by Elodie Colt
“How much older do we get?” I asked straight away.
Scott smiled as if he’d expected the question. “Hmm, in general about two hundred years.”
His words rang in my ears. I gulped and clutched the desk in front of me as my heart sank. No way did I want to live that long. Not if my life continued like this. God, this was a nightmare…
“Just joking, just joking! Jeez, don’t die of a heart attack on me. Jimmy would kill me,” he tried to calm me down, but he was still laughing his ass off.
“That’s not funny. Don’t use my lack of knowledge to mock me,” I exclaimed but couldn’t help the little smile forming on my face.
“Right, sorry. It’s not much different. Roes tend to live a little over a hundred years, although we don’t know exactly about Naturals. So, you can look forward to when you’ll be sixty and still look forty!”
I sighed in relief. I could live with that, although if the stakes were high, I wouldn’t survive long considering my ‘attack’ rate had increased exponentially over the last few days.
“I’ll see you in my next class, okay?” Scott said, and I left the classroom with whirling thoughts in my mind.
It was all too much to process. It seemed like everything I’d known about the world I lived in had been built on a lie. And Shawna had to give her life because of it.
Just as I pulled Scott’s paper schedule from my bag to check when I had to go down to the training halls, I felt a presence behind my left shoulder.
“I like your eyes,” a soft male voice purred in my ear, making me jump in surprise. He smiled at me as his gaze swept over my face. “David,” he introduced himself offering me his hand to shake.
Black hair framed his face, and his appion eyes flashed with the already too familiar Flare. Now that I knew what to look for exactly, I could make out the different shades in the rare color—azure, turquoise, silvery gray… Unbelievable, I’d never noticed before.
“Um, hi,” I mumbled tentatively. As I became pretty much detached from the social world over the last few years, I wasn’t used to attention or compliments, but it was nice to see that there was at least one who wasn’t busy with dissing me like the rest.
David laughed when he noticed my discomfort. “Don’t be so shy, I don’t bite.” And suddenly his hand was on my hip. Okay, he was fast. “You wanna meet later in the afternoon? I can show you my abilities.”
The way he emphasized the word didn’t leave much to the imagination to which abilities he meant. He lifted his arm and pumped his biceps that bulged and became bigger by the second until veins protruded sharply from under his skin. A Shifter as it seemed, but I stayed unfazed. The guy quickly fell downward in my personal ranking.
“Uh, I don’t think that’s…”
“Haylie! I’ve been looking for you,” someone shouted over the crowd before I could come up with an excuse.
Chris strode over to me, and I was shocked again to see how handsome he was. He wore dark blue jeans, a gray vintage t-shirt layering his well-defined muscles, and black leather cuffs on his wrists. His blond hair was styled in a disheveled look becoming more pronounced when he brushed his hand through it. His metrosexual appearance gave him such a sexy bad-guy label, I didn’t notice I’d stopped breathing altogether. I wasn’t one of the girls to stare holes in every cuteness passing me, but Chris was one-of-a-kind eye candy and gathering from the female heads shooting in his direction, I wasn’t the only one affected.
He stopped in front of me, giving me a killer smile Lauren would call ‘drool-over-worthy.’
“And I found you,” he finished in a sexy voice that did crazy things to my belly. His gaze flipped over to the boy who at least had the decency to remove his hand from my hip. Chris kept his smile in place, but his look changed from an inviting to a challenging one. “David. As far as I know, you have training with Lisa in a few minutes.”
The boy lost his flirty demeanor at hearing Chris’ dark tone. “Maybe another time,” he mumbled to me and turned on his heels apparently not keen on putting up a fight with Chris. I reckoned that Chris had some reputation here. I didn’t doubt he could squish the boy like a fly with a body like that, no matter how big David could make his biceps appear.
“Did he harass you?” Chris asked with concern, his smile gone. “He can be an asshole sometimes.”
“Uh, no. He just… no, he didn’t,” I muttered.
