House of Slide Hybrid

by Juliann Whicker

  In the vision I’d been tough, strong and seductive, all things which I clearly wasn’t, and while I might tell him that I never wanted to see him again, I wouldn’t ever try and kill Lewis not to mention almost succeed. I shuddered before I entered the kitchen, giving Grim a slight smile where he sat at the counter, stonily buttering an English muffin.

  “What’s for breakfast?” I asked, opening the fridge.

  “What would you like? I’m your assigned chef, although you should know that Slide insists that all its members are adept at things like cooking.”

  I shrugged, peering into a plastic container that looked like tofu. My dad really was here somewhere. “Another reason to stay away from Slide.” I shut the fridge and turned to Grim with a smile that he returned slowly.

  “You’re up early. No one expected you to wake up until tomorrow.”

  I stared at him while I let that fact sink in. “So you drugged me?”

  He shook his head. “Apparently, Slide has seen fit to invest in a trainer for you. Congratulations. You met him the other night.”

  I froze, the details of the night: the smoke, the screams, me leaving Osmond and the creepy voice with a touch that had seared me to my brain, came back full force.

  “How many,” I demanded, trying to stay calm in spite of the panic I felt.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “How many people did I kill? Was that really me? Did I really melt the movie theater? How?”

  The lights flickered in our kitchen.

  Grim put his hand over mine, calming my pulse with his abilities to manipulate blood.

  “You’ve always been sensitive to technology and electricity. Years ago your mother had multiple circuits put into this house to keep the power up and running.”

  “You knew that I had the power to do that? Why didn’t you tell me? How many people…”

  “No fatalities,” he said crisply. “Four people went to the hospital with various injuries, nothing life-threatening.”

  “So, the trainer came after I melted the movie theater to keep me from hurting anyone else? But, my father took all those lives to keep me away from the House. Why would he do that if you all knew that I’d end up hurting people with my Wild gifts?”

  He sighed.

  “We hoped that things wouldn’t get out of control. You still have options. You can train or choose to be hunted down and killed by the House, or Satan. We have to make sure that we don’t have a repeat of the other night. Unfortunately, your abilities are only going to get stronger as time goes on.”

  I stared at him, taking in the long face, sunken eyes and the extremely doleful expression, like someone had just run over his favorite cat. Had I really melted the movie theater? I had to see it. What kind of damage could I cause, and if this was only the beginning…

  “Train or die? Those are my options?”

  He shrugged as he stood over me, despondent. “You could kill yourself; in the long run you probably would with the kind of power you’re handling. May I check your pulse? I believe your trainer sometimes has negative aftereffects.”

  “You already did,” I said, but held my hand up for him to take my wrist again. “Why didn’t anyone warn me? You’d think that someone would train me before I did something so destructive.”

  “Wild abilities come on slowly for years then suddenly compound in the subject’s teen years. I wouldn’t relive my coming of age for the world. I’m sorry that you have to go through this. We were hoping that it would never fully manifest, although in all honesty, I can hardly believe that this comes as a complete surprise to you. Have you ever had a cell phone that worked for you or a computer that didn’t crash when you tried to turn it on? You’ve been a disruptive force your whole life.”

  I felt a flash of anger that I forced down. “Apparently having no soul made me a little less observant than I might otherwise have been. Maybe someone should have explained something to me. So what will training be like? Is it all being attacked by nasally voices in the dark?”

  He smiled slightly. “Each training experience is unique.”

  “What was yours like?” Wilds had a seriously hard time answering questions.

  He wrinkled his nose as though tasting something unpleasant.

  “It passed. I learned a great deal. Training is one of the worst things about being a Wild. No one wishes they were necessary. Hotbloods lose control and burn up, Cools lose interest and fade away, Wilds lose control and go mad. I suppose all transitions are difficult.”

  “Mad? What kind of mad?” Maybe the vision, me in leather trying to kill Lewis was the beginning of madness.

