Displaced (The Birthright Series Book 1)

by Bridget E. Baker

  “It’s the Collegiate Invitational.” Logan says. “There are teams from all over the country.”

  “Crap.” Judica knew I wanted a week to decide, and she knew I was with Alora, but I’d rather not have my identity and location splashed all over the internet. I shouldn’t have come.

  We all stretch together before the race, but when they call us over to the starting line, Lisa pulls me aside.

  “Hey, you shouldn’t have brought that necklace.” She points.

  “This? I never take it off.” I promised my mom and I’m not breaking that promise posthumously. Besides, it’s not safe, especially since only two guards followed us to this enormous regional event.

  “Well, you can’t wear it for the race. Regulations.”

  I tuck it under my t-shirt. “Who will know?”

  “I don’t want to get disqualified because you won’t take off some expensive piece of jewelry.”

  I want a friend, but not at the expense of prudence. “I’m not taking it off.”

  She frowns. “Why?”

  No one knows about my necklace, not even Judica. I’m certainly not telling Miss Nosey. But I’m not used to people not listening to me. I think back on the things I know about her and examine my options. I could punch her in the nose or call Edam over and make him tell her to shove it, but both would attract undue attention. To avoid that, I need leverage.

  “What shipping company did you say your dad owns?” I ask.

  “I didn’t say.” She looks at me sideways. “Why?”

  I glance at her jersey. “Your last name’s Brayden. So your dad must run B&F shipping.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “How do you know that?”

  “You probably heard I didn’t know much about calculus on the first day.” I imagine that kind of mean-spirited gossip happens among humans too.

  She squirms. “I might have heard a few jokes.”

  “I spent my time studying other things. My family may not rival Noah’s, but we boast varied and extensive interests. For instance, I know B&F shipping needs approvals from US Customs to import most of its valuable items. Many of your goods originate in Indonesia.”

  “Uh, this is getting weird.”

  I smile. “I also know Mr. Constantine. He’s pretty important with the CBP, so you might have heard your parents complain about him.”

  “What do you know about him? Or the CBP?”

  “My mom and Mr. Constantine go way back. He sent me a pretty nice baby gift, if I recall correctly.”

  Lisa clears her throat.

  “It’s not a big deal if I want to wear my necklace under my shirt. I mean, it would be such a shame if Templeton Constantine decided to look a little closer at each item, delaying or refusing delivery. I mean, if things got bad enough, your parents might struggle to pay your tuition.”

  Lisa pales and takes a step away from me. I don’t enjoy scaring her, but staying safe matters more than trying to mimic life in a high school sit-com.

  Or maybe I’m a little more like Judica than I want to believe. The difference is, I won’t hurt Lisa unless I have no other choice. Not that she knows that. She shoots a few strange looks my direction while we wait to start, but I ignore them. At least Noah and I are in the first heat, along with Logan.

  I pace myself by staying just behind Noah. Logan lags behind a few miles in and I wonder why absently, but I don’t worry too much. After all, Noah’s fully human. If I’m pacing off of him, I’ll be fine, right?

  Running is the first thing that’s felt right since Cookie and Mom died. I close my eyes and breathe. Simple. In and out, in and out. My feet pound the hard-packed dirt and my lungs process air. Noah keeps pace, his heart hammering along far faster than mine, almost alarmingly fast, but he’s not puffing too badly.

  “Have you ever won one of these?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. “Gotten close.”

  “But close means you still lost, right?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah.”

  “Not today,” I say, urging him on.

  “You want to win the whole thing?” Noah’s cheeks are red, and his lungs are heaving. I may be pressing too hard.

  “I always want to win.”

  “Always?” Noah asks. “At everything?”

  “If you’re not a winner, you’re a loser.” It seems too obvious to me. You’d think a kid from a rich family would know this already.

  Noah shakes his head. “There are more than just victims and Vikings in the world, Rebecca.”

