by Gray Holborn
Arnell opened the door before Cyrus had a chance to knock, a bright grin splitting his face.
Arnell had one of those smiles that made it impossible to not reciprocate. It lit up his whole expression, extending a warm glow to his eyes.
“Awesome! You’re here,” he said, glancing shyly at Ro after nodding once to me and Cy.
Ro cleared his throat and nodded awkwardly, and I reminded myself to ask him again about what was going on between them. Whatever it was, they’d have to get over it if they were going to be quite literally shacking up together. Plus, I was all for Team Arnell when it came to Ro’s future happiness. I didn’t know him well, but it took just one single introduction to solidify that Arnell was a good person in my mind.
“Cool, well, come on in.” Arnell looked over at me again and scrunched up his nose. “Sorry you don’t get to join us yet, Max, but hopefully soon.” He turned to Cyrus. “Thanks sir, we’ll take it from here, have a good night.”
Ro grabbed my hand and squeezed without looking at me. Then he walked through the door, and my stomach sank. I felt like I was being a big baby, but when you went your whole life with only one absolute constant, changing it sucked and was hard.
Cyrus turned and walked further away from the campus. We walked in silence for a few minutes, the awkwardness of our new dynamic settling over me in uncomfortable waves. “Don’t worry, Max. I know this is going to be difficult for you both, it’s not easy for me either as much as I’d like to pretend otherwise. But you’ll be happy to know that Team Six is literally right next door, so it’s not like Ro is moving across the state.”
A slow grin crept across my face at this small concession. And we continued our trek in a much more companionable silence until we came up to an identical building to the one that had just swallowed up Ro and his suitcase of belongings.
Unlike Ten, however, Six didn’t give me a warm welcome home introduction.
Cyrus knocked and after a few minutes and what sounded like bickering, Eli swung open the door. He glanced briefly in my direction before looking back at Cyrus. “Thanks Uncle Cyrus, we’ll take it from here. She’s in good hands.”
With that dismissal, Cyrus nodded and turned to me like he wanted to say something. Instead, he swallowed the thought down, and turned to go to wherever his home was on this campus, while I followed Eli in and shut the door behind me.
I don’t know why, but I was sort of expecting it to smell like a locker room in here. Something about three dudes living together just didn’t scream clean and sparkly. But this place was spotless and absolutely stunning.
We walked into a large, rustic living room, with a huge TV and what looked like every video game console ever made. Deep, black leather couches framed the space—they were the kind of couches you could sink into and gladly be eaten up by. Perfect reading and Netflix-watching couches. I was practically swooning at the thought. Protectors certainly seemed to have unlimited sources of funds and I wondered again why Cy would give all of this up to live in our tiny tent of a house back home.
The living room opened up into a large kitchen with all new, stainless steel appliances and a large wooden island that looked to double as a bar. Everything was tidy and had its own place. It was like Marie Kondo had designed the setup for them and I found myself smiling at the idea of Eli in an apron cooking up a well-balanced meal for the boys and Decland when they were too lazy to walk to the cafeteria. This kitchen certainly explained why I didn’t see them there for every meal.
“Here, I’ll grab your bags,” Eli said, taking them from me awkwardly. He was avoiding eye contact and I got the impression he was extremely uncomfortable with having me here. His dark wavy hair was slightly wet and curling more than usual, like he’d just taken a shower. Instead of his usual workout gear, he was dressed in dark jeans and an olive-green sweater. I got a subtle waft of cologne and I half wondered if he was getting ready for a date later tonight.
I hadn’t seen the store clerk Eileen since walking in on her and Eli...erm...engaging in adult activities. And the thought of him seeing her again left a hollow, anxious hole in my stomach. How many girls would I have to worry about walking in on while living here? If need be, I could just keep to my room during visiting hours.
