by Gray Holborn
I spun around, the plush blue mat squeaking against my shoes. I moved towards Reza, feigning left but striking with my fist, twice in the side before pulling back. This time, the familiar heat was reignited across Reza’s features, animosity directed towards me like never before. She straightened up, circling around me like we were playing cat and mouse.
This was more like the Reza I was used to seeing on the sparring floor and I glanced briefly at Alleva to see a mildly intrigued, but otherwise unaffected expression on her face.
While Reza’s second approach was much more silent than the first, I struck out quickly, swiping her legs out from under her while her focus was on my fists and landing her next hit. She swore softly as the soft thud echoed around us. Kicking her legs up, she jumped back up, ready to go again, but I didn’t give her the chance.
In a flash, I had her pinned to the ground again.
And again. And again.
After a particularly gnarly kick to the thigh, I reached a hand out to pull Reza up. With a rough swat, she shoved me away before standing on her own, favoring her left leg just slightly. A renewed rage sparkled in her eyes, like she was visualizing all the ways she wanted to torture me. I had no doubt that each one was more gruesome than the last.
But then she dropped the cold glare and glanced at her mother again, her brows pinching slightly as she rubbed her left wrist against the hem of her pants.
Guilt sunk low in my belly, tightening its hold around my chest like an iron chain.
I wasn’t the one Reza was truly upset with. She hated me, sure. But it was a superficial sort of hate. This was something else entirely, something that had almost nothing to do with me.
Alleva walked up to me, sparing her daughter the briefest of glances. “That was well done, Maxine. I’m impressed.”
I cringed at the way she said my name, and her tone made it clear that while she might be impressed, she was most definitely not pleased with my arrival here. There was a venom in her expression that chilled me to the bone.
And then, just like that, I was dismissed as she turned on her daughter. “It is enormously clear that in my relatively brief absence, you’ve let your studies slide. That was one of the worst showings I’ve seen from you in months. You’re being ruled by your emotions, by anger and jealousy. I expect more from my blood and my legacy.” Her lip curled in barely-disguised disgust. “What I do not expect is for you to get obliterated by our newest recruit. You should be embarrassed for that showing.”
Reza paled significantly, and a rush of empathy coursed through my veins. No wonder Reza was so tightly wound and competitive. Her mother was next-fucking-level intense.
Uncomfortable with encroaching on this moment between mother and daughter, I inched back a few steps at a time until my feet were almost at the edge of the mat. Straightening, I stopped and leveled a stony look at Alleva.
“Reza is actually one of the strongest fighters The Guild has to offer, in my experience, mam. She’s the best I’ve fought at our age group, of that much I’m certain.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew that I meant them, surprising even myself. Reza would make one hell of a team member one day, if she could learn to speak to other people without poison eating through her words.
But I’d been training with Cyrus my whole life and with Atlas and his team since my arrival. What’s more, my attack outside the bar had renewed my passion for training, my desire to get stronger and move faster. Beating Reza was good, but my ability to best another protector was the least of my concerns. I’d been training to make sure that the next time I came across a hellbeast, I wouldn’t need to rely on Ralph or anyone else to come rescue me. Alleva was right, the stakes were too damn high.
My experiences and strengths weren’t Reza’s fault though and they didn’t diminish her own value.
When both women turned in a slow, exaggerated pivot, twin sets of blue piercing into my flesh, I knew that I’d made a mistake. My initial instinct had been right—I should have left them to their own business. Now, Alleva studied me, her temple pulsing slightly as her lip curled in disgust. And then there was Reza.
Steam was practically coming out of her ears and I was half convinced she’d suddenly developed the power to eviscerate me where I stood.
If she hated me before, then I didn’t even have a word for the emotion lapping at my skin like sandpaper now.