  I don’t argue, because what’s the point? But I push him a little harder, helping him be more than he aspires to be, and slowly, slowly, we inch ahead of the couple of kids in front of us. And then we keep on pushing. Noah’s practically purple when we cross the finish line. Which is when I notice that our entire group, other than Logan and Lisa who are still running, is whooping and yelling loudly.

  Edam, however, doesn’t look very pleased.

  “What’s the big deal?” I whisper under my breath.

  “Holy crap,” Logan’s dad, whose name is Roy I think, mutters. “You two broke the high school record.”

  He and Edam share strikingly similar expressions, their lips pursed, their eyes narrowed. Which must mean he knows who I am, and doesn’t like me flaunting it. Not that I meant to, or not exactly. But what if I needed a win today? It’s been a hard week. Why should he care?

  Alora’s here, too. She’s cheering, but even she looks a little annoyed. When I reach her she shakes her head. “That wasn’t fair. Running that fast against these poor kids.”

  “I know, I know,” I say. “I won’t do it again.”

  “Whoops,” I whisper to Edam when he comes over to pretend to congratulate me.

  “Apparently Noah’s freakishly fast,” he whispers back. “Maybe you shouldn’t have used him to pace. He’s got to have some evian blood in his line somewhere.”

  “Alora said he doesn’t.” I frown. “His heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings, and his breathing was shallow and hitched. Also, apparently his dad owns half of China.”

  Edam glances at me sharply.

  “I know. It’s strange.” Somehow, China has evaded evian control for millennia. Its natural inhabitants holed up in there for so long, and communications and travel were so dicey, we didn’t even realize there was a significant civilization there until a few hundred years ago. Since then, the families have fought so fiercely over it, that no one has successfully held it for more than a few months. Operatives sent there keep disappearing. Or returning in body bags, which is possibly more impressive. Killing an evian operative is difficult.

  “Strange or not,” Edam whispers, “he’s not full Chinese. Look at him. Maybe he had a great-great ancestor who was evian. He seems below average in looks and intelligence, so maybe his speed is some kind of genetic throwback.”

  I roll my eyes. Below average in looks and intelligence? Oh, Edam. No one looks like he does, but Noah is definitely far, far above average in that department. He has unique, strong features, almost too strong for his face. He may still need to grow into his looks, but one day he’ll be show-stopping. Even now he looks pretty darn amazing.

  “Nice run.” When I congratulate him, Noah smiles at me, and it’s refreshing when a little of his excitement spreads to me. It must be nice not to worry about excelling at something. Or maybe it’s the freedom of not having any secrets.

  “Noah!” Logan calls out from across the yard. “Hey man, I just finished and I heard. Congrats!”

  “Thanks, you too.”

  “My dad will be happy with sixth place overall,” Logan says, “but I didn’t break any records.”

  “I’ve never had a better motivator than Rebecca.” Noah gestures to me. “So, when are we going to celebrate? I was telling her how your dad always takes us out on his yacht.”

  “Uh,” Logan says. “You didn’t hear?”

  “Hear what?” Noah asks.

  “Logan steered my yacht into the doc
k last weekend,” Roy says. “It’s being repaired.”

  “The dock?” Noah asks, “Or the yacht?”

  “Both,” Roy grumbles. “Which is why Logan should be grounded, or doing manual labor.”

  “I did get straight As,” Logan says. “And I just ran my personal best time.”

  “If you’re not grounding your son,” Noah says, “I’m willing to invite everyone to my place instead. I think today’s victory deserves to be celebrated.”

  Edam shakes his head tightly. “No way,” he whispers.

  “I need to call my sister to see whether it’s okay,” I tell Noah. I walk a few dozen steps away, Edam pretending to take a call himself. He’s ten feet away, but I can still hear every word.

  I hold my phone to my ear. No reason for them to realize neither of us are actually on a call. “I could use a little fun in my life.” It surprises me, but I actually kind of want to go. “Besides. Noah’s a contact I should cultivate. Even Alora said so.”

