Chapter 4
Arooster crows. It’s a foreign sound, but one I know well because my friend Mel imitated it often. I’m not sure where he heard the bird’s early morning decree before. I turn toward the wall, keeping my eyes shut tight.
The floorboard creaks before a shot of ice-cold water hits the back of my head. I shoot up. By the light of a match, Bastian’s head floats in the darkness, pure joy etched in his smirk.
“Get out of bed. We’ve got to get an hour’s worth of work in before the others join us.” He tugs the quilt from me and tosses it onto the other mattress.
I groan. In Avren, no one wakes before the sun is in the sky. And I thought I was going to have a private lesson with Bastian. It is bad enough looking like a weakling in front of him. “The others?”
“The morning is the best time to train others in the village.” He hands me a bow as I stand up. It’s difficult to see in the dark, but the smooth wood feels comfortable in my hand. “Most of the Supes sleep until twilight, although a few enjoy the long shadows of the afternoon.”
“And what do you expect to train me to do with this?” I hold up the bow, accidentally whacking him in the shoulder.
“Watch what you’re doing!” He steps closer, the sound of his breathing less than a foot away. “You need to protect yourself, so you don’t put others out with your complete and utter uselessness,” he hisses, clearly annoyed I clocked him a good one on the cheek. “We’ve got better things to do than babysit you for Grayson.”
I’m sure he does—like a couple hundred reps lifting a rock over his head to continue to build up his arm and chest muscles.
I pull on a boot, wanting nothing more than to lie back down and forget this entire nightmare is happening. Citizens of Avren don’t fight. We dance, paint, bake, sing, and read, but the Council has strictly forbidden physical altercations.
Bastian stands near the door from the sound of his breathing and occasional sighs. This is as painful for him as it is for me.
“What’s it to you if I die?” I pull on my second boot, wanting nothing more than to lie back down and wait for the sun to rise. “You’ve made it clear since I arrived yesterday that you don’t want me here.”
The door creaks open. “I’ll meet you outside.” And then he’s gone.
I mutter several curse words, unable to put up with Bastian’s crankiness while dealing with my own issues. I’m an orphan in a strange world where, apparently, supernatural creatures want me dead. If I don’t learn to fight, I’ll die just like Tanner. The image still makes my blood run cold.
Outside, a flower garden filled with a vast array of colors takes my breath away. The rich perfume of the blooms fills my nose, more aromatic than any of the scents sold in Avren’s shops. Bastian sharpens a blade on a rock, his back turned to me. He wears a black, tight-fitting shirt with enough give for his large shoulders. Unlike the night before, he has his hair tied back. Sparks fly as he runs the edge of the metal over the hard surface. He’s a warrior ready to take down an army of supernatural creatures.
I watch for as long as I dare before clearing my throat. Grayson coaxed him into training me, but Bastian’s made it clear that he doesn’t care if I live or die. I’m a Citizen—as much an enemy to the Undesirables as the Supernatural beings. “Are we going to do this thing?”
He shoots me a sideways glance, sheaths his knife, and picks up a quiver resting against a tree. He starts on a trail into the forest, making me wonder how much I can really trust this guy. If he kills me in a remote place, he can always blame it on a vampire or a werewolf.
I take a step into the forest. What else do I have to lose? My whole life is gone, and I’m a stranger in a place I never knew existed.
He leads me, the gray of the morning lighting our way. There’s a peacefulness that I never knew existed hanging in the air. The artificial lamps and bright lights of the city will never reflect the calm of the dawn in the wilderness. Is this what my father left to find?
After crossing a wooden bridge over a stream, we stop in a meadow, where a deer and her fawn bound away. A mist rises from the tall grass, giving the field an ethereal appearance, as if we’re walking on a cloud.
I wring my hands, unsure of what to do with myself while he removes an arrow from the quiver. The idea of using a weapon and shooting the real thing are miles apart in my thought process.
“Let me see your bow.” He holds out his hand, folding and unfolding his fingers.
I comply. As much as it felt good in my hand at first, it has become heavy and cumbersome.
He lifts the bow, nocks an arrow, and draws back the tight string. My breath catches. Never in my life have I seen someone who fits the true definition of a warrior. The soldiers in Avren are attractive, but it’s all a show. Since the removal of the Undesirables, all those years ago, they’ve never seen combat.