“Thank you for your astute observation,” Alleva bit out, each word punctuated with a full stop. “I am aware of my daughter's strengths, seeing as I have raised her and been in charge of her training throughout her entire life. That is not my issue. My issue is that she’s plateaued in her studies.” Her long fingers swept an invisible hair back from her face as she smoothed her platinum bob. “More importantly, Ms. Bentley, matters between my daughter and I have absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“Yes mam, you’re right,” I stammered, my heart beating rapidly against my chest. From the corner of my eye, I could see that we were attracting the attention of most of the groups sparring around us. I caught a glimpse of Izzy, her grey eyes rounded with concern. I could tell from her posture that she was warring with herself about whether or not to intervene on my behalf—a realization that thawed some of the ice leveled at me. “I’ll leave you both to your conversation.”
“Stop,” Reza said, halting my retreat as soon as my foot left the mat. “You don’t get to infiltrate this place, eavesdrop on private conversations, and ruin my life without answering for it. We go again.”
Reza’s posture was stiff, her eyes narrowed with the promise of pain. This wasn’t about sparring anymore, this was something else. If Alleva came to the same realization, she didn’t seem to care. Instead, she nodded to her daughter, as if in approval, before stepping back off the mat. She turned away from us, walking between the other matches, a single look from her enough to get everyone back to sparring with haste.
“Are you sure?” I asked Reza, the words lingering slow and quiet on my tongue.
As an answer, Reza’s fist crashed into my nose, a resounding crack ringing through my ears as the taste of copper filled my mouth. For a moment, I was absolutely stunned—this was against everything that Cyrus taught us—there was no waiting for the start, no acknowledged agreement.
Before I could shake myself out of it, Reza punched me in the gut, doubling me over.
“Now, now, Reza, let’s fight fair, no face hits,” Alleva called across from the gym, her words cold and disapproving, but there was also an odd pride to her tone. Clearly she hadn’t seen her daughter throw the punch before the match even started.
I could feel my face caked with blood as I pushed against the mat, trying to catch my grounding through my dry heaves. Reza’s foot slammed into my arm, most of her weight being used to keep me down.
“Whoops, that was an accident,” she said, as her other foot crashed into my head.
“Reza, enough!” This time Alleva’s voice held withering finality, and I saw her jump on the mat to pull her daughter off of me herself. “I’ll see you in my office, go there now. We clearly have a lot to discuss.”
I felt strong arms pick me up, and the warm, familiar face of Ro appeared above me. Concern shadowed his eyes, my own blood soaking a patch through his shirt. Nosebleeds were a bitch.
“Accidents happen,” Alleva said, clearly already bored with the situation. “Tonight, my daughter and I will have a long conversation about cordial sparring. Of that, I can assure you.”
I didn’t doubt it. We both knew what this was, a momentary reprieve for Reza to defend her honor and seek vengeance for my interference in her life. For beating her in front of her mother, for taking her spot in Six. Not something she’d get away with ever again, but this one time was enough. She’d won this battle.
And I, very clearly, was officially on Alleva’s bad side.
“Rowan, take her to the infirmary so that they can set the bones before her nose heals in an unfortunate position. It
’d be a shame to permanently mar that pretty face.”
Chapter Ten
Max
Getting bones reset was always worse than breaking them in the first place. Maybe because the offending spot was already screaming something awful at you in terms of pain receptors. Maybe because you knew it was coming in a way that you probably didn’t know with the initial break. Probably both.
All I knew was that my brief excitement about seeing my favorite nurse—Greta—almost instantly deflated as soon as she looked at me with those wise, wrinkly eyes, laced with pity and empathy.
After fixing my nose and assessing my arm and the rest of my face, she gripped my shoulder in her warm hand, pushing me back against the pillow.
“Seems we are destined to keep meeting like this, Ms. Bentley. Damn shame.” Her wild gray hair flapped slightly as she shook her head. “We medical workers go into the business of helping people, but that tends to mean we only interact with them when they need help.”
“Thanks for fixing me up, Greta,” I grumbled, feeling guilty for the barrage of elaborate cursing she had to suffer through a few moments ago. “I appreciate it.”
