Spencer’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Our?”
“Amber’s and mine. Did she not tell you I moved in with her family?”
I gaped at Dylan. “You do not need to tell everyone we know,” I hissed under my breath. Dylan grinned shamelessly.
“No, she did not,” Spencer muttered.
I avoided making eye contact with Spencer while I paid for my lunch.
My attention was drawn back to Arisella and Adrian, who looked completely out of place amongst the noisy, hungry crowd. “I think I should sit with the new kids. It’s their first day.”
“Again?” Spencer said, more upset than he really had a right to be.
Alexis picked up her tray and used it to gesture toward my chest. “You sure do have a weak spot in your heart for new kids.”
“I actually think that’s one of my more redeeming qualities,” I said over my shoulder, while I made my exit. Adrian’s head lifted as soon as I left the line, and from across the cafeteria I thought I could distinguish a subtle grin.
But before I had even gone five feet, Dylan fell into step beside me.
“What? You couldn’t have been expecting me to sit with them.” Dylan’s eyes flicked back to Spencer and Alexis, who were watching us cross the room. I guessed I hadn’t.
If Adrian had been smiling at all, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Dylan and I slid into the pair of vacant seats in front of Arisella and Adrian. Arisella was still viciously stabbing her meat loaf with a fork, strewing it all over her plate to examine its ingredients.
Dylan eyed her like she was a wild animal. Technically, she kind of was.
“They were very poorly homeschooled,” I whispered to Dylan before he could get too apprehensive.
Dylan snorted. “Was she homeschooled at a zoo?”
Arisella smashed her fork into the table. “What is this horrid meal?”
“Meat loaf,” I informed her, as I took a bite out of my spaghetti.
“Meat?” Arisella scoffed. “This isn’t meat.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s why no one ever eats it.”
Adrian snuck a spoonful of the disgusting brown stuff into his mouth. “It’s not that bad,” he remarked, although his wrinkled nose said otherwise. “It tastes kind of like moonra –” Adrian stopped midsentence. I suspected he was about to say the name of some Fallyrian meat, but remembered Dylan’s presence and caught himself. Fortunately, Dylan was too busy inhaling his pasta to notice.
Arisella pushed her tray of mush away, completely giving up on the idea of ever ingesting it. Her eyes honed in on some invisible object behind me. “A girl is coming this way.”
I whirled around in my seat. Cecelia was sashaying toward us, her mini skirt bobbing indecently at her thighs, like she had majored in the science of just managing to skim the dress code. It appeared that she had spent the last thirty minutes in the bathroom straightening her appearance, because she looked nothing like she had in math class.
“Gentlemen,” she purred as she claimed the seat beside Dylan. “And ladies.” She didn’t even bother to look at Arisella or me. “I’d like to welcome you to Pierce High. I’m Cecelia, a friend of Amber’s.”
I sputtered loudly on the milk I was drinking, earning me a disgusted glance from Cecelia.
“We’re Adrian and Arisella Smith.” Adrian raised his hand toward himself and his sister. I lifted an eyebrow at him. I was more than sure he had just given a false surname.
“Adrian. I like that name,” she said much too sweetly. “And you must be Dylan.” She put her hand on Dylan’s arm and scooted closer to him, but Dylan discreetly maintained his distance from her by inching toward me.
“Amber is quite fortunate to have such fine friends,” Cecelia continued in a silky voice. Her face turned pouty. “Although, I doubt she even appreciates how lucky she is. Why would she? She’s already got her hands full with someone else.” Cecelia’s eyes skewered mine with hate.
My blood froze in my veins. So she did know.
Adrian and Arisella glanced at me skeptically, but they didn’t seem to catch on.
Cecelia returned her attention to the boys beside her. “Fortunately, my hands are completely free.” She flashed her teeth devilishly at Adrian. “So, what is a lovely young man such as yourself doing at Pierce High?”
“Receiving an education,” Adrian said absently, as if he were pointlessly answering a rhetorical question.