Bastian makes them look like shriveling worms beneath his foot. I clasp my fingers behind my back to keep from reaching out and touching his arm.
With a twang, he releases the arrow, and it strikes a tree on the perimeter of the meadow. He removes another arrow, letting it fly into the bark right above his first one.
“Now you’re just showing off.”
He mutters something under his breath which sounds like a forbidden curse word. “It’s called survival. This is a kill-or-be-killed world. You’ll learn that soon enough.”
“Tanner had his neck ripped out by a werewolf.” My heart tears every time I go back to the scene. The Undesirables insist on keeping it fresh. “I didn’t know him well, but he was a boy who lost his parents like us. At least, I assume you did. That’s what Grayson told me.”
Bastian’s face is stone as he hands me the bow. “Your turn.”
I take the weapon and set my feet the way he did, holding the bow the same way. It feels awkward in my hand, even though I think it’s the correct position.
“Which hand do you favor?” He inspects my stance and then the position of the bow. “You look like an old woman with your hunched back and spaghetti arm.”
Great. He’s a warrior, and I’m an old woman.
“My left,” I say, tired and cranky. “Why not take the position as my bodyguard, and we can avoid all this uncomfortable show.” I throw the bow onto the ground.
“Because.” He bends over to pick it up, giving me a straight-on view of his perfect ass. “This is a favor to Grayson and his sudden save the orphans kick. If it were up to me, I’d let a dragon incinerate you.”
It’s a gut punch to hear such hatred from an Undesirable. If Caron ever felt this way, she hid it. The ones who worked in the city always addressed the lords and ladies with decorum, respecting our positions. Bastian’s open disdain obviously kept him from a coveted city job.
I take the bow from him, wanting nothing more than to throw it across the meadow. “What was your official position in Avren?” From what I see, he’s nothing but a muscle-headed bully.
He draws an arrow from the quiver and runs his fingers along the tip. “My father managed the farms in Rushia. Growing up, I learned to use the machinery and work the fields. Ninety percent of the produce grown goes to feed Citizens.”
“And now?” I take the arrow from him to fit the notched end on the string of the bow.
“I train the rebellion.” He watches as I lift my weapon, the arrow refusing to nock. “That and avoid the Work Patrol.” Reaching out, his hand skims mine as he lifts the bow. “You’re doing it all wrong.”
My skin crawls and tingles from his touch. Images of the sickness instantly take over my mind. Not all Undesirables carry it, but the plague doesn’t always manifest in carriers. I back against a tree before running to a nearby stream. Dropping to my knees, I scrub my hand in the water, hoping it hasn’t already taken hold.
“What are you doing?” He stands over me, his overbearing presence filling me with dread. “Gray said they brainwashed you, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”
I stand and glower at him, water dripping from my hands. “I’m not brainwashed. My mother died from the sickness because she touched our housekeeper.”
His eyes show a momentary look of compassion.
“Don’t touch me, phaloc.” I use the most derogatory term for Undesirable I know for emphasis. I’m here to survive, not make friends, at least not with people who want to turn me into a dragon roast.
“Duly noted.” He kicks at the dirt with his foot, no longer interested in any eye contact. “Let’s follow through with our obligations. Gray can check it off his list for today.”
I’m proud of sticking up for myself, but at what cost? Bastian hates me more than he did before, and I’m sure he’ll laugh over the entire incident with Everleigh later today. If I must live with them to survive, I need to learn to be civil in this new environment.
“Hold up the bow with your right hand.” His voice is gruffer, if that’s possible, making me want to crawl into a hole. “Hold your wrist straight.” He circles me, inspecting my stance before handing me the arrow. “Nock the end of the arrow on the string, holding it between your thumb and forefinger.”
I follow his directions, then pull back on the string as he had when he shot the tree.
“Don’t rush it, my lady.”
My skin crawls again, but this time it’s his words, not his touch, providing the discomfort. It’s a mockery of not having reached the age to receive the title. “Never call me that.”
He steps close to me, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on my neck. “Don’t call me a phaloc, and we’ve got a deal.” He moves back slightly, the whisper of him still dancing across my skin. “You’re one of us now. Either that, or you’re dead. I suggest you stop acting like you wipe your ass with satin.”