  He sighed, picking up an orange in his long, pale fingers. “It varies.”

  “Could you please be a little more helpful?” I snapped. “You’re telling me that I might go nuts and kill a lot of people, right? I need a few more details. Would I start seeing something, alternate realities? Would I think I was a different person than I am now? Would I have dizzy spells where I wake up and aren’t sure where I am?”

  He shook his head, frowning. “No, none of that. Are you seeing yourself in different realities? Could you be a foreteller?”

  I shook my head. “I wasn’t much older than I am now, but I wasn’t the same person. A foreteller sees the future, right? That’s not my future, not anymore.”

  “The madness is usually a loss of empathy. They no longer realize that they are part of a world where others are affected by their actions. They do what they do because they can and don’t care about consequences. They can’t care about the consequence. To them, they don’t exist.”

  I took a second to consider the implications. If I didn’t care about melting the movie theater, if I only wanted to see what else I could do, what else I could destroy, I should be killed or locked away.

  “How do trainers keep Wilds from becoming megalomaniacs?”

  “Pain,” he said, shortly. “Deepen the pain, deepen the empathy, lessen the chance of madness. It’s not an ideal system. Some people become too accustomed to pain, accepting it as a way of life, for themselves and everyone around them. They hurt others even though it hurts themselves.”

  “Wouldn’t a theoretical approach be more rational?”

  “More rational, but less effective. No one wants to send their Sons and Daughters to a trainer to be taught lessons in pain. Some cannot do it and lose a child to the madness. Houses have fallen from too much compassion.”

  “It makes no sense.”

  Grim sighed. “Be that as it may, you are given a choice: Death or Training. Which is it?”

  I took a deep breath. “Considering that I already got attacked by my Trainer, it’s a little late to ask, don’t you think? Who is he?”

  “His name is Carve.”

  I swallowed. “That’s ominous.”

  “Yes, it is. Traditionally you’re not supposed to know his name. I have not personally met Matthew, but after Satan brought you home to your mother, they agreed that no one else could have done the paralysis so neatly. She’s out there right now with your father and Satan, having a word or two with him. I was left here to make certain you didn’t wake up afraid and alone. You certainly don’t seem scared. You should be after what he put you through.”

  I tried not to shiver, but the idea of a Trainer in the dark who could paralyze me, whose purpose was to teach me pain so that I’d have enough empathy to not go mad, couldn’t make me warm. For a moment I wished I still had that Hotblood soul.

  I straightened up. “I still have my soul. Actually, after that whole thing I feel a little more solid, a little more stable than before. He really wasn’t that bad. Other than the pain, of course. I think talking to my father is scarier than some random Wild.”

  At least the madness wasn’t about seeing the future. Devlin probably had put the future in his rocks somehow. I opened my mouth to ask Grim then closed it again. I liked my tall, spidery looking uncle in spite of his relation to my mother. He didn’t relish the killing,
not like Satan, but I couldn’t confide in him when he told me so little. If he knew about the rocks, telling him wouldn’t change anything, but if he didn’t know and I told him, maybe they’d take them away and I’d never learn anything else about Devlin’s visions, why he’d taken my soul.

  “Your father wasn’t himself. He would never hurt you.”

  I made a noncommittal sound. There had been so many rocks. What if each of them had a different future, a possibility? If Devlin had recorded several alternate endings, he could pick and choose which were his favorites. Maybe in Devlin’s case, the future really was in stone.

  “If only that were true,” my father’s soft voice filled the room. I turned and saw him in the doorway. In spite of his aura of peace and calm he looked tired and maybe old. “I’ve hurt Dariana more times than I can count. I should have stayed and guided Devlin instead of pretending that it didn’t matter if I stayed or went. How are you?” he asked, coming over to put his hands on my shoulders and gaze deeply into my eyes.