Apparently Cecelia mistook it as an attempt to be humorous, because she produced a shrill, over-enthusiastic laugh. “Oh, you’re too funny, Adrian, dear.”
Turning his head so Cecelia couldn’t see, Dylan mouthed, “Is she for real?” I nodded sadly.
Cecelia’s eyes passed over Adrian with an intent, smug look. I recognized that look. It was the way girls looked when they were determined to get something they wanted – from shoes to boys – and willing to pummel through anything that might stand in front of them.
Cecelia leaned forward, her obscenely low-cut top hanging much too low for my comfort. I secretly wished one of the administrators would notice, so that she could be taken away and given a detention.
“Have you been to Albina’s?” she inquired.
Adrian seemed slightly irritated. “I can’t say I have.”
“You mean Amber hasn’t taken you to Albina’s yet? What an absolute shame.”
I gritted my teeth while she addressed me in arrogant disapproval. I was fairly certain no one at the table knew what an “Albina’s” was, except for her.
“We really must go. The food is absolutely to die for, nothing like this slop the school serves us.” Cecelia stuck out her tongue at Adrian’s meatloaf. “Perhaps you can take me.”
“Perhaps.” Adrian removed a small book from his pocket and became exceedingly preoccupied with it. I recognized the cover. The Great Gatsby. The corners of my lips twitched up. I loved that book.
Cecelia looked offended that Adrian had dared to devote his attention to a book rather than her, but she remained undeterred. “Or, if you prefer, there’s a lovely Mediterranean restaurant that I know you’d love. Everyone loves it. I could show you around the school too. I know Amber has probably been trying her best to show you around, but it must be quite difficult for her. She’s only been here for a few weeks. New students advising new students can be quite counterproductive. I’m sure my knowledge of the school would naturally be far more comprehensive than hers.” She spoke animatedly, desperately trying to maintain his attention by running through various topics in the hope that one would find purchase.
To Cecelia’s dismay, Adrian’s indifference was only marred by a slight frown and a curt repetition of “perhaps.”
I couldn’t help but snicker at Cecelia’s exasperation. Adrian’s head abruptly snapped up at the sound, and his clear sapphire eyes found mine. His book sat momentarily neglected in front of him, while he watched me with curiosity.
Disconcerted, I averted my eyes, only to meet those of Cecelia. The fact that I had claimed Adrian’s attention without even trying seemed to infuriate her.
Cecelia tilted her head toward Dylan. “Have you been to Albina’s? Let’s go there for lunch one day. You’ll never look at cafeteria food the same way again.”
“Oh no, I love cafeteria food. It’s delicious,” Dylan said quickly. To prove his point, he swallowed a spoonful of Arisella’s discarded meatloaf without gagging.
Cecelia flinched and turned back to Adrian. Clearly she considered Dylan a lost cause.
“And that is how you get out of a date,” Dylan whispered softly enough so that only I would hear.
“Shut up.”
Cecelia sneered at Adrian’s book. “Printed words on paper are ridiculously dull, if you ask me. I could never understand how people found books so interesting.”
“Maybe if you actually read a few, you’d change your mind,” I spat. Adrian laughed without making any effort to hide his amusement.
Cecelia looked taken aback. “Let’s t
ry to keep this conversation cordial, Amber. I know you’re not very good at that, but you can at least give it a try.”
I was disgusted by Cecelia’s sickeningly superior attitude. My fingers twitched toward Arisella’s meat loaf; I was seriously considering cramming it down Cecelia’s throat so she would shut up. But Cecelia wasn’t done yet.
“Why, I wish you all could have been here to see Amber on her first day of school. She was so hilariously embarrassing, I felt bad for her. She was arguing with the class about some ridiculous little surfer school she used to attend.”
I stared at her, openmouthed. “Your memory must be seriously impaired, because you were the one arguing with me.”
“You do realize Amber and I went to the same school, right?” Dylan said, insulted.