A large smile carved across her face as she turned to Ro. “You go on and get back to your classes, Mr. Bentley. This isn’t like last time. Just a quick break. She’ll be up and out of here in a couple hours or so. She just needs some rest.”
Ro grumbled a bit, but even he was incapable of arguing with the headstrong nurse. After making me promise I’d text him when I left the infirmary, he reluctantly left.
“Thanks for that too,” I grunted, pushing myself up into more of a seated position. “Ever since the attack at Vanish, he gets that worried mother hen look on his face whenever I’m hurt now. It’s like he’s terrified any little thing will result in my permanent demise.” I winked at her playfully. “But if I can take on a vamp and live to tell the tale, then Reza’s fist doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Ah well, go easy on the boy. You scared him last time you were brought in here. You missed it, being unconscious and all, but he was in a frenzied state, let me tell you. Bringing you back down to visit me probably just dredged all that up a bit, is all. Give him time.”
She brought a wet rag over to help me wipe up some of the blood that had dried and crusted on my arm. Unfortunately, my sports bra would be soaked until I could get it home and in the wash. All of a sudden, I remembered that when I’d be leaving here, I’d be going back to the cabin with Six. Did they have a laundry room? I hadn’t exactly gotten a tour. Hell, I still didn’t even have a damn key.
Greta wiggled her nose a bit as she moved some things over on my tray. Mischief played out across her eyes as she studied me. “I had to get a new key card you know. Seems I lost mine around the last time you visited me. Damn shame. Hopefully it didn’t end up in the wrong hands.”
I started to grin, but reined it in at the last minute. My face felt like it had been bulldozed by a truck, so it was in my best interest to limit my expressiveness until the bones healed up a bit. “Damn shame,” I echoed.
She let out a harsh, raspy chuckle before moving towards the door. “It’s not your first broken bone, I’m sure, so you know the deal. Try and rest a bit for a couple hours until the bulk of the pain is gone, then you’re free to go and return to your Saturday plans. If I remember correctly, you have quite the way with healing, so I’m sure you’ll be right as rain in record time.”
I never understood that phrase, right as rain. But it echoed through my thoughts as I dozed in and out for a couple hours. Better that and Greta’s oddly musical laugh than all the ways I was going to make Reza pay.
When I came to, I felt almost completely healed. While Greta had been talking about my almost miraculous healing from a vampire bite, I had never been a particularly fast healer—not nearly as fast as Ro anyway. Hell, even after that attack, while my vamp wounds vanished quickly, my other injuries from that night took a hell of a lot longer.
Not this time, though. Carefully, I pressed my fingers into the skin on my face, walking my hands across the bridge of my nose, my forehead, and orbital bones.
No pain.
My nose was still crusted with dried blood, and I probably still had some bruising coloring my skin, but otherwise I felt completely normal. Maybe it was because I was getting so close to my nineteenth birthday—the year when I would ‘officially’ come into my protector power and be an adult in this community.
If it meant I wouldn’t have to live with injuries for as long as I’d had to in the past, then I was all about getting older.
I jumped out of bed, sliding my shirt over my sports bra and stretching my arms from side to side, getting rid of any leftover stiffness from the fight. My bag was settled on a chair near my bed and I let out a sigh of gratitude for Ro. He’d managed to collect it, along with me, on his way to depositing me at Greta’s door.
Generally, I wouldn’t care much about having my stuff with me, but these days I never left my room without making sure that Greta’s keycard was somewhere close by—either tucked into my leggings or else stashed in my gym bag.
The room was cast in shadow, the hallway much quieter than it had been when I’d arrived. If I had to guess, I’d say we were getting close to dinner time, so most people were probably camped back at their rooms or else in the cafeteria filling up on some food.