Chris frowned. “This won’t be the last time. It’s not every day we have a stunning Natural in the compound.” His directness surprised me. I felt the redness rise in my cheeks, and Chris shot me a crooked grin. “Let’s go for a walk. You still have time before your next class,” he offered and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me. At least his touch felt a little more welcoming.
“How do you know about my schedule? And why does everyone always know so much about me, and I don’t know shit?” I complained causing Chris to chuckle.
“Because it’s our job to know.”
“Where are we going?” I asked when he steered me around a corner. I could have followed him, but for some reason, he didn’t remove the hand from my back determined to stay behind me.
“Lunch. I’ll show you our canteen. And… today is lasagna day. George makes the best lasagna I’ve ever eaten. You’ll love it,” he informed me with a wink that could leave a trail of pining hearts behind.
We made our way down the stairs and passed the main hall I’d already noticed when Cassie had brought me here. There were fewer students currently fighting as most of them must have gone to lunch, but I saw Sarah sorting out all kinds of weapons on the other side. She waved when she spotted me and gave me a thumbs-up from afar. I waved back with a smile.
“She likes you,” Chris commented when he followed my gaze.
“Sarah? I don’t know about that. It was her idea to make ‘hazelnut’ my new nickname,” I told him dryly, causing Chris to snort.
“That’s harmless. Cassie had worse nicknames in all her years here, believe me. Ah, speak of the devil,” Chris muttered into my ear, sending shivers over my body. He was so close, I could smell his rich fragrance consisting of aftershave, fresh clothing, and something sweet I couldn’t identify.
Cassie sashayed in our direction, her high heels clicking on the floor in a fast and determined rhythm. She passed us with her chin held high, her blonde hair waving behind her, and shot me a poisoned look. My eyes flew to the floor and stayed there which didn’t go unnoticed by Chris.
“Don’t let her intimidate you, she’s not worth it,” Chris advised, clearly unhappy with my reaction.
I exhaled slowly. “She has every right to hate me.”
“No, she hasn’t. Cassie hates everyone without a reason. Why do you even think that?”
I gave him a surprised look, lifting a brow. “You know why.”
Chris only stared back in bewilderment. “No, I don’t.”
Jesus, was he going to force me to say it out loud? “Ricky,” I whispered, but before I could elaborate, Chris came to an abrupt stop grabbing my wrist and spinning me around so I had to face him.
“Cassie didn’t give a shit about Ricky,” he spat. “That’s not the reason for her behavior, I can assure you. Stop blaming yourself for Ricky’s death. It wasn’t your fault,” Chris countered sternly as his gaze flew to the bruise on my neck.
He lifted my hand and stroked it slightly with a finger. How long did I know this guy? Five minutes? And he was already crossing the blurry line between comradeship and intimacy. Funny that it didn’t bother me at all.
“And Dylan knows that, too, he just needs someone to blame right now.”
“Then what’s Cassie’s problem?” I wanted to know. Again, Chris gave me his crooked smile, all seriousness gone.
“Apart from the fact that she resents every girl who’s prettier than her, she loathes you because you’re keeping Dylan’s mind occupied since you appeared on our radar. In her eyes, you’re stealing her attention.”
/> I ignored the first comment for lack of a witty answer on my part and steered the subject into a safer direction. “Cassie has a thing for Dylan?”
Chris sighed deeply, sounding bored. “Always has, always will. No matter how hard he tries to get rid of her.” I could only imagine what a lovely girlfriend Cassie would be which was funny considering Dylan didn’t strike me as the nice and sweet charmer, either. They would make a perfect couple, right?
The canteen was a big, rectangular hall filled with at least fifty tables. One wall was covered in deco stuff, pictures, and abstract paintings giving the whole room a warmer atmosphere. To me, it looked more like I’d imagine a prison’s dining hall with all the stone, concrete, and the lack of windows. Well, we were underground after all.
We got in line with the others, and Chris ordered two sodas for us. Half of the tables were occupied with students chattering over their lunch. George’s lasagna must have been popular as I could see the Italian meal on every single plate.