“Really?” Cecelia inquired without a trace of shame. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Dylan.” Yeah, only me. “I was only joking, you all must know that.”
She fidgeted awkwardly in her seat, like she was finally beginning to realize that she was unwelcome.
Cecelia scribbled seven digits onto a napkin with an eyeliner pencil she had pulled out of some unknown region of her skirt. Adrian looked up when Cecelia shoved it in front of his face.
“Well, if you ever want to do anything, here’s my number.”
Adrian scrutinized the smudged numbers on the napkin like they were the oddest things he had ever seen. “Why would I want a number?”
“It’s not just any number, it’s my number.”
“I know, but why would I want it?”
It dawned on me that Adrian must not have been very familiar with certain elements of human etiquette, such as the exchange of phone numbers. Did they even have phones where he came from?
Cecelia stared bug-eyed at Adrian, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Oh, don’t be rude, Adrian.”
“I’m not the one being rude. Your number is of no use to me,” Adrian answered smoothly.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, he very much is,” I chuckled knowingly.
“Fine, suit yourself!” Cecelia’s face was turning scarlet, and she looked like she might explode. Any charm she might have had was quickly disappearing.
“Here Dylan, for you.” She tossed the napkin toward Dylan spitefully, like it was a privilege he didn’t deserve.
Dylan glanced at it once. “Do you give your number out to everyone? Because, you know, that’s not very safe.”
“It’s only unsafe if you’re an untrustworthy person to begin with,” Cecelia said through clenched teeth.
“You may want it back then, because I consider myself pretty untrustworthy.”
Cecelia opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped, smoothed her expression, and forced a smile that looked faker than the ones on Barbie dolls. “Well, it seems you all still haven’t figured out exactly how this school works yet, but you will soon enough. When you do, you’ll want that number.” Cecelia turned and strutted away.
“I highly doubt it,” Adrian said. He creased the page he was on and tucked his book back into his pocket.
“She was getting kind of rude. Nice idea, by the way, playing dumb like that,” Dylan said to Adrian.
“Sure… thanks.” Adrian said, confused. “What are you doing?”
Dylan had picked up Cecelia’s number and was punching it into his phone. The simple human action fascinated Arisella and Adrian.
“Traitor,” I accused.
“I don’t actually intend to call her. But it also doesn’t hurt to have her number. It might come in handy.”
“Because there will come a time when we will desperately need to call Cecelia Stone,” I muttered.
“You never know. Anyway, I’m late for an appointment with my counselor, so I’ve got to go.”
“What’s the appointment for?”
Dylan looked away toward the hall. “New student stuff. The usual.” Huh, I thought he was done with all that.
“Okay, I’ll see you in fifth period, then.”
Dylan departed for the front office, leaving me with Arisella and Adrian for the remainder of lunch.
“You two seem close,” Adrian observed.
“That’s because we are,” I said honestly. “I’ve known him for most of my life.”
“Will you be able to leave him here, if the time comes for you to leave with us?”
I dropped my fork on the table with a clatter. I hadn’t been expecting him to ask this question so bluntly.
I had been asking myself the same question all day, wondering if I would be able to leave Dylan again after already abandoning him once. This time, though, there would be no phone calls, no emails, no surprise reunions. Our existences would be completely and utterly disconnected from one another. Hell, we wouldn’t even be on the same planet, maybe the same universe.
“I’ll do what I have to.”
The thought of leaving Dylan made me uncomfortable, so I rushed to change the topic. “But it’s not like I’m the only one who has a human friend. You seem quite popular yourself.” It was no surprise either. Adrian and Arisella were probably the most attractive students on campus, which really wasn’t fair considering they had special god-given superpowers as well.
Adrian snickered. “That girl? I generally don’t associate with people like her.”
“What, people like humans?” I asked, taking a sip from my milk.
“No, I don’t despise humans, but I’m not especially fond of egotistical individuals who assume themselves superior to their equals.”
“It’s infuriating,” Arisella agreed.