A door upstairs slammed shut, so someone else was here, just not part of the welcoming committee. I tried not to let it grate against my nerves, but it was weird to not feel welcome in the space where you were supposed to indefinitely be living. I felt like an unwanted intruder. Probably because I was. No one here had asked that I join their team, even if it was only temporary.
“I, uh, set up a room for you,” he said, leading me up the stairs and down a long hallway. We had one empty room. I hope you like yellow.”
“I can live with yellow,” I said. We walked past three shut doors, one of which had some loud rock music playing. It wasn’t a song I’d ever heard before. “Who’s the owner of the stereo?”
Eli scratched the back of his neck before opening the second-last door on the left. “Dec.”
Moody, angsty music? Yeah, I guess that was on brand for Declan. She’d been ignoring me, like Eli and Atlas, since their return from the mission. Before they left, I thought Declan and I had started to bond. She’d even hung out and watched movies with Izzy, Ro, and me. And while she didn’t seem completely comfortable in our company, I’d thought there was potential for friendship to grow eventually, albeit slowly. But now, things just seemed so different—closed off between us somehow.
“Where’s Atlas?” I asked, trying to shake off the tension rolling through my body.
“He was in a meeting with Alleva and probably went to sit with Wade for a bit.” Eli exhaled softly. “He’s been spending most of his free time there since the mission.”
The Alleva bit surprised me, but I welcomed the opportunity to ask about Wade. “How is he?”
Eli leaned against the door frame and let out a low sigh. He studied me, his warm, amber eyes so unreadable, like his thoughts and emotions were completely cut off from me. I watched as a single droplet of water fell from a curl down his face. He wiped it away absentmindedly. “Honestly?”
“Always,” I said.
At my answer, a sad, almost imperceptible grin pulled at his lips. “We don’t know. He hasn’t woken up yet and we’re not really sure why.”
“Was it a vampire attack?” I asked, pressing a finger against where I’d been bitten. It was becoming an unconscious habit. “Or werewolf?” There were other beasts of course, but those were the two The Guild seemed to focus on the most and the two most commonly spotted outside of the hell realm. They were also the most aggressive species when it came to attacks on humans. Probably why they held such real estate in human folklore. The myths emerged from half truths.
“Both. We don’t really know, none of us were there during the attack.” He swiped some hair off his forehead before rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed more fidgety than usual.
I shook my head, shocked. “Vampires and wolves were working together? Is that a thing?”
“No, it’s not. And forget I mentioned it, it’s not really something for students to be concerned with right now.” He shook his head, and I had a feeling that was all I was going to get out of him about the issue, because in the same breath, he turned and pushed into the room.
I peeked around the corner and grinned. The room was beautiful. Dark gray curtains framed a window that ran almost the full length of the room. It faced the woods, so I’d have lots of privacy which was nice. A huge king-size bed sat in the middle of the room, looking like a cloud with all of the pillows set up in perfect rows. My eyes were instantly drawn to a bookshelf. It was packed with novels and DVDs, which apparently were still a thing, and a small record collection.
“This room is amazing,” I said, plopping down on the bed. It was even more comfortable than it looked—the perfect mix of firm and soft. “It’s really mine? For now, I mean?”
A shadow of a grin li
fted his lips as he nodded.
“Who gets credit for decorating?” I couldn’t imagine any of the guys or Declan choosing yellow for a spare room, or organizing it so perfectly with accent details throughout.
A dark look crossed Eli’s face and he cleared his throat. “It belonged to someone else. We had a fifth on our team. Declan’s cousin, Sarah.”
The word lingered in the air like frost. Had.
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it. “When did she die?”
“About six months ago.” He sat down next to me and smiled softly, his expression lost in a memory as he looked over at me. “You would’ve liked her. She was hilarious and almost nonsensically brave. A real fucking force. Kind of like Declan in that way. Although she was American, so she didn’t have Dec’s awesome accent.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. I’d never lost anyone before. But so much as the thought of losing Ro or Cyrus, or even Izzy cut me to the core. Suddenly Declan’s distance, her guarded distrust made so much more sense. She was the loner of the group, that much had been obvious. But how much of it was because of her grief?