With one exception.
Dylan sat at one of the tables to the left with his back to me, a huge steak with a portion of scrambled eggs on his plate. Opposite him sat Scott talking to Dylan with tomato sauce sticking in the corner of his mouth. It seemed the lasagna was good enough for Scott’s sensitive taste.
Scott saw me looking at him and winked. Dylan followed his gaze. Oh, shit. I didn’t want to be caught ogling, but Dylan’s unrelenting glare trapped me for a moment. At first, his expression didn’t give anything away, but then his gaze flipped over to Chris, and I watched his jaw clench.
Clearing my throat, I turned back to Chris and took a tray from the stack. He wasn’t oblivious to Dylan’s killer looks, but it didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.
“Yeah, Cassie has every reason to be worried about Dylan and me because we’re that close,” I said sarcastically and lifted my hand, crossing my middle finger over my forefinger to make my point. He laughed and put a bottle of soda on my tray.
With two pieces of lasagna dripping cheese on our plates, Chris walked over to a free table in the middle. He grabbed his fork, put a huge piece of lasagna into his mouth, and started to moan so loudly that the people at the nearest tables shot him weird looks.
“Heaven on earth.” He munched with closed eyes, prompting me to snort. I cut off a piece and when I tasted it, I nearly let out a noise of pleasure myself.
“Oh my God, this is so delicious,” I exclaimed and earned a huge grin from Chris.
“Told ya. So, how was your first lesson today?”
I took a sip from my soda. “Interesting. Confusing. Mind-fucking…” I trailed off, heaving a sigh. “I feel like a freaky mutant. I mean, no X-chromosome?” I whisper-yelled, afraid to draw attention, although chances were high I was the only one who’d been clueless until now. “How crazy is that?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re a hundred percent female,” Chris retorted staring brazenly at my breasts. Despite me wearing a long black shirt covering my upper half, I still felt as if he could see right through the fabric. Men.
I took my napkin, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into his face making it bounce off his jaw. “Hey! It’s hard enough that everyone seems to be staring at one pair of my eyes,” I exhorted and got another chuckle from Chris.
“What’s your ability?” I asked him when his eyes refocused on my face.
“What do you think?” he countered, lifting his arm and pumping his biceps once to give me a clue. My eyes stayed glued there for a moment too long watching his muscles flex under his skin.
“Hmm…” I pretended to ponder about my answer tapping a forefinger on my chin. “You have such tiny ears, you’re certainly no Catcher,” I mocked, and Chris let his arm slump down pretending to be hurt.
“I don’t have tiny ears. I just have small earlobes,” he jested back causing me to chuckle.
“So, you’re a Fighter?” Chris nodded around another mouthful of lasagna. The news didn’t surprise me. There was no denying he was in good shape.
“Like Dylan,” Chris added, and that surprised me even less.
Dylan’s huge frame was covered in muscles, and if the scar on his face was anything to go by, he’d already had his fair share of battles. I briefly wondered who would win if Chris fought Dylan. Chris seemed to read my silent question.
“Dylan’s stronger. He’s the strongest of us all. No one ever beat him.”
Now that did surprise me and simultaneously answered my question about the winner. I swallowed my bite of lasagna. “No one?”
Chris half nodded, half shook his head. “Maybe except for Jimmy, but whenever they fight, it ends in a draw. Jimmy can’t beat Dylan with strength, but Dylan isn’t as fast as Jimmy. A never-ending fight isn’t very exciting to watch. The last time they fought for over two hours until Sarah called it quits.”
Jimmy against Dylan. As boring as Chris made it sound, I’d love to see that. “So, Fighters are stronger than others?”
“Yes,” he answered after taking a gulp from his soda. “It’s easier for us to gain muscles, but we have to train a lot as well. We don’t tire out too easily, have more endurance, coordination, and excellent reflexes. We are born athletes. Our natural mechanism for burning calories works nearly twice as fast, which is also why we have to eat and drink very often and take good care of what we feed our bodies.”
