Victor (The Eden East Novels Book 2)

by Sacha Black

  Victor

  Book 2 - The Eden East Novels

  Sacha Black

  Copyright

  Victor - The Eden East Novels

  Copyright © 2018 Sacha Black

  The right of Sacha Black to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted, without permission of the copyright owner. Except for a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  First Published July 2018, by Sacha Black, Atlas Black Publishing.

  Edited by: Esther Newton, Editing and Advice Service

  Cover design: Andrew Brown, Design For Writers

  www.sachablack.co.uk

  All rights Reserved

  For mum and dad. Thank you for giving me an imagination filled with a thousand worlds and a million stories.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Thank You

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Sacha Black

  Also by Sacha Black

  Glossary

  One

  There is only light and dark. Balance and Imbalance. Right and wrong. There are only two sides to every war - Balance Proverb

  When I kill someone, I expect them to stay dead. It’s only polite, after all. But Victor didn’t stay dead even after I stabbed a poisoned knife through his heart. When he gatecrashed my Coronation Ceremony two months ago, Victor was very much alive. No one’s seen him since, but I know he’s out there…watching and waiting.

  Steam rolls through the station, giant billowing clouds broken only by the occasional nervous Keeper wandering through the steam looking for luggage and friendly faces. My stomach twinges as I step off Trey’s train and onto Stratera’s platform.

  Trey steps down behind me and passes me my suitcase.

  “Are you ready?” he says, bending to kiss me.

  I close my eyes, leaning into him, inhaling the scent of his warm skin barely covered by his string vest. I look up and say, “Ish. Mostly I’m swinging between feeling sick with nerves and feeling sick with excitement.”

  He laughs as he touches his forehead to mine, “I can’t believe I’m finally here, and with you.”

  He picks me up, swings me around, and then pops me back on the floor, a grin spreading across his face lighting up his sparkling blue eyes.

  “Neither can I.” I wrap my arms around his neck and slide my lips over his. When I disentangle myself, I spot a hand waving at me behind him: Bo. She and Kato traveled on the public train as they met Bo’s parents early this morning for breakfast.

  Trey looks over his shoulder. “Go,” he says. “I’ll take our bags and meet all of you outside the station.”

  “Okay.”

  He kisses me on the forehead before walking away. Staring after him as his figure disappears into the shroud of smoke, my chest tightens. I still struggle to accept that he’s mine. I spent my whole life thinking I was fated to Victor, and now I’m with Trey it all feels too good, too dreamy. Part of me is terrified it’s all a giant mistake. That I’ll wake up any second and the First Fallon or Victor will have taken everything away from me.

  “What’s that face for?” Bo says as she reaches me.

  “Nothing,” I say, pasting on a smile. “I’m fine.”

  She shrugs and then wriggles her hips at me, “Do I look okay?”

  It takes everything for me not to roll my eyes. Of course she looks okay. Bo is the most flawless person I know. Her skin is always smooth and creamy-white like a perfect doll. She’s wearing fitted beige shorts to the knee, a corseted type top, which is now maroon instead of her usual black, something I suspect is to represent Kato - her Siren Balancer, as well as her usual fur cloak – an essential for any Northern Shifter. Where her right calf used to be is a prosthetic leg Titus and Lance made her. The cogs and brass tubing are shinier than normal; she must have polished it especially for today. Staring at her leg reminds me of Evelyn, and my chest tightens another notch. Evelyn is Trey’s old Balancer – she tore Bo’s leg off during the battle with Victor.

  “You look stunning. Been shopping, have we?” I say, trying to distract myself.

  “Kato treated me for the start of term. Guilt buys, I think.” She pulls her bright red lips into a smile but doesn’t look at me. Instead she pats her hair as if to check her bun is still immaculate, which of course, it is.

  “And you clearly accepted. So, I take it things are better?”

  She pouts. “Well, I wasn’t going to say no to this beauty, was I?” she says, pointing to her corset. “We’re… Better, I guess. But it’s infuriating. I can’t stay away from him for long because our Binding pulls me back. I mean, I love him, but I’m still going to make him suffer a bit for what he did.”

  Before the fight with Victor, Kato compelled Bo to give me some of her blood - blood that helped to end her brother’s life.

  We exit the platform to find Trey and Kato hovering with their suitcases on the other side of the street looking up at the academy campus, which is set at the top of a hill overlooking Siren City.

  Within seconds of leaving the station, a sticky sheen clings to my skin as the humid Southern sun bears down all hot and angry onto the street.

