by Karen Lynch
Sahir removed his mask and shook his head. “I’ve never seen karks behave this way. They didn’t go after anyone but Sara.”
“Something on her clothes attracted them.” Nikolas strode over to the pile of white bodies and yanked my hoodie out from under them. “Look at this.”
I barely held back a gasp when I saw the tattered remains of what I had been wearing a few minutes ago. The karks’ sharp teeth had literally shredded it before Sahir could knock them out. Coldness spread through me when it hit me what would have happened if Nikolas hadn’t gotten to me when he did.
Tristan’s face hardened. It was the first time I had ever seen him this angry. “Have that garment examined. I want to know exactly what happened here.” He addressed one of the younger warriors I only knew as Ben. “Get something to put these things in before they wake up. And we’re going to need the cleanup crew in here.”
“Yes, sir,” Ben said before rushing to follow his orders.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tristan asked me again. Concern colored his voice after seeing the damage to my hoodie.
“I’m fine.” Or I would be after a very, very long hot shower.
Jordan had abandoned her fire hose and walked over to join us. “Sara, you look like you just won a wet T-shirt contest,” she announced, causing more than one male head turned my way.
“What?” I croaked and looked down at the pale yellow V-neck clinging to me in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Heat enflamed my cheeks, and I yanked the wet material away from my chest.
Nikolas stepped in front of me, and I stared at his broad back as he blocked me from the others in the room. A surge of gratitude wiped out my annoyance at him from a few minutes ago. I would never understand him. One minute he did or said something that made me want to hit him, and the next he did something nice like this.
Once I had arranged my T-shirt so it no longer looked like a second skin, I stepped out from behind him, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt. The first face I saw was Chris’s, and he quirked one corner of his mouth at me but wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
“Nikolas, we need to talk when you have a minute,” Tristan said, and Nikolas nodded tersely. There was an undercurrent in their communication that I couldn’t read, but it sounded serious.
“If you don’t need me, I’d like to get cleaned up,” I said to Tristan, who glanced at Nikolas and told me to take the rest of the day off. I wasted no time escaping to my room where I spent half an hour showering kark poop out of my hair and skin and mourning the loss of my St. Patrick’s hoodie and my favorite jeans. I stood in front of my bathroom mirror drying my hair and wondering if Roland could score another hoodie for me. I hadn’t really been involved in much at high school, but now that I was no longer there, I found myself holding onto the things that reminded me of that part of my old life.
I felt immeasurably better once I was clean, and I was trying to decide how to spend the afternoon when my stomach growled loudly. It was lunchtime, and I’d barely touched my breakfast, but I was loath to go down to the dining hall. I was pretty sure that by now, the whole place knew what had happened and everyone was asking the same question. Why had the karks attacked only me?
It was a question I had avoided thinking about since I left the main hall. If karks did not attack people, someone had to have done something to send them after me. And if Nikolas was right and something on my clothing had attracted them, then how did it get there? Or more importantly, who put it there? It had to be someone in the hall, or at least someone I’d come into contact with today. I made a mental list of everyone I had been near this morning and quickly dismissed it. Nikolas and Chris would never harm me, and I found it difficult to believe Jordan or Olivia would either. Besides, the two girls had sat across the table from me at breakfast and neither of them got close enough to touch me. There was too much chaos in the main hall to remember who had been near me. The only people I recalled touching me were Nikolas, Tristan, Chris, Michael, and Celine.
The last name gave me pause. Celine obviously disliked me, and we had been in very close contact when I fell on top of her, which would have given her ample opportunity to mark my clothes with something that would attract the karks. And she had taken off right after that. I stared out my window without seeing anything. Could jealousy really have driven her to try to hurt me?
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that thought. Celine jealous of me? Hardly. She was stunningly gorgeous and could have any man she desired. There was no need for her to do something so drastic when she could easily have Nikolas if she wanted him. And if he wanted someone like her then . . . oh, what did it matter to me anyway?
Snatching up the phone, I dialed Roland’s number. He should be just now getting home from school and I needed to hear his voice.
“Hey,” he answered breathlessly like he had been scrambling for his phone. “Everything okay?”
I carried the phone over to my bed where I flopped down on my back. “Why do you think something is wrong?”
“Well, because you never call this early and I haven’t heard from you in two days.”
My free hand slapped my forehead. Crap. Nikolas’s sudden return threw me off so much yesterday that I’d forgotten to call Roland. Now I had to tell him about the karks and the lamprey demons all at once. “It’s been kind of nuts here the last few days. Nikolas came back yesterday.”
“Ah.” It was amazing how one syllable could hold so much meaning.
“That’s not all.” I filled him in on the disastrous trip to Boise, deliberately making the whole demon attack sound a lot less scary than it had been. No need worrying him when he could do nothing about it. I did include the part where I blew up the demon.
“Whoa! You weren’t kidding about your power getting stronger.”
“Yeah, well I could have done without the shower of blood and guts.”