“And what?” I spin around to face him, still holding the bow and arrow in my hands. “Act like the class system doesn’t matter? Act like your uncouth lifestyle didn’t cause my mother’s death? Because it did.” Feeling the weight of the last week crashing down on me, I let the arrow fly over his shoulder, aiming it nowhere in particular.
The wayward projectile hits a target in the shadows.
I’m overcome with dizziness when I realize it’s a person. He drops to one knee and yanks the shaft from his chest, tossing it to the side.
“Vampire,” Bastian hisses. “That was an iron tip, not silver.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
He doesn’t have time to answer. The monster is suddenly three feet in front of us, baring his fangs. He’s paler than any of the people in the city, though shockingly beautiful. His golden-brown hair catches on a wayward breeze as he holds his nose in the air.
“What have you brought us, Bastian Hale?” The creature circles me, bending his face close to my neck. The feeling is the complete opposite of the tickle of Bastian’s breath.
I’m paralyzed with fear.
“Fresh blood before the morning rays?” He lifts my arm, inspecting my wrist with his blood-red eyes. “I always took you for the intelligent one.”
Bastian’s body is tense, his hand moving to the flap of his coat. “Touch her and die.”
The creature laughs, his fingernail running along my neck as I stiffen. Never in my life did I think I’d meet my demise at the hands of a mythical creature. If the stories are true, the vampire is too fast and strong for us to escape. He’ll drain every drop of our blood before the first sun rays touch the tops of the trees.
“Do you have a fondness for this one, Bastian?” The vampire continues to circle me, raking his eyes from my head down to my toes. “The ones with auburn hair always got me when I had a heart that cared.”
“Honestly, I couldn’t care less if she lives or dies.” Bastian’s hand grasps something beneath his coat, but his attention is on the beast. “But having you kill my trainees is not a precedent I want to establish.” Swiftly, a flash of silver is in his hand before it hurdles through the air, burying itself in the vampire’s chest.
Veins of deep blue etch the creature’s face as he clutches his throat. Like a crumbling statue, his face cracks apart and his entire body collapses to the ground into a pile of dust.
“As I was saying.” Bastian crouches and removes his dagger from the pile, wiping it clean of vampire ash on his pant leg. Several strands have tugged loose from the tie holding back his hair, but other than that, he appears unaffected. “You need to be ready for anything. We watch out for each other, but you never know when they’ll catch you alone.”
My fingers are numb on the handle of the bow as it shakes in my hand. Without my trainer, I’d be dead. After watching Grayson and Bastian take down supernatural beasts, I’ve change my viewpoint on my upbringing. Teachers in Avren filled my days with what I now call soft skills—etiquette, philosophy, and, in my case, how to craft a killer ballgown. Nothing prepared Citizens for werewolves and vampires.
He sighs as a tear rolls down my cheek. “You’re weak. Your mother died. And yes, you witnessed a werewolf attack.” The toe of his boot kicks at the pile of ash. “But this was nothing. I had it all under control.” He removes a dirty rag from his sack and hands it to me. “Wipe your tears. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
I throw it back at him, wearing my tear-stained cheeks like a badge of courage for what I’m about to say. “Maybe I’m weak, but I’m compassionate, which I can’t say about you. From the moment Gray brought me home, you and Everleigh have been nothing but horrid. Here in the wilderness, you learn to survive. In Avren, we learn to love.”
Bastian’s eyes flash, his fingers trailing along a silver chain around his neck. He stares into a far-off place before responding. “Ejecting orphans and the deaf, like Levi, is not love. It’s building a society of people who think, act, and look just like you. The depths of my love have run through this land without ceasing—a raging river reaching to the inner workings of my soul. You know nothing about me or my people, so stop spouting your self-righteous crap.” He glares at the bow. “We’re done with our lesson today.”
“You call that a lesson?” I raise the weapon, determined to glean a bit of his knowledge. I don’t let his rant affect me, knowing he’s wrong and I’m right. “A warrior like you giving up so easily on a lost cause like me?”
He grumbles more obscenities under his breath, stooping to pick up his sack. “I’m not giving up. Others are waiting for me in the Grove. Are you coming?”