  “I don’t know,” Roy is saying behind me to Noah. “Logan hasn’t been exhibiting great judgment lately.”

  “I’ll get some adults to come,” Noah says. “If that’ll make you feel better.”

  “I’ll go, sir.” Edam taps on his phone and turns to face them again. “To chaperone.”

  Roy raises his eyebrows. “Really? You’d stay all night?”

  “Absolutely,” Edam says.

  “Did you hear why your job was available?” I hiss softly.

  Edam shakes his head.

  “Coach Fimmel got involved with one of the students.”

  I expect him to act suitably repentant, or tell Roy and Noah how respectable he is. I’m not expecting him to smile wickedly at me. “You don’t say.”

  I’m glad I’m still facing away from the group, ostensibly on a phone call. No one sees my cheeks flush red. No one except Edam, that is.

  I think about the wisdom of wasting more time on a party. I do need to find out whether I could fit in at typical human functions, and I’ve been dying to go to a high school party since the first time I watched a human television program. I also need to decide whether to abdicate, fight for myself, or choose Edam. If I wrap my brain around letting Edam kill my sister for me, the next question is whether I could stand being joined to him for a thousand years. Maybe a little flirting at a party is a good idea after all. I mean, in almost every human television show, the main character kisses someone, right?

  And I’ve never kissed anyone.

  I can’t wait to get back to the school so I can tell Lark where we’re going. This is going to be an interesting night.

  22

  “You need a ride back?” Noah asks.

  I shake my head. “I’ll take the bus,” I say. “My sister Laura’s still at school.”

  Noah scrunches his nose in distaste. “You sure?”

  I bob my head. “It’s fine, really. What time will your party start?”

  Noah shrugs. “Sunset? That’s usually when people start showing up. Logan’s good about getting the word out.”

  I start for the bus, and Noah waves and heads for Logan’s dad’s car. I wait until they’re buckled in and driving away before I change course and beeline toward Alora’s car. I’m totally unprepared to find Edam already sitting inside.

  “Uh, hi there,” I say dumbly.

  He half smiles at me.

  “Don’t you need to take the bus back to school, Coach?”

  Alora laughs from the front seat. “He had Lisa’s nanny fill in for him. Any approved parent can act as an official chaperone. After that blazing success, the school won’t fault him for missing the full day instead of returning for the last period.”

  I shrug.

  “You’re really going to some human party?” Edam asks.

  “You didn’t seem to think it was a bad idea earlier.” I gulp, remembering how my blood rushed to my face when he smiled at me. I’m an idiot. He only offered to be my Consort so he can kill Judica and move into the number two position for the entire Alamecha family. It’s not like he likes me.

  “I don’t think taking the rest of the day off from your training is a good idea. We’re running out of time.”

  Alora clears her throat. “Have you decided to fight her, then?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t decided anything.”

  “You’re not even considering your best option,” Edam says stiffly.

  “You don’t get to decide what my best option is,” I say. “You’re not my dad.”

  Edam practically roars. “I should hope not.”

  “Sounds like you two have some things to talk about.” Alora presses the button to raise the partition between the front and back seats of the car.

  Edam scowls at the raising divider as if it offends him that she’s giving us privacy to yell at each other. With evian hearing being what it is, it’s faux privacy anyway. We both know they’ll still be able to hear every word.

  Edam shifts toward me on the seat and I scoot back, hating myself for doing it. I’m not scared of him. I’m not. But he makes me nervous, like a cat around a Doberman. Or a cupcake on the counter in front of a greedy child. Only, I can’t decide whether I want to be eaten.

  “I didn’t mean that I think of you like my dad,” I say quietly.

  “I’m not that much older than you,” he says. “Your mother was hundreds of years older than your father, for heaven’s sake.”

  I clench my fists at my side. “This conversation has veered way off course. The point is that, I make my own decisions. You’re not my war general or my boss, or even my advisor, so—”

  “I’m not even your boyfriend. That’s the point.”