He brushed off my revulsion in typical male fashion. “I think it rocks. I’m just surprised Nikolas let you go off to Boise in the first place. You know, with him being the way he is.”
“He wasn’t here, and even if he had been, he doesn’t tell me what to do,” I declared irritably.
Roland chuckled. “Uh-oh. What did he do now?”
“He didn’t do anything. It’s just been a crazy few days. First the lamprey demons, then Nikolas shows up and tells me he is training me, and then – ”
“Hold up. Nikolas is training you?” Roland burst into laughter.
I scowled at the ceiling. “Remind me again why I call you.”
“S-sorry. I just can’t help picturing him trying to teach you how to use one of those swords. Can the Mohiri re-grow limbs?”
“Oh shut up,” I retorted, but a smile crept across my face because I was pretty sure Nikolas wasn’t foolhardy enough to put a sword in my hand.
“Well, at least it’s not boring there.” He sighed heavily, and it was my turn to ask him what was wrong.
“I hate this. It’s our senior year; we should be hanging together: you, me, and Pete. School totally sucks without you.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“No?” Roland groaned. “Do you know how hard it is to pretend to be sad over your best friend’s death when you know she is still alive and well?”
I tried to put myself in his shoes and couldn’t. “That’ll get easier soon. I bet people have already started to forget about me.”
“You still don’t get how much people noticed you, do you? People at school talk about you all the time.”
“They do?” That shocked me, considering how few friends I’d had at St. Patrick’s. Other than Roland and Peter, I could only think of one other, a boy name Jeffrey who I’d sat with at lunch every day.
“I told you it’s not the same here. Even Scott is different since you disappeared. Pete thinks he misses you.”
“Ha! Now I know you’re messing with me.”
“Seriously, he is not the same guy. He
doesn’t say much anymore, and he’s even nicer to people. I heard he broke up with Faith two days ago.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. There had been animosity between me and Scott for years, and it was strange to think he might be affected by my death. It was more likely that he had changed because he no longer had the negative emotions my undine side brought out in him. Maybe not having me around was actually making him a better person. Wow. Now that was a depressing thought.
A knock at the door stopped me from delving further into that line of thinking. “Hold on, Roland, someone’s at my door.”
I didn’t try to hide my surprise when I opened the door to find Jordan, cleaned up and holding a plate of sandwiches and two bottles of water.
“I figured you were avoiding the dining hall and might be hungry,” she explained, breezing past me to lay the plate and bottles on my desk.
“I’ll call you back later, Roland,” I told him, and we said good-bye.
Jordan walked around the room, studying my photos and drawings. “Nice. Did you draw these?”
“Um, yes.”
“Is that your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“He’s hot for an old guy.” She finished her little tour and flopped down on my bed as if she’d done it a hundred times before.
I hadn’t moved from the door. “What do you want, Jordan?” In my experience, other girls did not visit me to hang out. They usually went out of their way to avoid me. I reminded myself it was only human girls who were naturally repulsed by my undine side, but after years of being shunned, it was hard to believe otherwise.
She actually looked a little hurt by my question, and I regretted my curt tone. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“Me too. I don’t usually like many people. Olivia is nice but she is such a girl, if you know what I mean. I didn’t care for you either when you first got here, but you’ve changed my mind.”
I closed the door and went to sit in my desk chair. “Thanks, I think.”
Jordan sat up and ran her finger along the outline of one of the birds on my grandmother’s quilt. “This is nice. Did your mom make it?”
I laughed harshly. “My mother took off when I was two, and if she had made anything I would have burned it before I brought it here with me. My grandmother made it.”
“Ouch! Someone has serious mommy issues.”
“If you came here to make fun of me, you know where the door is.”
“Geez, chill, will you? I get the whole anger thing. You aren’t the only orphan here with a sad story.” She got up and came over to grab a sandwich and a bottle of water. “Why don’t we eat and you can tell me again how there is absolutely nothing between you and Nikolas Danshov?”
“I told you, there is nothing going on between us. He’s my trainer and that is all.”
She laid her food and water on my nightstand and sat on the bed again. “Uh-huh. That’s why he threw himself over you like a living shield.”
I chuckled. “You really don’t know Nikolas. That’s what he does – he protects people, and he would have done it for anyone.”
Jordan let out a burst of laughter. “As much as I wish Nikolas would want to come running to my rescue – not that I need any man to rescue me – it will never happen. You didn’t see his face when he saw you getting attacked. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.”
“I wish someone would tell Nikolas and Tristan I don’t need a man to protect me,” I grumbled.
“Males are just wired that way,” Jordan explained through a mouthful of food. “You’re tough but you have this whole vulnerable look going on that gets their testosterone in a twist. Of course, I’m pretty sure it’s more than that with Nikolas after seeing him downstairs. When you were standing there all wet and he moved in front of you – the look he gave those other guys . . . brrrrr. He did everything but pee a circle around you to mark his territory.”
“That is totally absurd. And thanks for that disgusting visual by the way.”
She gave me a long searching stare. “You simply cannot be that clueless. Anyone with eyes can see the sparks between you two.”