I need to jog to keep up with his long strides as he marches through the forest, unhindered by the threat of Supes with daylight streaming through the trees. My senses absorb the faint whisper of smoke that lingers in the air, hanging in the canopy like floating gossamer. Birds call out to each other with unfamiliar songs. They swoop from tree to tree above us, alighting on branches, their keen eyes following our path. Tiny land creatures, no bigger than birds, scurry across the forest floor to climb the nearest tree. The fascination with the world around me alongside my shredded emotions from my time with Bastian have my head spinning.
Bastian seems unaffected by the wondrous sights around us, more intent on reaching our destination.
I remain quiet, more annoyed by my companion’s heavy boots than anything else he said to me today. To sit on the forest floor and let my senses absorb this forested world would be heaven. But according to Bastian, there isn’t time.
The smoke thickens as we approach the Grove—a circle of grass with four or five cottages surrounding it. Each home has a chimney with thick, gray smoke rising to the upper reaches of the trees. A group of people assemble outside a cottage, each decked out in fighting gear and holding a weapon.
“Bastian.” A woman with long blonde hair braided down her back approaches, carrying a bow like mine. A wide smile is on her lips until she flicks her gaze at me. “Who’s this?”
“Someone Gray dragged in last night.” He doesn’t look at me as his face holds a bored expression. “Another orphan to train. Susan, this is Mari.” He continues to the cottage where the others wait.
I hold out my hand in the customary Avren greeting, but she only stares at me, then turns to Bastian. “I thought you were the Kindred Few. If Gray keeps bringing in spoiled brats, he’ll ruin your reputation.”
Bastian says nothing in response as he greets the other three trainees lounging on barrels by the wall of the cottage. “Where’s Lyden?”
“Didn’t show up this morning,” one guy responds, standing as Susan and I approach. “I think he heard he had to face me again.” He has curly dark hair and a crooked grin, but unlike his female counterpart, he holds his hand out to me. “I’m Rafael, but you can call me Rafe or whatever the hell you want.”
I shake his hand as my skin prickles with embarrassment. The laws forbid flirting in Avren. The Council matches you once you turn eighteen. My hope had been for Flynn. We’d known each other since I was six. We went through school together and, as teenagers, mastered the art of eye contact when the teacher wasn’t looking. Flynn liked to take the seat next to me in class, using every opportunity to brush his skin against mine if I dropped my pencil and he picked it up—which he always did.
He was my first and only forbidden kiss.
But the Council will match him soon. My heart aches for how much I have lost.
“Maribel,” I say, taking Rafe’s hand. “But you can call me Mari, and that’s it.”
“Touché,” he responds, holding onto to my fingers for a few seconds longer than I deem comfortable. “I’m never opposed to another pretty face. No offense, Commander Hale, but you and Elrod just aren’t my type.”
Commander Hale? Is he referring to Bastian?
“Imagine that threesome.” Another guy hops from the barrels and holds his hand out to me to shake. “I’m Mav, Lyden’s twin brother.” He turns to Bastian. “And no, I haven’t seen him this morning.” He’s joined by another woman with short brown hair.
Unlike Susan, she gives me a wide smile as she wraps an arm around Mav’s waist. She has a long sword strapped to the belt around her midsection. “I’m Laurel. We’re glad you’re here.”
Bastian, or rather, Commander Hale, stands before us, a thin, grim line creasing his lips. “Our endeavors are more important than ever. Not only do we prepare for battle against the army and Citizens of Avren, but the Supes are also becoming more aggressive.”
“What do you mean?” I wring my hands, not believing what he said. “I thought you were training me to protect myself.”
“I am.” He removes a dagger from his jacket, holds it in his hand, and flings it at a nearby target, hitting a tree. “I’m training you to protect yourself against the soldiers in Avren’s army.”
While Avren’s soldiers haven’t faced combat, they greatly outnumber us. It’s a suicide mission.
“What happened with the Supes?” Rafe leans against a barrel, his fingers dancing over the handle of a machete strapped to his waist.
“A werewolf attacked one of Gray’s targets last night, and this morning, a vamp risked daylight to attack Mari.” His eyes meet mine for the first time since we stood in the meadow, the crystal blue sending a chill down my spine. “Let’s get to work.”