  Goose bumps sprouted up on my arms, but I held his gaze, looking steadily back into his silvery blue eyes.

  “I’m fine, thanks. What about my Trainer? Do you know him? Will he be good at teaching me empathy?”

  My father flinched.

  “I’m sure he’ll teach you all sorts of pain,” my mother’s cold voice filled the room. “If you’d come right home after your experience, but no, I don’t suppose it would make a difference. Four people went to the hospital from your lack of control.”

  “I know,” I said, hating the thought. “You needed to tell me. You knew what I could do if you rewired the house because of me. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t someone warn me what could happen? I’m fine!” I snapped as Grim stepped forward to calm my racing heart.

  The lights flickered and I forced myself to close my eyes and breathe, to think about something else. A face appeared, warm eyes, half smile, someone who could do more damage than me with his hands tied behind his back.

  With a deep breath, I shook off Lewis’s memory and opened my eyes, looking steadily at my father who watched me closely, curious but unafraid.

  “Aren’t you worried that I’ll melt the house?” I asked.

  He smiled slightly. “Your mother wouldn’t approve of that unless you melted it symmetrically.” He shook his head. “You didn’t melt the movie theater. You melted the projector. I don’t believe that you could ever melt anything alive, or anything without circuitry.”

  “What about after I get runed?”

  The heavy silence filled the room while my relatives stared at me.

  I swallowed then boldly continued. “I need to get tattoos if I’m going to be trained, don’t I? Grim said something about me needing to cook as part of Slide, which I take means that in spite of dad’s sacrifice, I’m still in the House.”

  At that moment my uncle with his bald head, twined with black runes, slouched through the doorway. He ducked around my parents to take bloody and slowly healing knuckles to the sink to run them under cold water.

  “You met with my trainer, too?” I asked Satan’s back, his formerly white shirt wet and dirty.

  He grunted.

  “So, did you have a nice time?”

  Satan didn’t seem interested in looking back at me.

  “Did you know that I could melt technology?”

  He glanced at me, shrugged and went back to his work at the sink. I moved closer to him, watching the red mix with the water and swirl down the drain. I caught a whiff of blood and had to get away.

  I spun around and left them all behind.

  My father found me lying on my bed, staring at my Axel.

  He stood in the doorway for a moment, his narrow tall figure filling the space.

  “We were all worried that if we talked about it, that would make things worse for you,” he said, quietly.

  “Fine. It’s nice that you and mother agreed about something.”

  He sighed and came in, closing the door behind him like that had been an invitation.

  “Your parents are not capable of creating something without the potential for destruction,” he said, slowly.

  “So I had no chance at being a nice normal girl,” I said in monotone. “I get that. Thanks for the chat.”

  “What’s this?” he asked, nudging my box with his foot then bending down to hover over the box with his head cocked, listening to the contents.

  “Just stuff from before I lost my soul.”

  He glanced up, his eyes bright and aware. “You were in the attic. What else did you find?”

  I paused while we eyed each other, him waiting patiently for me to confess. He would not force me, at least not if I cooperated with him.

  “I knocked over a box, broke some stuff. Oops.”

  He raised his eyebrows, patient, certain. He knew about Devlin’s rocks.

  “Which future is this one, the one where he took my soul and Lewis… I only saw the futures where I’d never lost my soul.”

  “You can see them?”

  I nodded.

  “Of course you can. You have my Cool blood, and you’re his sister. The same links that made it possible for him to take your soul probably allow you to see his imprints. I hope that you don’t put too much into what you’ve seen. They’re only things that might have been. That road leads to regret, pain, focusing on remorse instead of hope. You have your soul. Your life, while unfortunately tied for a time with a diabolical Trainer and Bloodbound to an unfortunate Bloodworker, is yours.”

  I snorted and patted his head. His hair felt like silver under my fingers, reminding me of the silver runes I’d had embedded in my flesh.

  “On that note, when do I get my runes?”

