by Ryals, R. K.
"It's not raining either."
"Do you want it to?" Conor asks.
I sit up.
"No!" I say quickly. "I may not remember much of that sea journey you took me on, but showers and baths are enough water for me for awhile."
Conor snorts, and I realize he's trying not to laugh. I am tempted to hit him, but our connection is too new. He still makes me nervous, and I'm not sure we are even friends. It doesn't matter how comfortable I feel around him. He's my Guardian. My life is in his hands. It's a little daunting knowing this. I'm fallible.
"How long will they keep me separated from the other Demons?" I ask.
Conor is still.
"I don't think it will be long. You seem to be a fast learner."
I feel anger sweep through me, and I know it's coming from the other room. I've felt this anger before.
"Lyre plans to kill me," I say.
Silence stretches between us and then, "She's jealous."
I'm not expecting this response from Conor, and I know my mouth hangs open.
"Of my power?" I ask.
"Partly," Conor answers.
Partly?
"There's another reason?"
"Yeah," Conor says. "Me."
I don't move. My chest is tight. Nothing I say in that moment will be right. I want to ask why, but I don't.
"I've made mistakes," Conor says suddenly.
I still don't move, but I do breathe. The exhale is audible.
"Everyone makes mistakes," I say slowly.
"You say that because it's the nice thing to say."
Conor shifts away from me.
"I say that because I'm not quite sure what you're getting at. Is this a confession?" I ask.
Conor laughs, but it sounds as harsh as it does amused.
"When I was sixteen, I slept with Lyre."
It is blunt, his words, and rushed. And for a confession, this is a bad one. If there are words I'm supposed to say, they don't come to me. I'm not quite sure how to feel. On one hand, I don't know Conor well enough to be incredibly upset. On the other, I think I have a Deidra crush on him, and it's been severely skewered.
"Oh," I say finally.
Conor moves and I know by the way one of his legs brush mine that's he's brought his knees up and is resting an arm across them. Being tall is not comfortable on these beds. I would know.
"I could make an excuse, but I won't. I didn't know she was a Demon at the time. But my actions are still the same. She's not the only one. The only Demon, but not the only girl."
My voice is small when I speak again.
"Why are you telling me this?" I ask
"Because I don't want you to idolize me. And don't pretend you don't feel disgust. I made my reputation. I can't change it, and I don't know that I would now. My mistakes have shaped me. I think in the end, I've overcome them."
I don't doubt this, but he's right. I feel jaded by his confession. I think maybe I have been too sheltered. Conor sighs before moving off the bed.
"Go to sleep, Emma."
I hear him climbing to the bunk above mine.
"You're going to need the rest. Tomorrow you won't be with the other hybrids. You'll be faced with full blooded Demons."
His words don't comfort me. And as I fall asleep, all I can think is, my Guardian is not perfect. He is fallible. He is real.
Chapter 23
Conor
I don't sleep. I stare up at the ceiling's exposed beams instead. They are grey and charcoal. Gargoyles can see in the dark but only in various shades of grey. I suddenly hate the ability. I can't get past the last look Emma had given me. It hadn't been disgust exactly. Disappointment, maybe. Disappointment is worse.
Emma is sleeping below me, tossing restlessly, and I wonder if the emotions in the other room are seeping into her sleep. If they are, I need to be on alert. If she's a sleep walker, she can be more than just a little dangerous. Being insensible with amazing powers equals horrible destruction. But then again, I'm in the mood for a fight.
"It might help if you count sheep," Emma says suddenly from below me. It startles me, and I freeze before smiling. The words are familiar ones, and I remember another night, me on the floor, Emma on my bed.
"Counting doesn't help," I say, throwing her words back at her.
She laughs a little, and for a moment I let myself pretend I'm not her Guardian, that it isn't my duty to keep her in line. She's made me more aware of my hatred for Demons, and I'm beginning to realize it isn't all fair.
"Did I wake you?" I ask.
