by May Dawson
The warlock smiles faintly at that. “Yes, I do understand that perspective. All right—all of you get out of here. I don’t want to see you cut class again, do you hear me?”
We all agree. As soon as the warlock releases us, the four of us head in a hurry out of the house.
We’re back to the Nephilim house, in Ever’s room, before Julian turns on him.
Julian’s face is tight as he studies Ever. “Were you about to influence an instructor? A witch, at that?”
Ever shrugs. “He could’ve sent Eden to the detention center. We all know how dangerous that is for her right now.”
“For glamouring an instructor? They’d send you to the detention center and throw away the key until the Culling.” Julian’s hot voice sends a spike of fear through my chest. The image of Ever, weak and disoriented from the punishment of the detention center as he goes to the Culling, burns into my brain.
Ever shrugs. “What do you care?”
Julian’s eyes widen. “What do I care?”
He looks around at the rest of us as if he’s searching for help.
Lincoln crosses his arms, resting his broad shoulder against the wall. “Ever has a point. He’s been to detention before. You didn’t seem particularly concerned.”
Julian’s jaw is tight, but he shakes his head. “We need to talk about what Eden saw in her memories.” His gaze locks on mine. “Are you okay? Did you get what you needed?”
“No.” My voice sounds hollow.
Julian’s hand presses my lower back, drawing me toward him. “I’m sorry, Eden,” he murmurs as he pulls me into his arms. At first, I think he’s being ridiculous, and then I’m surprised to find myself melting into his hug. I rest my cheek against his chest.
“Maybe if we had more time,” I mutter. “Maybe Alyssa will be willing to do it again.”
“Maybe.” Julian glances past me at Lincoln, frowning. Then he glances at Ever a bit more skeptically. “It’s not wise to play games with witches. In case you were thinking of…encouraging…Alyssa to try again.”
Ever shrugs. “I didn’t influence her.”
“Really?” Julian asks skeptically, voicing the question written across Lincoln’s face.
“She actually is my friend.” Ever’s voice is dry, but he doesn’t betray much irritation at how bizarre the two of them find that idea. “When I didn’t have great friends in the Nephilim house, I went looking. So thanks for that.”
Lincoln sighs through his nose and ignores Ever. “What did you see?”
“I saw…” The night with my grandfather wasn’t important. It wasn’t one of those sharp childhood memories that bite into one’s skin and never leaves; I don’t know why my mind took me back there. “I couldn’t get to the right place. I remembered that night we rescued the angel. And I remembered…”
I glance away. “I remembered the night I killed David.”
“He had it coming to him,” Ever says, his voice tight with rage, and Lincoln glances at him sharply.
Right.. The guys knew that something happened, but no one knew the details besides Ever—who I’d begun sleeping with soon after. I’d felt like I had to tell Ever that I still felt David’s hands on my body on a bad night, and Ever had been tender and done his best to let me heal from those memories.
And Richmond knew. Richmond, who drove out there to wrap the body in a tarp.
It was Richmond who had hugged me and told me that I did nothing wrong, that it wasn’t my fault, that some men just need killing. Then he’d had me drive his car home to Elliot, my legs shaking, and he’d taken David’s truck with the body in the back. He’d burned that bloodstained blanket from which the two of us had watched the stars.
I cleared my throat. None of that was important. Richmond had moments of kindness and decency. But they were only moments.
“David looked familiar,” I say. “I never realized, but… he looks like Michael Kinley.”
“You think they’re related,” Julian asks.
I nod. “Michael had the means to change the detention center. And now I think he had a motive.”
“How would he even know you were the one who killed David?” Ever demands. “Unless someone talked…”
“Richmond knew, and I don’t know who he told,” I said. “And Ever…”
I can’t bring myself to say that I don’t know who Ever told, but his jaw tightens.