I looked away from her and unwrapped my sandwich. Before I could take a bite, Jordan let out a squeal. “Oh my God! You really have no idea, do you?” When I didn’t answer, she jumped off the bed and bounced up and down on her feet like she had just won a prize.
“What?” I asked defensively.
She fell on the bed, howling with laughter, and I watched her with growing irritation. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together and sat up, wiping her eyes. “I love it! Celine’s been throwing herself at Nikolas for years and he chose a sweet little orphan over her. She must be positively insane with jealousy. Oh how I wish she had stayed around to see him go all caveman on the other guys over you.”
“He did not choose me, and I certainly don’t want him.” I slumped in my chair, wondering why I’d ever thought it might be nice to have a girlfriend to discuss girl matters with. I was sure my face must be glowing like an ember now. “Can we please talk about something else?”
Jordan took a drink from her water bottle then made a face. “Sure, but it won’t be nearly as fun as talking about Nikolas.”
Anything would be better than that subject. “I get why Celine might not like me.” Jordan snorted at my choice of words, but I ignored her. “But why do you dislike her so much?”
“Are you kidding? Unless you have a penis, that woman is a total bitch to you. She always favors the boys in training. Thank God she is only here a few times a year.”
“So, she would have disliked me anyway just for being a girl?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Yes, but you are an extra special case.”
“How long have you lived here?” I already knew that all of the trainees here except for Terrence were orphans. Other than Michael, I didn’t know anyone else’s story. Jordan was brash and fearless and different from the others, and I wondered if she had been like that in her old life.
A shadow passed over her face. “My mother dumped me when I was four and I started telling people about the little person in my head. I guess it didn’t help that I was also beating up kids twice my size. No one else in her family wanted to take me, so I ended up in our wonderful foster-care system. I got passed around a lot. No one wants a kid with voices in her head who has to see a shrink twice a week for anger issues.”
She flicked her blond hair back, and her eyes filled with pride. “But I always knew I was different for a reason. When I was ten, I ran away from the last shithole they dumped me in. I was living on the street for three weeks before Paulette ran across me by accident. As soon as she spoke to me, I knew she was like me, and she didn’t have to ask me twice to go with her. She took me to Valstrom, which is their compound in northern California, and I lived there until I came here two years ago. Do you know I was the oldest orphan ever reclaimed . . . until you?”
“Nikolas mentioned that.” Jordan’s coldness toward me in the beginning made sense now. Her old life had been pretty rotten, and then she came here where she felt loved and special and, according to Michael, number one in everything she did. Then I came along and everyone was talking about the orphan who survived out there for seventeen years. I stole her spotlight, and even if it was unwilling on my part, she had resented me for it. At least she seemed to have gotten past that now.
Her eyes widened. “Nikolas mentioned me?”
“He told me you were ten when they found you and all the other orphans were no older than seven.” Seeing her expression at hearing that Nikolas had spoken of her, I omitted the fact that he hadn’t said her name, just that the orphan had been a girl. The smile that lit up her face was worth the tiny omission.
“How did Nikolas find you anyway?” she asked around a mouthful of food.
“I was at a club in Portland with my friends,” I said vaguely. “A few days later, he tracked me down and told me what I was. I wasn�
��t too happy about it.”
She tossed me an incredulous look. “Why not?”
“It totally freaked me out to learn I had a demon inside me. Didn’t it bother you?”
“Are you kidding? I found out that not only was I not crazy like everyone said I was, I was immortal and had superpowers. I was like, ‘Hell yeah, where do I sign up?’”
I chewed thoughtfully own my sandwich. She and I had such different pasts. I’d had my dad and then Nate to love and care for me, not to mention my friends. Growing up in foster care and living on the street at age ten, it was no wonder she had embraced her Mohiri heritage. I never realized how fortunate I was compared to people like her and Michael who had it a lot rougher than I did.
Jordan laid her half-eaten sandwich on the nightstand and stood. “I think you and I are going to be great friends. And to show what an awesome friend I am, I’m going to prove to you that I am right about your warrior.”
“What do you mean?”
She walked into my closet. “You hide yourself under those awful hoodies, but I saw you in that wet T-shirt and it is a shame to cover that up all the time.”
“I am not hiding, and there is nothing wrong with the way I look. I happen to like my clothes because they are comfortable and practical.”
“Boring,” she sang from the depths of my closet. “Don’t you have anything in here besides these ratty jeans and tennis shoes?”
“Hey, I like those jeans.”
She emerged from the closet. “Let me guess, you had all male friends back home and not one girlfriend.”
“So?”
“So a girlfriend would have made sure you had at least a couple of decent outfits so you could dress like a female from time to time. Thank God you have me now.”
“I thought you liked me because I wasn’t too girlie.”
Jordan swept a hand up and down her body, which was clad in jeans that probably cost more than three of mine and a pretty black top with a Grecian-style yoke neck. “Do I look girlie to you? No, I look hot. Trust me, there’s a difference.”