She rolls again.
"You're worried," she says.
Emotions are messing with her dreams, but they aren't coming from the main room. They belong to me. I'm not sure how to answer her. Worried is a mild word for the chaos going on in my head.
"I'm fine, Em. Go to sleep."
I force my mind blank, thinking instead about the next day, the trials ahead. There is rustling below, and Emma is still. Without my stress, she is finally able to sleep. But my body won't let me join her. I am too keyed up.
The Acropolis is a good idea. The school is transforming hybrid Demons, turning them from Hell's ranks and bringing them over to our cause. But Luther is right. The school is a prison. Each student is guarded, the violent are put to death, and the non-violent are forced into compliance. They don't choose to join our ranks. We need change.
I pull my cell phone out of my pocket, my fingers running silently over the keys. The cell phone belongs to the Inner Circle. All calls are traced. I shove it under my pillow and stare at the ceiling.
I'm not sure I sleep, but there is suddenly sound in the room beyond, and I know the other students are stirring. I sit up, propelling myself over the side of the bed before opening a drawer in a table nearby. Emma's clothes sit on top, and I avoid staring at them as I pull out an extra pair of jeans and a t-shirt Will has left behind for me. I notice the shirt is red. It matches Emma's. Apparently, Will is still upset about Emma's treatment in class the day before. Guardians never wear the same color as the hybrids. It suggests unity.
I change quickly before turning to the bed. Emma is sprawled on her stomach, one pajama clad leg hanging out from under the comforter, the other tangled in the sheets. Her hair hangs in a tangled mess around her face. She has a fist against her cheek. Her other hand is tucked under her pillow, and her lips are parted slightly. She doesn't snore, but I wouldn't be surprised if she drools.
I pinch my lips together to keep from smiling as I make my way over to her side, poking her gently between her shoulder blades. She swats at my hand, and I poke her again. This time she opens an eye and immediately jumps.
"Geez!" she shrieks.
She hits her head on the bunk above her, and she rubs at the spot as she scowls at me. I lose the smiling battle.
"Do you ever cuss, Em?" I ask.
She rubs her red-rimmed eyes and looks around the room, her gaze landing on the pile of clothes.
"I don't guess so," she says as she climbs out of the bed, moving over to the table slowly. "I've never really thought about it. I guess I don't see any point in it."
I am suddenly taken aback by the differences in us. Her mother is a Demon. She has the blood of monsters, and she is innocent, straight forward, and clean-mouthed. I'm a Guardian, a gargoyle whose destiny has always been to protect, and I lack all of the same qualities. I keep hearing Luther's voice in my head. The lines are blurred, Reinhardt. The lines are blurred.
"Get dressed. I'll wait outside. There's a brush in the drawer."
Emma nods, her hand rubbing self-consciously at the tangles in her dark hair. It's probably the first time she's had to worry about looking presentable for anyone in the morning. I want to tell her it doesn't bother me, but I don't.
I walk out, closing the door behind me and wait, my arms crossed as I face the outer room. Curious gazes meet mine, but I keep my expression even. Most of the Guardians are up and alert. The hybrids are sluggish. A few still sit o
n bottom bunks. A male hybrid I don't know rubs his hands over his face before throwing a shirt at another male hybrid across the room.
"Dude, you have got to quit putting your shit in my space. It can't be that hard to remember which bunk is yours."
The other hybrid flips him off and changes shirts.
"Sleep well, Reinhardt?" a female voice asks, but I ignore it. Showing any reaction will only feed Lyre's anger.
The door creaks open from behind me, and I turn to see Emma standing uncertainly in the open entrance. She's in the red t-shirt and jeans, both obviously borrowed. She isn't having luck in the shirt department. People keep assuming she's not as tall as she is, and she pulls at the hem as the room beyond grows quiet. Our shirts have garnered attention. I don't make excuses.
"Everyone to the showers!" Grace Withers shouts, and I'm more than a little grateful for her interference.