A flickering light danced in the hallway, casting the floor in a cadence of shadows. I made my way a few doors down, before making sure I was truly alone. I wasn’t exactly clear on what the visiting hours were in the infirmary, and I didn’t want to get on Greta’s bad side. She’d proven herself to be more than formidable. Hell, the first time I’d encountered her, she’d had even Atlas listening and catering to every demand.
Satisfied that I was indeed alone, I pushed my way into the room. A gentle whir of machine buzzing filled my ears as I crept closer to the bed. He was still, like he was trapped in nothing more than a pleasant dream, his chest moving up and down to the rhythm of my own.
There was a chair on the left side of his bed, one that I’m sure Atlas had spent countless nights dozing in as he stood guard over his brother, desperate for him to snap out of whatever sort of hold had his mind trapped.
I sat down, carefully reaching for Wade’s hand, the skin smooth against my own, save for a few calluses he’d earned from weapons work.
“I miss you,” I muttered, feeling slightly ridiculous for talking to a man in a coma—and one I only barely knew, really. Except for some reason, even though his presence in my life had been brief, I felt like he was a part of me—destined to be a big part of my life. Other than Izzy, he was probably my first friend here, the first one to really make me feel comfortable. Safe.
I reached up to his face, taking advantage of the fact that I was alone, sweeping his cheek gently with my thumb. Smooth, brown skin, deceptively soft.
The machine nearest me jumped slightly, the beeping speeding up. I sat up, looking around the room before turning back to Wade. Was that normal?
After a moment, the machine settled back down to the familiar bu-bump it’d been singing since the second I opened the door.
A long yawn pulled from my mouth, a sudden wave of exhaustion creeping over me. Greta told me to stay down here for as long I needed rest, but she didn’t necessarily say that the rest had to occur in my room.
Butt in the chair, I scooched closer to Wade’s bed until I could comfortably lean down and rest my head on the firm block that passed as a mattress down here. Slowly at first, and then all at once, sleep pulled me under.
When my eyes opened, I was standing inside a large entryway, the walls decorated in lavish webs of gold and silver. A soft glow washed over the room, the gradual flickering reminiscent of a symphony of candles, though I couldn’t see any from where I stood.
I took a step forward as a tendril of silk brushed against my calf. Looking down, I saw that I was dressed in a deep red gown, the color warming the tan shade of my s
kin. With a steady hand, I touched my hair, noticing the heavy locks were brandished up in a complex series of knots and braids.
Soft, instrumental music echoed down the hall, and I followed the sound at a leisurely pace. I wasn’t entirely sure where I was, but something about this place felt familiar, right, somehow. Wherever I was going, I didn’t feel rushed or hurried.
Turning down the long hall, I walked up to a large double set of doors, the wood thick and heavy enough that I had to exert force to open them. Before me, more gold and silver decorated the ballroom, with complex paintings winding around the walls and ceiling.
It was odd, but the place was both empty and full of people. Each time I tried to look at a face, the individual vanished, replaced by another faceless shadow, and then another.
“You’re here,” a soft, deep voice said from behind me. There was familiarity in the tone, and even a hesitant fear. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I turned around and was met with a pair of cool, blue eyes.
Wade.
The soft glow of the room brought a renewed warmth to his skin, though his eyes were heavy, like he hadn’t slept in days. Like me, he was dressed for some peculiarly lavish affair, head-to-toe in rich black with accents of textured gold.
“Where is here, exactly?” I asked, closing the distance between us until we were barely a foot apart. The rush of phantoms around us all but sunk back into the background, as if they’d done their part in uniting us and could now rest.
Wade’s eyes narrowed slightly in frustration, a wrinkle forming between his brows. Without hesitation, I reached my thumb up to smooth it away.
“I don’t really know, I’ve been trying to figure it out. I’ve seen pictures of this place before. I think—I think this is where my parents met.”
My eyes bent in curiosity as I took in the odd, almost Victorian setting around us. “Really? What makes you say that?” The details of the room were simultaneously vibrant and unclear, like I could only focus on isolated parts. “Something feels off, here.”