Chapter Eleven
Tomás
I opened my eyes and for a heartbeat I couldn’t remember where I was, my mind so damn silent after what felt like an eternity of living with noise. Just noise. Whether it was the screeching of freight trains, the rumbling of airplanes landing at Midway, or the police sirens as they chased someone, noise always filled my brain. The last couple of days, it had been Miguel and Jack filling up space in my mind. Blaming me. Sometimes Daniel. But as I lay in bed contemplating my sore but sated body, the room that felt so foreign, not mine, and the emptiness of all negative thought, I felt good.
No nightmares.
I hugged the pillow to my face and inhaled Kieran’s scent. My body and heart reacting dangerously close to contentment. Kieran was back. Back! Last night had been an emotional rollercoaster, but my heart felt lighter and my mind silent. Kieran and I would go back to the way things were. I’d wait until he was ready to come out and we’d take whatever this was day by day. My heart would probably hate me later, but I had to live for the now. Later wasn’t guaranteed.
I felt a spark of giddiness, stupid happy. Like when Dad would take my side over Nick—which was rare.
I waited for that negative voice to come creeping back but got nothing. Not even my mom’s bullshit voice. I showered, dressed, and went downstairs to eat, my stomach reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything greasy in days. The house smelled of onions, garlic, meat sizzling on a pan. Morgan cooked whenever he was nervous. I wouldn’t say we were friend-friends. Morgan played in the band, but he kept mostly away from Jack and Amir. But he wasn’t a dick about it either. I got the impression he just wanted to survive college, do something with his future. I respected that. I wanted the same thing.
“What time is it?” I asked as I pulled a water bottle from the fridge and took my throat meds. With the school on lockdown there were no classes and time seemed not to matter much when you weren’t required to be anywhere.
“2:00. You needed your rest.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “Are you sharing?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I have more than enough.”
Thank God.
“Need help?”
“Nah, I’m done.” He put everything on a couple of plates, and we sat behind the counter to eat.
The first bite made me ravenous. “I’m either starving, or this is so good. Where’d you learn to cook?”
“YouTube mostly.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal. “My mom was a club whore. I had to find a way, you know?”
Yeah. I knew.
“She died a few years ago. Maddox set me up here.”
I stiffened. Jack had also been at Arcadia through a Maddox scholarship after Maddox killed his old man. “Did he kill her?”
He gave me a you’re stupid look with a smile. “Nah, she OD’d.”
I almost let out a relieved breath but that would’ve been inappropriate too. “Sorry.” He nodded. “Was Amir here on a Maddox scholarship too?” Because Jack was and he wanted to kill me.
“Yeah, all three of us were. You?”
The food turned heavy in my stomach. “Yeah.”
I wondered how many of the students here were orphaned because of Maddox fucking Brennan. And why the hell did I feel guilty for being blood related to the killer?
“I think they’re going to rule Amir’s death an accidental drowning.” Morgan did not look relieved.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
He turned to me. His brow folded as if trying to pick out my brain. He got up, took both our plates and washed them, put them away, dried his hands, and turned to me. Like Dasher when he was trying to teach me something, Morgan looked as if he were carefully picking out his words so I’d understand. What Miguel used to say, dumbing it down for me. “This school was built on the fucked-up idea of Zeus and his bastards, right?”
I nodded. Dasher had explained this to me. The reason the Ark Boys came about, and they all had Greek sigils. Kieran’s was the little dipper for Arcas. One of Zeus’s bastard sons he had to protect from his wife.
“The gladiator games were originally held after a death. They believed that filling the ground with blood would help the dead pass on to the afterlife. They were called funeral games.”
“But we can’t be killed inside the grounds.”
“We can during the funeral games.” He let that sink in for a moment. “The purpose isn’t to kill, but if someone dies as a result there won’t be any consequences.”
“That’s fucked up,” I said, because it really was fucked up.
“The students here are creating alliances for protection. We have a better chance at survival with our limbs intact if we stay in a group.” He pulled his collar revealing the juncture between his neck and shoulder and the new ink he had there. Of course I recognized it. I had the same one on my hand. Seven dots when linked created the little dipper for Arcas. Kieran’s brand. I suddenly felt sick.