The Demons move, but they don't do it without complaint. Emma showered the night before separately, but she'll need to use the bathroom regardless.
"Anyone got an extra kit?" I ask as Emma and I move toward the other Guardians. Grace nods and reaches into a trunk at the end of her bunk. She throws a small green nylon bag in my direction, and I catch it easily before handing it off to Emma.
"Toothbrush, toothpaste . . . you name it," I say as she looks at it curiously. "There's a girl's shower to the right of the entrance."
Emma nods, and I barely glance at the other Guardians before heading in that direction. The door to the residence hall opens, and I see Will enter from the grounds beyond as Emma leaves me. I glare as I settle back against the wall. It's not safe for me to be too far away from Emma. Will grins.
"Bad morning?" he asks.
"You'd know wouldn't you?" I spit back.
Will's brow furrows.
"No," he says slowly. "What's with the attitude?"
I pull at my shirt.
"Red, Will?"
He had seen Emma entering the restroom, and his eyes narrow.
"It wasn't me."
We look at each other.
"Deidra!" we say simultaneously.
Imps! It's simply a pair of shirts, but they make a big statement. It's going to cause problems.
"Just switch with me," Will says easily.
He pulls a navy tee over his head and hands it to me. I pull mine off and do the same. Will isn't quite as broad as I am in the shoulders, but because of his height, we still wear the same size.
"Guess what the Circle has captured for training?" Will says conversationally. I barely glance at him, my eyes on the bathroom.
"Right now, I'm hoping you say a full-blooded imp."
Will is quiet. Too quiet. I look up.
"What did they capture?"
Will's gaze meets mine.
"A drex."
Chapter 24
Emma
The bathroom is inhabited by at least thirteen she-Demons, and I am not prepared for the emotions that slam into me. It is mostly curiosity, although the anger and hatred I feel at my back is most definitely Lyre.
"How did you manage to get assigned Conor Reinhardt as a Guardian?" a blonde-haired girl asks me from the sinks.
I open the kit Conor gave me and settle in next to her. She is tall. Her head comes to my neck, and she has wide blue-grey eyes. She runs a toothbrush through her mouth before spitting loudly.
"I don't know what you mean by did," I say honestly.
The girl shakes her head.
"Let me guess, you're an adoption case?"
I nod.
"We don't get many of those, but when we do, they are almost as naive as you. I'm Fiona, by the way," Fiona says as she offers me her hand.
I take it without thinking, and I am immediately thrown to the floor. My hand is on fire. Fiona chuckles, and then offers me her hand again. I shake my head and stand on my own.
"Electricity," Fiona explains. "I have an affinity with it. I'm all about laying what we're capable of right out on the table."
"I'll remember that next time," I grouse as I turn the sink on, letting the cold water relieve the burning welt now on my palm.
I look up into the mirror and grimace. The last couple of days have not been kind to me. There are dark circles under my eyes and wounds on my head. Thankfully, these are all covered by my hair, but I'm pretty sure the back of my head can't take any more damage.
"You could heal those, you know," Fiona says, and I glance at her. She is watching my reflection.
"Heal what?"
She gestures at my palm, my head.
"Your mother is Enepsigos. She has healing abilities."
I run a yellow-handled toothbrush through my mouth as I contemplate her words. Healing abilities?
"How do you all know so much about me?" I ask after I rinse and spit.
Fiona's eyes widen.
"Are you kidding me? You're the daughter of Enepsigos. Not only that, you are the only known half-mortal child of Enepsigos. Everyone knows about you. Especially Hell, and I would know because I lived there until I was ten."
I'm dumbstruck.
"You lived in Hell?" I ask.
Fiona shrugs.
"I did until it got too dangerous for hybrids. There's so many of us now that if one of us ends up dead down there no one cares. My mother sent me to live with my father's family here on Earth. Then two years ago, the Acropolis was opened, and I have been here ever since."