“Were Declan and Sarah close?” I lowered my voice, like I was trying to protect the fragile conversation. There was a vulnerability in Eli’s eyes that I hadn’t seen before.
“Like sisters. She doesn’t like to talk about her much anymore.”
I looked around at the room again, at all of the possessions lining the shelves. Suddenly it felt like a museum, an altar to a girl they’d all lost. It had been six months and no one had put away her things, or used the room. “Are you sure it’s okay that I stay here?”
He shrugged, his lips pulled down in the corner. “No other options. I’m sure it’ll be hard, for Dec especially, but she knows that you need a place to sleep. It’s time that we cleared out the cobwebs of the room and got to healing more fully.” Eli’s face flushed as he looked down at our grasped hands. I think we’d both forgotten we were touching. As if burned, he pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “But—uh—look, I wouldn’t mention her much. She was in the process of bonding to Wade and Atlas, so everyone is still pretty raw.”
I nodded, staring at the pale-yellow wall in front of us. “Right, totally. I won’t, I promise.” I felt weird sitting here suddenly, like I was sitting in the room of a ghost.
“Are, are you sure it’s okay, me staying here? I can take a different room, if you guys want to, you know, preserve this one or whatever. I can even take the couch if you want.”
Eli pushed himself off the bed and moved towards the door. “Nah, like I said, it’s cool. Honestly, I think it’s good to breathe new life into the room. It wigs me out, having it here unused. You can redecorate or whatever, if you want. I don’t know how long you’ll be here, but while you are, consider it and everything in it, yours.” And with that, he left, closing the door behind him.
Cool. So now I was moved in with a team that didn’t seem to really want me here, living in a dead girl’s room. A dead girl they all loved and were clearly still mourning. It wasn’t exactly a good way to inspire comradery or get on their good side.
I unzipped my suitcase, pulling out some pajamas to sleep in. I couldn’t bring myself to put my things away in the dresser or closet.
Suddenly, the absolute silence of the room unsettled my nerves, my chest tightening. Eli’s story about Sarah just served to iron in the realities of being a protector—and all the grief that came with it. For a brief second, I desperately wanted to run downstairs and see Ro. I’d have to settle with texting—it would be the first step towards severing my codependency.
And for the silence? I swept my fingers along the edge of records, pulling one out at random. Cy didn’t have much tolerance for music, so I didn’t grow up with much until I discovered Spotify. Even then, outside of various soundtracks, even I knew that my tastes were underdeveloped. After a minute of fidgeting with the record player, I figured it out, and listened as a slow, eerie, and almost sad song swept through the room, the sound somehow both crisp and smooth.
As I sat back against the pillows, I allowed myself to linger on the fact that Wade and Atlas had been bonded before. I tried to think about Atlas being warm to anyone. The protective edge was easy enough to imagine, but I wondered if he and Sarah had ever been something more.
And now, with Reza in the picture, I wondered how he really felt about The Guild slowly pushing him to bond again. It was clear from earlier today that Alleva had a very specific future in mind for him and her daughter.
My stomach tightened at the thought of Reza sleeping in this room. Would Wade be forced to bond with her too? Eli?
A sharp pressure in my jaw grounded me and I forced myself to relax the muscles in my face, to relax my hands that were suddenly balled into fists. I didn’t need to fit in with Six forever. Right now, I just needed to get through the night, and then I could sort through all of the new emotions whirling through my body like an unwelcome swarm of bees.
I took a deep breath in, letting the music roll over me.