“So Kinley would have had to know someone in the Lords,” Julian finishes. “But from what Gabriel said, the Sent agents had one-on-one contact with their sources and guarded their identities, even from other Sent. So Kinley and Elliot shouldn’t have been talking.”
There’s a quick knock on the door. We exchange glances, Lincoln straightening from the wall as if he’s ready for a fight.
“It’s Bright,” Gabriel calls through the door. Julian doesn’t look any more thrilled than he already did, but he moves to open the door.
He looks exasperated when he walks in. “I had a call from the head of the witches’ house. You’re all quite lucky he came to me and not to Michael.”
“Yes, I feel lucky right now.” I move aside Julian’s colored pencils, and boost myself up to sit on the edge of his desk.
“Good thing you weren’t there with us,” Lincoln tells Gabriel, who gives him a hard stare in return.
We fill Gabriel in on what happened.
He rubs the back of his neck as he frowns. “Eden, there’s a big gap between your story and what everyone in the Sent believes happened to Michael Kinley’s family.”
“His family?” I ask, because I don’t know anything about his family besides David.
Gabriel nods. “Michael Kinley’s family was murdered by the Lords. His younger brother David, his little sister Agnes, his parents. They were all murdered in their beds. Richmond was wanted for the crime, although if the Sent ever caught him, he never would’ve lived long enough to see justice.”
“How come that’s the first we’ve heard of it?” Julian demands.
“It was all kept quiet. We figured the Lords discovered Kinley’s true identity, even though he had changed his name to protect his family, and we didn’t want to encourage any more reprisals.”
“No,” Ever says, crossing his arms. “You mean you didn’t want to discourage people from joining the Sent. Because if they thought their families would be in so much danger, they might not sign up to save the world from the Lords.”
There’s a bitter twist to Ever’s voice.
“Think what you like,” Gabriel shoots back. “The Sent protect humanity.”
I shake my head. “That’s not true. I mean, I was a Lord and I killed David, but I didn’t…” I shake my head.
“I know,” Gabriel says quietly. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Any more blood on your hands, Eden?” Lincoln asks suddenly. “It’s going to be difficult to suss out just who your enemies are if you keep surprising us with new body bags.”
Ever takes a step toward him, but I grab his arm.
“No thanks, Ever,” I tell him. “I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me. Especially when it’s just Lincoln.”
Ever’s lips twitched.
I meet Lincoln’s gaze evenly, the disquiet in my stomach igniting into fury. “I think that’s it. My grandfather, David, nineteen asshole lords. And you should be thankful it’s not twenty-two.”
Lincoln’s face doesn’t change, but his eyes blaze. Julian whistles.
“Let’s stay focused,” Gabriel says. “I asked around, but I can’t find anyone at the detention center who will admit that Eden’s experience was…manipulated.”
“What about the golem?” Ever demands. “Anything we can track down there? To tie Michael to?”
“There are plenty of people at this school who could raise a rough golem like the one we saw,” Gabriel says. “Any Nephilim included, if they learned how. If there had been more of a polish on the golem, like the guards and the dean’s receptionist—”
> “Natalia is a golem?” I demand.
Gabriel frowns at the interruption, but nods.
“That is so creepy,” I mutter.
“Making a golem like Natalia takes a lot of skill and effort,” Gabriel continues. “If you’d been attacked by someone who looked human, we’d have a narrower suspect pool. But that kind of golem—it could be almost anyone.”
“Fantastic,” I say. “Okay, tell us more about how Michael lost his family. There has to be something there.”
“He hates the Lords,” Gabriel said, frowning. “He and I worked individually most of the time, but we were partners on and off until we came here. I worried about him when we were assigned to watch over you at the hospital.”
Gabriel gave me a look. “Not that we were very successful at watching over you.”
I shrug. Not sorry. “What were you worried about, specifically?”
“He was happy all those Lords were dead,” Gabriel said. “Not that the Sent are particularly fond of any of the Lords, but the way he hated them… I almost worried he might kill you too while you were helpless in that hospital bed.”