I still can't wrap my head around the fact that she has lived in Hell. Hell.
"Oh," I say finally. "Who is your mother?"
I'm finding it a little intimidating that everyone seems to know exactly who my Demon parent is and what kind of abilities I should have. Everyone but me.
Fiona smiles.
"Ephippas. I like fire and electricity, and I am hell on trees. I can kill any kind of vegetation in less than two seconds," she says proudly.
I honestly don't find the ability appealing, but I feign being impressed. My eyes move back to my reflection, and I touch my hair.
"Can you show me how to heal the wounds," I ask timidly.
The whole room goes quiet. I have a habit of silencing crowds. The only sound is the hiss of running water.
"You want me to help you?" Fiona finally asks, her words sharp.
I look around cautiously, taking in the narrowed gazes and gaping mouths.
"Ummm . . . I was hoping you would?"
The words were meant to be a statement of fact, but it comes out sounding like a question. Fiona clears her throat.
"We don't help each other here," she says firmly.
Again, I'm dumbstruck.
"Why?" I ask, genuinely curious.
Fiona looks at the other Demons. And then I feel it . . . fear. They fear each other. They fear their own greed. Fiona turns away suddenly, and then hands me a ponytail holder.
"You'll need this," she says before packing up her kit and walking away.
Conor is wrong. Demons are not without fear, but their fear is deeper. They fear power as much as they crave it. There is something wrong with this school. Conor and I have showed up at a bad time. Only a few days in, and I realize the school Conor believes in, the one he believes this school to be, isn't that school at all.
Chapter 25
Conor
Emma exits the bathroom with her hair braided and an expression that oozes contemplation. Lyre, Fiona, Hesther, and Gwenyth exit behind her, their faces full of bemusement. I avoid their gazes.
"Make any friends?" I ask as I push away from the wall.
Will whistles next to me. He's noticed the she-Demons' expressions too. Emma's face reddens.
"I'm not sure I did."
"You always have me!" a young female voice suddenly chirps, and I groan.
Will chuckles.
"Might should have stayed in your room today, Deidra," Will says on a laugh.
Deidra's eyes widen as her gaze meets mine.
"Oh."
"Yeah . . . oh," I say befo
re waving at the door. "But luckily for you, Little Imp, I've got bigger issues."
My statement catches Emma's attention.
"What kind of issues?" she asks.
Will nods at Deidra, and I take Emma by the arm, leading her from the residence hall to the grounds of the estate. Emma will train alone this morning, her focus on attacking and defending against true Demons. She has been sought out twice by Satan's army, in Atlanta and at my home. She needs some sort of fighting knowledge.
"You're training with Luther today," I say as I guide her toward a forest behind the chateau.
There is a small one room cabin among the trees used to test students. It is also used to test gargoyles training to be Guardians. Beyond the woods is another home, not as large as the Acropolis but equally impressive that houses gargoyle trainees. It isn't considered a school. It's too unstructured for that. It is only used to train escorts who are being promoted. Everything else is done in the field. We are all about on the job training.
"I think I told you last night that you will be facing a full-blooded Demon today," I say. Emma nods. "But I wasn't expecting the Demon that's been selected."
Emma quits walking.
"You feel reluctant and . . . and anxious maybe?"
I turn to look at her.
"Seriously, Em, this whole reading my emotions thing is unnerving."
Her face flushes.
"What am I supposed to face?" she asks.
I stare into the woods, my body on full alert.
"It's called a drex. It's not the Demon's official name. It's one we gargoyles have created for simplicity. It looks like a smaller version of a dragon and a tyrannosaurus rex. You don't want to be caught by it."
Emma swallows hard.
"I'm afraid to ask why," she says slowly.
There is no time to prepare her for the drex's brutality.
"They eat flesh."
Emma's face drains of blood, and her lips flatten. But as scared as her expression is, her eyes redden, and I am suddenly glad that she is who she is. Fear makes her stronger. It heightens her senses, her emotions.