“Are you okay?” he asked. The dark swirl of ink peeked out onto his neck. I hadn’t noticed it before he mentioned it, now it was all I saw.
Kieran’s brand. The one that meant they were tethered. Morgan belonged to Kieran now, just like me. I imagined all his ex’s wearing the Arcas brand and it made me sick.
No, I wasn’t okay. I was the biggest fucking idiot on the damn planet. I got to my feet, needing to get as far away from Morgan as I possibly could.
“I know you have one too,” he said, defensively. His eyes lowered to my hand which I had wrapped up.
“No. I don’t.” The food turned into a brick in my stomach. “I gotta go.”
I sprinted back to my room and made it to the bathroom in time to dry heave. Kieran hadn’t come back for me. The fucking bastard had been gone three months! And I thought when he came back last night that he’d come for me. Did he come as a Brennan dignitary? Did he come for his friends? If Amir hadn’t died, would he have come back at all?
No. Of course not.
Because he hadn’t come for me. He could find a fuck anywhere in New York. He didn’t have to slum anymore.
The bathroom had been cleaned up. The mirror gone. Kieran had cleaned it last night. Like he had cleaned the kitchen. I splashed water on my face until I felt like myself again.
Morgan was already gone when I left the house.
Harper House was one of a series of five similar houses on the same path. The cloudy skies overhead threatened rain again. Spring rains were so damn cold. It sucked. I shoved my hands inside my pocket, hood over my head, and walked. I didn’t blame Morgan for inking himself if what he said about the funeral games was true. Being protected by the Ark Boys was the best protection you could have in this place. But what possible reason did Kieran have to brand him? They weren’t fucking. So why? I had thought the brand meant something more than protection. I thought I’d been the only one.
Stupid. I was fucking stupid.
I wanted to find Dasher to rant and rave. I hadn’t done that in a while with him. But telling Dasher how I let Kieran get in my head again, how I thought I was fucking special wearing his brand, made me an idiot. I couldn’t say it. Saying it made it real.
Not looking where I was going, I almost rammed into Zarek. I didn’t know the guy, just knew of him. He hung out with Ashton and some others who were equally jock-like and assholes. Already in a prickly mood, I glared at him.
“What?” he said, puffing out his rather large chest. His bookend, Beck, right behind him.
I wasn’t against old school fist fights, but I was fucking tired. In my head and bones. When I slumped into my hoodie and kept walking, they chuckled. “You won’t be able to run forever.”
Yeah, I actually could. I was a good runner.
The theatre was empty. Dasher kept to the changing rooms at the back of the stage. I had intended to talk through the mess of emotions running rampant in my mind with him. Dasher knew about Kieran and me. He knew about Maddox. He knew almost everything about me.
Almost.
But I stopped short when I reached his space. He wasn’t alone.
“He was released last night. You can’t tell us he doesn’t know anything,” Ashton said. Ashton and I had become sort of friends after we won the flag wars against the Ark Boys. He had scapegoated me so that left a dent in our friendship status. I didn’t trust him.
Dasher was sorting costumes. We’d finished the spring musical a few days ago. It felt like months. “I haven’t seen him.”
Ashton and his sister Ashlee were standing together like a pair of tragedies. Micah and Charity, their bookends. Except Ashlee, they all had helped me bring down the Ark Boys during the flag wars. We had won but were hazed for it with me being scapegoated. Sue me if I didn’t trust them.
I broke cover and entered the space with all eyes on me. My soles squishing on the otherwise glossy wood floors as I walked to Dasher. He gave me an eyebrow raise. Everything’s fucked .
I plopped down on my rolling chair.
“What’s going on? You must know something.” Ashlee asked, bypassing the greeting part. She’d been Kieran’s longest girlfriend, and everyone knew she wanted him back. I couldn’t help but eyeball her hand to see if she had a brand. Nope. I didn’t see one. That didn’t mean she didn’t have one somewhere else.
“Why don’t you ask your ex-boyfriend,” I cranked out, bristling with jealousy I hoped didn’t prod through. “He’s back.”
Her eyes lit up as if she’d been given permission to binge eat rocky road ice cream with extra fudge.
“Ashlee, drop it,” Ashton said. “The fucker doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
I pointed at Ashton. “Smart man.”
But they still weren’t leaving.