  His eyes flashed and I pulled back, feeling the air fill with his sudden intensity. I wished he would stay one thing for longer than ten minutes.

  “Hybrids do not get runes.”

  “Well, I saw in Devlin’s possibilities, that I had silver runes. It seems like a good idea.”

  “Runes would kill you.”

  “You can’t think of any Hybrids who have gotten runes?”

  He hesitated.

  I waited until he shook his head slightly.

  “Your Trainer.”

  “My Trainer is a Hybrid?”

  “Cool, Wild, like you. That’s why he’s assumed to be ideal for the position. I can’t imagine how Slide persuaded a Head of House like him to take on such a role. Then again, perhaps I can.”

  “My Trainer has runes? See? It happens. Why do you think that he agreed to be my Trainer? He doesn’t do this normally?”

  “There aren’t many Hybrids who are embraced by a House. Most Houses destroy them or send them out to be Hunters—mostly the same thing. Your Trainer was Intended to Slide at one point.”

  “Intended to Slide?”

  My father made a noncommittal sound before he straightened up, turning to gaze at my painting. “That painting sings. I don’t see how you can sleep in the same room as it. Not very restful. Your mother could explain the relationships between Slide and Carve better than I. They’ve had a tenuous alliance for years, unusual for a Red House and a White House.”

  “Is my mother likely to explain anything? No one bothered telling me that I could break a streetlight and melt a movie theater. If that’s not my business, why would some arbitrary Slide custom?”

  “You are embroiled in the House until you are Trained. Arbitrary Slide customs may become essential, particularly if you don’t know them. I’m sorry. I tried to keep you out of the House, but I…”

  “At least now, you won’t have to do any more of Slide’s dirty work.” I said to his back, noticing the slight stoop to his shoulders. “That can’t be good for your soul.”

  He turned, shaking his head. “My soul is past the point of concern.”

  “You believe that people cannot change?”

  “People make choices, but innocence cannot be regained once lost.”

&
nbsp; “My ‘innocence’ is what led to my melting the movie theater,” I snapped.

  He smiled slightly. “There are trade-offs.”

  “What are you going to do now? Are you going back to the Woods?”

  “No. I’m going back to Slide to do what I can to minimize the influence that they exert over you.”

  I frowned but didn’t say anything.

  “You thought I’d stay here.”

  “Why not? You’re still married.”

  He winced, more than when I’d called him a murderer. “I closed that door long ago,” he said quietly.

  I let him go, wanting to kick myself for bringing up something that couldn’t help but be painful. For all of us. They still cared about each other. They couldn’t help it, not if they were soul mates. What point did any of that have if soul mates couldn’t find happiness together?

  Chapter 4

  Maybe I shouldn’t have worn the pink shirt that was obviously too small for me with the prancing pony on the front chasing butterflies. Maybe I should have given another thought to wearing my hair in pigtails. Valerie gave me a distinctly amused chortle that made me feel even more self-conscious as I hefted my bag higher on my shoulder. The shirt fit, if just barely, and I couldn’t see not wearing something I genuinely liked because it wasn’t cool. So what if I looked like an eighteen-year-old trying to be a six-year-old. It was either that or the other way around.

  “Dari, there you are. How are you doing? When your mother called and asked me to get your homework for Monday and Tuesday, I couldn’t believe that you’d had another bout of the flu,” Snowy said brightly for the world to hear as she came up to me with a smile. I watched her smile falter as she took in my shirt and hair.

  “Yeah, the flu positively paralyzed me for days, and you know, the hallucinations weren’t the greatest thing either.”

  “Hallucinations? Like, you’re hallucinating that you’re still in the second grade, or that I’m hallucinating because you wouldn’t actually be caught dead wearing a shirt eight sizes too small to school?”

  I smiled at her, suddenly glad that I’d worn this, particularly if Snowy thought it was stupid. “All kinds, really. So how was your weekend?”