“Relevant information,” Ever said.
“I forgot until now, all right?” Gabriel said. “It wasn’t something I was truly afraid of, or I would’ve refused to leave him alone with you.”
“You left him alone with me? While I was unconscious?” The most creepy feeling swept up my spine. I could just imagine Michael sitting on the edge of my bed, watching me.
He nods. “Yeah. Of course. And you were alone with the guard when he was called away to—well, that’s not important. It turned out you weren’t helpless at any point.”
I wish I felt like I’d never been helpless.
“It’s none of our business,” Julian mouths. “Since we’re not Sent.”
“That’s right.” Gabriel says. “I know you all might not think much of the Sent, but that’s your prerogative as a bunch of criminals.”
“Feeling the love,” Julian murmurs. “We’re a great team.”
“Focus.” I chide them all. “Okay, Kinley claims he hates us because we killed his family. But I killed David, no one else. I never would’ve hurt anyone else.” I run my fingers through my hair absently. “Richmond came and took David’s body. And his truck. Where was his truck found?”
“His truck?” Gabriel frowns. “I’ll pull all the records from that case.”
“Tell us the highlights of Kinley’s story,” I say, and Gabriel frowns more deeply. He doesn’t like my attitude.
I cross my arms. “I know you want to believe the Sent are all good guys, but I’m trying to save my own life here.”
“I know,” he says curtly. “I’m just thinking about what’s classified and what you can know—”
“We’re trying to protect Eden.” Lincoln takes a step toward him, anger flaring in his eyes. “We can know any goddamn thing that will help us. And you’re going to tell us.”
Gabriel stares back at him, his eyes narrowing. I don’t know what would happen if Lincoln hit Gabriel—he is a teacher here, after all—and I don’t want to find out.
Gabriel suddenly smiles. “Look at you, Lincoln. You’re almost a team player now.”
Lincoln snorts at that and returns to leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.
Gabriel relents and fills us in on the story as he knows it. He was one of the Sent agents that went to the house where Michael Kinley’s human family lived.
He describes a home of shattered humans: the mother and stepfather found torn apart in their bedroom, as if they’d tried to fight back, David Kinley dead in the hall, Agnes—the child Nephilim—smothered in her bed.
I frown. “Michael’s mother and stepfather were brutally attacked, from the sounds of it.”
Gabriel nods. “I’ll never forget it.”
“And David…?”
“It looked as if he’d come to his parents’ defense, been surprised by the Lords. He’d been beaten to death—” Gabriel gives me an uncertain look. “You did that?”
“I’d have to see the photographs, if there are any in the file.” My stomach turns at the thought, but I won’t shy away from what I need to do. “Taking David out of the picture…the parents were brutally murdered.”
Gabriel nods, his mouth grim at the memories.
“But the child was killed…less…” I stumble over a way to phrase the terrible image in my mind. I can imagine a man with bloodied hands, coming into her room, whispering calming words before he picked up her pillow…
“She was ten,” Gabriel says. “Who could’ve hurt her?”
“Not one of us,” I say, glancing around at the guys. Their faces reflect my inner horror, in their own subtle ways; they never would have done such a thing. “But maybe, a brother, who wanted to kill his parents for some old grudge, or had something to hide…”
“You think David survived?” Julian asks.
“No,” I say. “I think Michael Kinley did.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“I think when David died, Michael needed to cover it up, and he murdered his family to do it.” I continue. “Because if people knew his brother was one of the Lords, they might suspect he was one too. Instead, his story just made him seem more loyal to the Sent.”
“I need to find out if David was a Sent spy posing as a Lord, or if he was sincere,” Gabriel says. “Because that will change why Michael might have been involved…if he was.”
I nod. Gabriel might not see my perspective right away. I’m accusing his own partner and one of our instructors of murdering his own family. But at least Gabriel is willing to explore the idea.