“Look, all I know is that Jack’s drugs were tainted, so keep away from that shit. That’s it. That’s all I got.”
“Can’t you get more information? You’re one of them.”
“I’m not, and no.”
Micah shook his head and stormed out. He wasn’t my responsibility. None of them were. Let them find their own information. I was about to tell them that when Micah returned, and he wasn’t alone. The god of chaos stood at his side. Or at least that’s what the guy looked like. He was about my age, if not a few years older. Not bulky, but elegantly lined. He moved like liquid death—not the H2O kind. Slow, languid, but lethal. Everyone in the room seemed to have held their breath. I was sure Ashton was going to piss himself any minute now. The newcomer slowly dragged his whiskey-colored eyes over everyone in the room. Pulling things apart in slow increments. He quickly dismissed the girls. Roved his eyes over Dasher with a flare of his nostrils and perused Ashton longer.
I looked between them and felt bad for Ashton. He may have been an entitled prick but he wasn’t a bully. I hated bullies. Never mind that I used to be one when I ran with my brothers.
“Tomás?” My name sounded like warm syrup on his lips. The guy’s voice was smooth stone, edged with enough grit to make him sound sultry. Or threatening without trying to be threatening. His wavy brown hair was parted in the side and fell across his eyes.
Ashton looked strangely relieved and pointed at me.
Thanks, dude.
My throat still hoarse, I managed a croaky, “Hey,” drawing the guy’s attention. Dasher sneered at me. I shrugged. Too late now. “Welcome to the theater department.” Charity gave me her glare of death. Considering I almost got her killed after the flag wars, I didn’t blame her for being cautious of my brilliant ideas. “I’m Tomás,” I rambled on like a Mack truck with a busted engine. “Are you considering joining the theatre?”
The whispered groan from Dasher suggested that had been the wrong thing to say. The corner of the guy’s lip twitched, and his eyes gleamed with a hint of malicious mirth. They were warm brown, lighter than even mine. Except warm was the wrong word to use with this guy. His eyes were intensely focused, rigid. Not cold but something that drew attention to my very mortal lifespan. I understood why Ashton had looked about to pee himself. Ashlee held on to her brother while Charity refrained from her usual flirty self. Dasher stood so still I almost forgot he was there. And Micah had already bolted out of the building as soon as he’d been forgotten.
Those whiskey-colored eyes were laser focused on me. I’d seen the eyes of madness in Miguel. He’d never been diagnosed as a psychopath, but we all had suspected something off about him. But even with Miguel’s crazy stare, I’d never seen eyes so deep in darkness. There was a lulling drift to them. The danger an allure that made me curious. It wasn’t exactly the way I felt with Kieran. Throughout it all, Kieran always gave me control when I needed it. This guy would not give me control. He’d take it freely.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” he said. His voice vibrated the air between us. Ashton and Ashlee started for the door but stopped as soon as this guy glared at them. “Don’t leave on my account,” he said. He oozed next to Charity who remained like a statue. She revealed nothing. Not the giddy flirt she’d been with Wren. Not the concerned friend she’d been with me for a moment. Her arms crossed in front of her body, she simply gave him a side look. “Please, continue your discussion.”
He hadn’t answered my question and he had everyone obviously afraid of him, and I hated bullies.
“We were actually leaving,” I said.
I felt the collective relief of the group. “But if you and your secret name wants to join theatre, you should go see Mrs. Comiskey.”
I pushed off the desk. The others followed my lead, scrambling to get the fuck out. Except Dasher, who remained at my side. But this fucker wasn’t having it. He clamped a warm hand on my arm, stopping me dead in my tracks.
“You’re upset,” he said, a slight cock to his head. I hadn’t expected the question nor the touch. I also didn’t yank my arm away.
Everyone else scattered.
“Maybe,” I said.
“Why?” the guy asked.
“You ignored my question.”
“I didn’t want to tell you who I am. Yet.”
“Why?
“Why do you want to know?”
“Do you always answer a question with a question?”
His lip lifted in a smirk, revealing a dimple on his cheek. It gave him a more approachable expression. If it wasn’t for the madness he exuded, he would’ve been worth a flirty remark, at least.
“Luca,” he said. “My name is Luca Mancini.”