The flat, computer-generated tone (that, for some reason, people were still calling a bell, even though it sounded nothing like one) blared over the school intercom, and Arisella, Adrian, and I joined the massive body of students pouring out of the cafeteria.
“What exactly were that girl’s intentions?” Arisella asked suspiciously, as Adrian left to wedge their two uneaten meatloaves into an overflowing trashcan.
“She was hunting.”
“Hunting?”
“It’s a different kind of hunting,” I clarified, and shot her a meaningful look.
Arisella snorted. “And my brother was the prey.” Arisella shook her head and laughed. “What a foolish human. My brother is never the prey.”
Chapter Seventeen
I watched the knife hurtling toward my face, paralyzed with panic. I had known it was coming; I had even received warning, but that didn’t make it any less scary.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and my brain worked faster. I fell to the ground just before the blade impaled my face. It whizzed past my ear, pulling a few loose strands of hair along with it.
Arisella did a very unimpressed slow clap. “That was better.”
“Better? I still almost died!”
Against my better discretion, I was back to playing target practice with Arisella and her knives. But, unlike the last time, I had agreed to be the target.
I used my sleeve to wipe the beads of perspiration running down my face. “I don’t think this really counts as training. You seem to be enjoying this a little too much.”
“It is a lot nicer being on the throwing end of the knife than the receiving…” Arisella stuck her finger through the circular loop at the butt of the knife and spun it. “… but we haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet. This is the first training Bloodbourn children go through.”
“That’s barbaric! How did they not die?”
“Some did,” Arisella said gravely. “Our instructors told us it was how the strong were separated from the weak. Now, do you want to learn how to dodge a Bloodbourn blade, or not? You’re going to be doing a lot of it, so I expect you to pay attention.” She widened her stance and tightened her grip on the blade.
I halfheartedly got to my feet. “If we’re going to be practicing with knives, I don’t understand why I’m not training with your brother. He’s the Bloo
dbourn, anyway.”
Upon arriving at my house, I had been severely disappointed to discover Arisella waiting for me in front of my gate. When I had agreed to train, I had hoped it would be with Adrian, not his sister. I’d been under the impression that she would have preferred to kill me rather than help me.
She had led me into her backyard, which served as their private, walled training ground. The entire yard was just a grassy field choked by weeds, with a few massive trees jutting out of the ground every couple feet. Piles of knives were everywhere, on the ground, on racks, stuck in the trees, along with other weapons I couldn’t name.
“I’m just as good with knives as any other Bloodbourn. Anyway, Adrian’s busy doing a patrol for more caeci.”
“Are you better than Adrian?” I was trying to stall for time. The fewer sharp objects she threw at me, the better.
Arisella grimaced. “No,” she admitted reluctantly. “My brother’s… unusually talented with weapons. That doesn’t mean I’m untalented, though. You’re Beastbourn, I’m Beastbourn. I’m teaching you.”
“How do you know so much about the Bloodbourn, if you’re Beastbourn?”
“You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you? Ready yourself.” Arisella launched another blade at me, and I successfully darted out of its way. “Good. The reason I know so much is because for the first twelve years of my life, I thought I was Bloodbourn.”
“How?” I asked, genuinely interested.
Arisella suddenly appeared very tired. “It’s not a pleasant story, and I have to warn you, it doesn’t have a happy ending.”
“Realistic stories rarely do.”
She sat down and gestured toward the patch of grass beside her. “Sit.”
Grateful for such a fortunate break in training, I obeyed without hesitation. She played with another knife from the pile in front of her, spinning it more effortlessly than I would have spun a pen.
She exhaled slowly and began. “A Divinblood child will always possess the same ability as one of his parents. Always. No exceptions.” She looked up and tilted her head toward me. “Remember that.”
“Like, the daughter of a Strongbourn mother and a Spellbourn father must either be Spellbourn or Strongbourn, but not both and not anything else?”
Feral (The Irisbourn Chronicles Book 1) Page 13