Chapter Seven
Eli
I spent most of the night after Max’s arrival staring at my ceiling, listening to the records she was playing on the other side of my wall. I was never interested in Sarah. Hell, I’d practically grown up with her so she was sort of like a little sister. But now, I was acutely aware of the fact that there was a girl I was annoyingly interested in dancing around a few feet away from my bed. Her movements sounded chaotic and clunky, and it was clear she didn’t know the words to any of the songs that she played. There were several times I bit the inside of my cheeks to prevent the loud laugh from escaping.
My door smashed open, and I sat up, annoyed by the intrusion. Atlas walked into my room, throwing not-so-covert glances at the room Max now occupied, as if he could see her through the wall like fucking Superman. He wasn’t one for encroaching on privacy, so seeing him in my room without knocking threw me for a bit of a whirlwind.
What had his panties in a bunch?
“She’s here, then?” he asked. He scratched the stubble on his chin, and I grinned at his obvious discomfort.
Ah, there it was, that subtle muscle tick in his brow. Guess it wasn’t so much of a ‘what’ as a ‘who’ then. Getting stuck with someone new threw us all for a loop and we were all caught off guard. But when we learned that the person we’d be mentoring was Max...well, we were all a bit thrown. Especially since we’d recently agreed on keeping a careful, objective distance from her while we looked out for any future monsters she was likely to attract.
Alleva threw a wrench into that plan. And a colossal fucking wrench at that.
“She’s here. Been in her room all night though. I think she’s a bit afraid of us?” Afraid maybe wasn’t the right word. It was glaringly obvious however that she wasn’t comfortable around any of us. And honestly, that was totally fair. We’d been pretty hot and cold with her; I had anyway, Atlas was mostly just a consistent dickhead.
Did she feel the same pull that we did? Did Cyrus teach her about bonds at all? I doubted it. From what my father said, it seemed like Cyrus was, until recently, determined to live his life as a hermit exile, ignoring everything about the hell realm and our calling. What made someone like that suddenly choose to adopt two kids? And then why choose to suddenly come back, bulldozing into the life he’d abandoned so many years ago? It didn’t make sense, but my father blew me off any time I voiced the question.
“Good,” Atlas said, before plopping down unceremoniously in the chair across from my bed. He was exhausted. I hadn’t seen him like this in a while. Too many stressors were taking too much of a toll on him. If we weren’t careful, he was going to explode sooner rather than later. And none of us were equipped to handle the hurricane that was Atlas on the edge.
“How’s Wade?” I asked, though I knew that nothing had changed in his condition. If it had, Atlas would’ve been ten shades brighter and significantly more excited. The longer Wade stayed in this
weird coma, the more drained Atlas seemed to get. None of us would voice it out loud, but we all knew that each day that Wade didn’t wake up, we were creeping closer to the probability that he wouldn’t.
And now, at this point, I was half expecting to wake up one day and for Atlas to be gone. The mere thought of it made my stomachache. This team was my family, my home. And it felt like one-by-one, we were being picked off like we were all playing in a sadistic game of musical chairs. Only with monsters. And bureaucratic bullshit. Atlas was our leader, but Wade was our glue.
He shook his head, confirming my thoughts—no new developments. His eyes drifted towards my wall, and he cocked an eyebrow.
“She—er, found Sarah’s record collection,” I said, not quite meeting Atlas’s eyes. He hadn’t set foot in that room since Sarah died. No one had, really. Not until today when I tried to dust it off a bit and make it look hospitable. I cleared my throat and ran my hand through my hair, biting back a grin at the thought of Max on the other side of the wall, dancing to some Amy Winehouse. “What’s the play here, Atlas?”
“Play?” He kicked his head back and looked up at the ceiling, like the wood paneling held the answers to the universe. He exhaled softly, using his feet to roll the chair from side to side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that we all agreed to keep our distance from her.” I pointed to the wall in case he needed a reminder of how well that was working out. “Not exactly going to be possible now, is it? So how do you want to handle this?”
Silence. After a few impossibly long seconds, I was almost convinced he’d fallen asleep. He tilted his head forward, like he was trying to see into the next room, his brows pinching together.