  It takes us ten minutes to reach the top of the hill. This high, you can see over the South and West State lines and it’s stunning. I look west, and in the distance right on the horizon is the skyline of Luna City’s network of thatched bungalows. Between us is the Trutinor coastline and the glittering Blood Ocean. I turn and scan the southern side and the valley that’s home to Siren City. Regal mansions made of marble and shimmering creams skim the skyline. We arrive at the front entrance, and after a few minutes of pulling maps out on our CogTrackers, we find our way around to the rear entrance where we’re due to meet the principal.

  I take a deep breath as we near a set of wrought iron gates. The four of us: me, Trey, Bo, and Kato, take tentative steps as we approach the towering black gates. Filigree twists decorate the tips of the iron poles, and in the center, where the round handles hang, a plaque reads:

  * * *

  WITH KNOWLEDGE SHALL WE JUDGE

  * * *

  The academy’s motto is a stark reminder of what we’re here to do: weigh the Balance of fate, and ensure the fate of humans and Keepers alike is carried out.

  “I’m nervous,” Bo says, glancing at the sign, “my stomach is all knotted with butterflies.”

  “Me too,” I say, slipping my hand into Trey’s. “I’m dreading being head girl.”

  “At least you
have a handsome head boy to accompany you,” Trey grins.

  “I heard it’s a lot of governors’ board meetings and administration,” Bo says, shrugging.

  As we rest our cases on the floor, I glance over to her, unsure of what that comment meant. We’re a little early, but already, the street is crawling with students from our year group at Keepers School as well as a myriad of faces I don’t recognize from other realms.

  I peer through the gate, into a flowering courtyard. It’s long and thin with a row of flower beds on either side. Down the center is a walkway and in the middle, a fountain that froths and bubbles as it showers its basin with watery spray. At the far end is a set of arches, and if I strain, through the arches is another courtyard which, I think, leads to the entrance.

  A tall female appears; she’s wearing fitted maroon trousers that hug her curves and a flowing white blouse. Her hair is short and flops in loose curls around her face, and her eyes are piercing blue. She’s a Siren.

  “Is that the head teacher?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Kato says, raising an eyebrow, “damn fine Siren too.”

  Bo digs her elbow into his ribs.

  “Er, highly skilled Siren. I meant highly skilled, obviously.”

  “Course you did,” she growls.

  I suppress a grin as the head teacher reaches the gates and unlocks them.

  “Welcome to Stratera Academy,” she says, pulling the gates wide open and gesturing for us to enter. “My name is Professor Astra.”

  She leads the now sizable group of Keepers through the first courtyard, under the arches, and into the second courtyard. This one is similar to the first but without the fountain.

  Standing on the opposite side of the courtyard is the academy building. It’s comprised of a bulbous square made of dark red bricks in the middle – the main building, according to my CogTracker map, is home to our lecture halls, theory classes, and the academy’s library. And on either side of it are white circular towers: practical simulators, fighting arenas, gyms, and testing zones.

  Professor Astra stops near a large oak door in the middle of the central brick building.

  “Welcome to Stratera Academy,” she starts. “It is both a great honor and testament to your dedicated studies that you have made it to the academy. But it is my duty to remind you of the great burden you bear as Keepers and Fallons in bringing to pass the judgment of fate. You are no longer apprentices. Here you will train both in the simulators and in the field alike, but unlike Keepers School, your field training is live, as will your exams be. And they’ll take place on Earth. As the humans say, you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

  She places her hand on the door, and as if under their own power, the doors swing open into a spacious foyer. The black and white checkered flooring clacks underfoot as I wander behind Professor Astra. Corridors shoot off at intermittent points down each side of the room two of which lead to the practice towers. In the corners of the room, two staircases spiral up to other floors. Then I notice an enormous door three times as tall as me, standing alone in the middle of the foyer, and I pull to a sudden stop. Trey, Bo, and Kato all career into my back.

  “What the hell?” Kato says, brushing himself down. I grab his chin and point his face toward the door.

  “Woah,” he breathes.

  The arched door frame is made of milky colored marble with a web of maroon veins spidering over it. The door itself is made of polished silver, or maybe it’s glass because as I circle the door, my face and the faces of my future classmates, all wearing the same bemused expression, are reflecting back at me. The most interesting part about the door is that there’s no handle. No way to open it.

  When our group settles, Professor Astra quietens us and says, “This is the Door of Fates. It is said that once, long ago, it bore a single lock, which when opened would allow certain souls to return from Obex. Of course, it’s shrouded in myth; it’s stood for two hundred years in this very foyer, and no lock has ever appeared. Now, in the room on the left, you can pick up your dormitory keys.” She points at a door in the corner of the foyer. “The rest of the day and the weekend are free for exploring. Monday morning after induction, you’ll have a formal tour, and then classes will commence.”