  Blood rushes to my cheeks. I hate that he can make me blush so easily.

  “Right, and actually you were my sister’s boyfriend last week.”

  He speaks so quietly I can barely make out the words. “Not by choice.”

  I take a moment to process what he’s said. I think about the video where he’s standing utterly still in front of Judica. I thought he was respectful, or maybe in awe of her interest. But now, hearing what he’s said, maybe he was uninterested, or worse, disgusted. Maybe he never liked her, but he didn’t think he could turn her down.

  Did Judica force him to be her boyfriend? I shudder. “Look, the point is, I’ll never require you to do anything you don’t want to do, up to and including being my Consort. Bending others to her will may be what a good ruler does, but I’ve never claimed to be that. I’m far more victim than...” I trail off. What did Noah say? A conqueror? No, he said a Viking. “I’m more like a victim than a Viking, and I won’t make anyone else my victim, especially not you.”

  “Judica has no such qualms. She’s a Viking until the end of days, whenever that is. Look, if you insist on attending this party, I won’t try and stop you. But I do insist we train, at least a little, before you go.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine?” Edam leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. His eyes snap and mine are drawn toward them. Which is a mistake. Never meet the predator’s eyes. Everyone knows that. But once I look at them, I can’t look away. He’s so... intense.

  I almost forget he asked me a question, and I’m staring at him dumbly. What was it? He threw my word back at me. Fine. Fine? Ugh. I wish looking at him directly didn’t reduce me to human-level stupidity.

  “What’s wrong with agreeing with you?”

  He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, like a drama queen in a high school movie.

  I almost snort at him.

  “Nothing’s wrong with agreeing with me. It’s that I’m having to drag you toward what you should already be focused on doing. You need to stop wasting your time playing make-believe with a bunch of human teenagers you have nothing in common with and appreciate the time you’ve been given. Buckle down and train in earnest, because in less than a week, Judica’s going to try to take you apart.” He looks out the window. Almost like the id
ea of Judica decapitating me upsets him. Almost.

  “What do you care?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” he says.

  “Maybe I don’t need to train. Because if I’m being honest, I don’t even want to go back,” I say.

  Edam’s eyes flash. “You were born to rule Alamecha.”

  I shake my head. “I was born,” I pause. “If we’re being honest, I was born to die. Mom should have killed me the second I cried my first pitiful wail. Or before that, even. But she didn’t. Every single day since then has been borrowed time. And now I have to decide whether to let my sister wear the crown she was always supposed to have or fight her for it. I hate fighting, but I like my borrowed time. I like my never-supposed-to-happen life.”

  “You don’t have to risk it.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. I can abdicate. I really think Judica will let me walk away.” If my conscience will allow it.

  “I don’t mean abdication. Leaving your people would be a half-life for you at best.”

  Which means Edam thinks he’s my only good option. He thinks I’m helpless. Bubbles of anger float up inside me and burst, one by one. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a risk. Because when I was watching videos this morning before school, I heard her. Judica’s melodic line was clear and strong.”

  “Oh?” he asks. “Then show me.”

  I glance around the car in shock. We’ve stopped in front of Alora’s brownstone.

  Edam steps out and waves me ahead of him with a flourish. I want to slap his face for being snarky, but I save my irritation for the fight. As I jog up the stairs, I think back on our last few fights, focusing on Edam this time and not Judica. What does he do, and how can I counter him? Hearing Judica won’t help me defeat him, which means I can’t show him what I’ve learned. Melodics feels kind of person-specific in that way.

  To buy myself some time to think, I select the same sword I used last time and lift it up slowly, as if I’m trying to decide whether to use it. I envision the way Edam moved, the way he slices, chops, and spins. I close my eyes and envision his movements and his melody sings in the distance, at least part of it. I don’t really know Edam perfectly yet, but I can read a part of his song. It’s alpha, dominant and abrasive. All the things male evians aren’t really allowed to be in our society, except as directed by their monarch. I raise my well-balanced sword. “What are you going to use?”