but especially now. Not for the sake of a boy—and he is definitely a boy, no matter what she said—but because for a few precious weeks, I believed that maybe the world was actually a place of warmth and light. I thought that the way I suffered on Earth could be the sickness of that realm, not my life here too.

  But tonight I feel bone-deep cold. Every world is equally dark and twisted, even if magic polishes its surface.

  I head for the campus with a quick step and my head held high. If Cax glanced back, from here, he might not even recognize me.

  The walk back makes me anxious. It’s the first time I’ve really been alone since I came to Avalon; within minutes of arriving in Corum, I was surrounded by the guys, and they haven’t left me since. Even when I followed Cax, I knew he was within earshot. If I had stumbled into trouble, I could’ve screamed for him and he’d come to my rescue. Now, I’m really and truly alone. People do have a habit of trying to beat me into nothing but oatmeal-and-jam.

  I stroke my egg absently with my fingertips; I can almost feel the anxiety of my little dragon, struggling to break free from its egg. The shadows of the trees seem to loom, deep and dark and full of potential danger, but I rush through them, heading through town and up the route toward campus. I don’t feel better when I see people on the street, because anyone could be an enemy.

  Then Rawl House is in the distance in front of me, lights shining out like eyes from a face that has grown familiar and become beautiful in its familiarity, and I breathe again.

  Still, while I feel safe as I cross under the lacy branches threaded with white lights and am within calling distance of the building, I hesitate when I reach the broad white stairs up to the doors. Lights blaze beside the doors, cheerful and welcoming. Now, though, I’ll either have to go to my own room—which might arouse suspicion—or go to Airren’s room.

  I wonder what Mycroft would say. I want to see him, for some reason, but I imagine myself knocking on the door only to have Cax open it, grinning his usual cocky grin. And I imagine myself slugging him in the face. Cax can’t possibly have beaten me back here, can he?

  If Cax is true, maybe they’re all True. The thought fills my stomach with heavy dread. I need time to strategize.

  There’s a scratching sound from my pocket. I jump forward, heading up the stairs. Airren’s, then. I think it might actually be harder around Stelly, who is so light-hearted and happy and adores her brother. It always feels like Airren has some wall up between us; might as well give it back to him. With Stelly, I’d feel guilty for lying.

  It’s only when I reach the door to Airren’s room that I realize I don’t have a key. One of the guys is always with me, or the door is unlocked because we’re just around the house. I grab the knob, but it doesn’t turn in my hand. Damn.

  Then Airren swings the door open. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans for once; the soft gray material of the t-shirt clings a
cross his biceps and pecs and drapes loosely over the lean taper of his waist.

  “Tera, where the hell have you been?” he explodes. Then he glances down the hall. He jerks his head into his room. “Come on.”

  “Excuse me?” All the anger from earlier tonight is back with a vengeance.

  He glances down the hall again—a girl carrying her laundry basket is staring—and then grabs my waist and pulls me into his room. I lean back, out of his reach, as he bumps the door shut with his shoulder.

  As he turns to me, I wrap my fingers around his and yank his grip away. “Don’t touch me. I didn’t ask you to touch me.”

  His jaw sets angrily before his eyes meet mine. Then his face changes and he takes a step back, raising his hands. “I’m sorry.”

  It’s such a sudden apology, coupled with such obvious understanding, that I’m suddenly embarrassed. I glance away from him. I’m full of overreactions. “It’s fine.”

  “I was worried about you. Stelly said you’d come up here, and then you were gone…” He rakes a hand through his dark hair, blowing out a slow breath. “I thought the True took you while we were looking the other way.”

  He really was scared. I think? But maybe he was scared because they want to use me to get close to the True. Maybe I’m some kind of bargaining chip for the guys to leverage to leadership within the True. I wish I’d been able to overhear everything Cax said. I wish I knew if Airren was True or if I could trust him.

  There’s a scritching and the faintest mewl of distress, muffled by my jacket pocket, and I gasp.

  Right. I came back for a reason, and it wasn’t to fight with Airren.

  “Where were you?” he asks, but I’m already slinging off my jacket and settling onto the floor.

  With the wool pooled in front of me, I reach into the pocket and draw the egg out reverently.

  Airren kneels next to me. “Don’t touch. You have to let it come out of the shell on its own.”

  “When did you become a shifter expert?” I demand, even though I have no intention of breaking the shell apart. I wriggle onto my stomach, my feet swinging above my knees, so I can get a closer look at the egg.