“I guess if I’m ever in danger, my best shot is to call for you, right?” I asked in a flirtatious tone. Where did that come from? Somehow Chris made me act differently than usual, but it was definitely worth the dazzling smile I received.
“Probably, although a Racer can act quicker. Sometimes, but that depends on many factors, we can feel when danger is near, or when someone is watching us. I can’t describe it because sometimes it happens and sometimes not,” he explained. “It also depends on the surroundings. It’s hard to feel anything here in this compound where we’re surrounded by concrete and stone.”
I nodded, thinking back to the night Dylan fought the Hunters invading my apartment. He’d sensed them before they made an appearance in my backyard.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, Chris shooting me questioning looks now and then. Maybe he feared I was close to a breakdown from a mental overload, but he didn’t need to worry. I’d had my mental breakdown last night in the cemetery in front of the only person I never wanted to witness it. Ugh. Just thinking about it made me want to slap myself.
“And Jimmy’s a Racer, right?” I pressed further to get rid of my humiliating thoughts.
“Yep.”
“How fast can he run?”
“I think his last track was nearly fifty miles per hour.”
I choked on my soda and coughed a few times to clear my throat, tears springing to my eyes. “What? You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He’s one of the best. He trains every day for four or five hours. He needs more additional nutrition than we do as he burns so many calories at once. That ability isn’t just about running, you know. It’s also about increasing your reflexes and your mental processing. Using your limbs at that rate is useless if you can’t comprehend it mentally just as fast. But, my advice,” Chris added, pointing his fork at me, “Never get into a car with Jimmy as the driver.”
Hmm. If someone could run nearly as fast as a car on the highway, then I could only imagine how he would treat a four-wheeler.
“What about Cassie’s ability?” I wanted to know, playing absently with the cap of my soda bottle. This subject had piqued my interest ever since I’d learned about the seven races.
Chris let out a sigh. “Shifting is a rare ability and needs different training, especially mental training. There’s a lot that can go wrong if you don’t keep up a certain amount of concentration. Cassie was lucky her father was a Shifter, too, so she learned to handle it since she was a kid. She can only change certain parts of her body, although we guess the possibilities could be endless if you had decades of training. Cassie can change eye c
olor, hair color and length, and some of her features like making her nose smaller or something similar. When she came here, she used to meditate for hours before she managed to lengthen her hair a few inches. She has really improved since then.” It was clear from his tone, although he seemed annoyed by the bitchy blonde, he respected her and her talents.
“Sounds hard to do. Can she keep another appearance as long as she wants?”
“As far as I know, yes.” After finishing his meal, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and gave me a wicked grin. “Wanna hear something funny?”
I grinned back. “Sure.”
“Cassie likes to use her ability to her advantage. You know, making her lips fuller, making her hair brighter…” Chris rolled his eyes clearly not delighted about Cassie’s misuse of power. “Once, she was determined to make her breasts bigger, but it only worked halfway.”
“What do you mean?” The mental picture in front of my eyes looked pretty weird right now.
“She only managed for one breast to grow two sizes. See, shifting is not just about changing your appearance, it’s also about changing back, which costs you nearly the same amount of effort. So, Cassie managed to grow one breast, but it didn’t work with the other one, and she didn’t have any energy left to return to her regular size resulting in her wearing two different breast sizes for a whole day.”
I couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that erupted. I wasn’t a mischievous personality by any means, but the mental image of Cassie with two different sized boobs was quickly branding my brain.
“Yeah. No one would have noticed if she’d done it in small steps, but no, she had to grow to a cup C from a cup A.”
I was laughing so hard, tears were running down my face, and Chris couldn’t help himself but laugh as well. “Great. Now I’ll always visualize Cassie with deformed boobs whenever I see her.” I giggled wiping a tear away from my cheek.
Chris grunted. “Never use ‘Cassie’ and ‘visualize’ in the same sentence. I’ve seen things of Cassie I’d rather erase from my mind forever,” he moaned with a distant look in his eyes. Must have been a really bad memory then.