  She stands a little straighter, a glint in her eye, “Welcome to the toughest three years of your life.”

  Two

  ‘After the lands and magics were created but the soil was still young, the First Fallon tore the land in two and banished her sister to Obex.

  Rueben, the eldest child of the First Fallon, decreed that Darique, the eldest child of the Last Fallon and first-born anomaly, should abdicate and renounce his claim on the Trutinor throne because his mother was shamed in defeat.

  But Darique, as the first-born of all the children and true heir to Trutinor, refused to renounce his claim; a brutal and bloody war raped the lands of Trutinor, pillaging life and Balance from the people and the earth. Rueben lost and as punishment Darique created a law determining his lineage as rulers of Trutinor for all eternity. And so, the fifth law became: the First Family of the East shall rule Trutinor.’

  Excerpt from the History of Trutinor Vol. 1

  * * *

  Our luggage cases rattle over the cobbles as Trey, Kato, Bo, and I exit Stratera Academy and cross the road toward the dormitories. A long marble mansion nestled on the street opposite Stratera is our term-time home for the next three years.

  A few days ago, after some not entirely legitimate CogTracker work, Kato brandished his Tracker at us. The academy system was displayed on it, and showed that our dorm rooms were all conveniently located on the same floor. In. The. Same. Apartment.

  “We’re roomies, baby,” he had pronounced as he thrust the Tracker in our direction.

  Once again, Kato pulls out his Tracker with the same smug look as before and gestures to the top set of windows.

  “Penthouse,” he says, “obviously.”

  “If I don’t ask, I can keep assuming that this is all a pleasant coincidence, and no one did anything illegal,” Trey says, glaring at his brother.

  “Totally one hundred percent legal, non-hacking, happy coincidence.”

  Grinning, I push through the cream-colored doors and into the dormitory foyer. There’s a bustling as students pull pieces of paper from bags and crane heads to view floor names as they try to figure out where their new room is.

  The foyer floor, like the academy building, is checkered black and white, and in the middle is a twinset spiral staircase, twisting around each other as they ascend through the roof into the next floor.

  I glance down at my bulky suitcase. “Lift?” I ask.

  Bo nods and leads us round to a lift hiding behind the stairs.

  When we reach the top floor, it opens into short a corridor with a single door labeled PENTHOUSE. Kato pushes a key into the lock, and it springs open into an enormous shared living room with sky lights, sofas, and a huge CogTV on the wall. At the far end of the living room is the door to the shared kitchen. On my left and right are room doors with little gold numbers: 103 and 104.

  “We’re 103,” Kato says, “you’re on the right.” He throws Trey a set of keys, and we split from them. As we walk across the living room toward our door, my feet sink into the plush carpet. Trey places our CogKey over the lock; there’s an electronic click and the door whooshes open.

  I take a step, but Trey grabs my arm. “Wait,” he says, and drops the bags. He sweeps me off my feet, holding me in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” I say, gripping his neck so I don’t fall.

  “It’s tradition,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling at me.

  “Yeah, if you’re human and just married, of which we are neither.”

  “Don’t be boring. I’m carrying you over the threshold, then I’m putting you on the bed, and I’m going to kiss you until you moan.”

  “Trey,” I say, giggling, and crane over his shoulder to make sure Kato and Bo aren’t in the corridor.
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  He laughs and grabs our suitcase handles with one hand, dragging them into our room, kicking the door shut behind him.

  For all the emotions Sirens can control, none of them seem to have mastered modesty. Our room is enormous and a strange fusion of South and West decor. A four-poster bed made of red mahogany and royal green drapes sits proudly on one side of the room, and at the end of the bed is a moss colored sofa. There’s a second sofa area on the other side of the room. Next to that are two large mahogany desks, one for each of us. Hanging over the desk is a CogTV screen. In the furthest corner is a door hanging open to what I think is a walk-in closet. Last, to my right, is another door to what must be the bathroom.

  “My kind of bed,” Trey says, dropping my suitcase and carrying me across the carpet to the four poster.

  He slides me down onto the silky sheets. He pulls off his string vest and pushes me further up the mattress till my head rests on the pillows. Then he’s on top of me, his hand slipping behind my head and tangling through locks of my hair. His lips brush mine, and I smile into his kiss. My fingers trace the curves and bumps of his abs, and it makes my skin heat. I bite my lip as my eyes run over his muscled torso. His hand cups my cheek as he pulls me up to kiss him, the hot trickle of his breath flowing over my skin.