“I need to get to Sent headquarters,” Gabriel says, his face troubled. “I can’t talk about this on the open air. If I leave you, can you all…stay out of trouble?”
I give him my most innocent face, and from the corner of my eye, I see Julian do the same.
Gabriel groans.
Apparently, our best attempts at innocence are not convincing.
“Take care of each other?” Gabriel says, staring around at the four of us. “None of you should be alone.”
“We’ll hang together,” I say, throwing my arm over Julian’s shoulders because he’s my nearest victim. I gesture Lincoln in too, just to annoy him, but he raises an eyebrow and doesn’t move from where he stands with his arms over his chest.
Gabriel nods. “You better. I mean it. Go to your classes, but other than that, stay in the Nephilim house. Buddy system at all times.”
“Buddy system?” Julian’s eyebrows rise. “I don’t think you could have picked a worse phrase.”
“You need to get over it,” Gabriel says. “If you don’t get over your little feuds, you might very well get yourselves killed. Is it worth it?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no,” Julian says lightly.
Gabriel throws us a dark look, but lets it go. “If you need help, you can go to Esther. I trust her.”
None of us care much for that idea.
“Is she Sent too?” Lincoln asks roughly.
Gabriel shakes his head, refusing to answer. “I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve taught my classes tomorrow. All of you, just…”
“Be careful. I know.” I flash him a smile. “You be careful too. I don’t trust the Sent.”
He scoffs at that, but leaves.
Julian crosses his arms over his chest as he turns to me. “So. You and Gabriel.”
I cock an eyebrow back at him, although his words make my squirm on the inside. “How about you and Gabriel?”
“It’s just interesting how you and the professor eye-fuck,” he says. “I’m not judging.”
“Mm-hmm. You better not.”
Julian lets it drop then. But all the guys have this look on their faces, something between amused and a little bit disgusted. Or maybe jealous. It’s silly—with exceptions for the three of them, I’ve always used flirting as an offensive strategy. I’m just using Gabriel Bright.
R
ight?
The rest of the day, the four of us try to act normal—but that’s always a stretch.
“We don’t need to stay together in the cafeteria,” Ever says right before we head to lunch. “As long as we all leave at the same time.”
Lincoln grunts.
But when I’ve been through the lunch line, I carry my tray in with Lincoln lingering at my shoulder. I can’t decide if his hulking, watchful presence is comforting or annoying. Both, maybe. Why choose?
I set my tray on the table across from Ever, and Lincoln sits beside me.
“So we’re all staying together, all the time,” I say lightly. “Does that apply to the bedroom too?”
Julian grins. “In your dreams, Greyson.”
“Well.” I smile at him over my glass. “I do usually get what I want.”
Lincoln’s golden eyes lock on me. The words we traded up above the campus run through my mind again: Rarely does anyone give me what I want.
And his answer: I think you take what you want.
But sometimes, even I’m not sure how.
Lunch is tense and quiet.
Julian keeps up a constant running prattle about the other houses and about our fellow Nephilim. Bless him. I ask him questions, but I don’t think he needs much feedback to keep up a monologue.
Ever is quiet, although he adds little asides. I think maybe it’s hard for him to speak openly in front of Linc. Lincoln doesn’t talk, and that might be normal for him, but it still feels awkward right now.
And yet, despite how uncomfortable it is when we’re together, I can feel how much they don’t like leaving me when we split up for our Nephilim classes.
During class with Gabriel, I can’t stop thinking about what Julian said. I try to focus on his lecture on the ethics of using our angelic influence. He’s smart and funny, far more interesting than my other teachers here. I find myself studying his hands, his animated eyes as he teaches, his lips.
He made it clear with the way he looked at me the other day that he wasn’t interested. I’m usually good at reading people. But what did Julian see?
I try to take my time gathering my books after class, but a few other Nephilim girls seem to be taking their sweet time; they form a small ring in front of him, asking questions about the material. They seem very dedicated to learning.