by Maya Daniels
“This matters to me why?” Dodging people left and right, I tangle my fingers in the fabric of my pants so I don’t wrap them around his neck. “I’m not here to make friends. Go away!”
“Listen.” Keeping his voice conversational as if I haven’t spoken, he glances quickly around us to see if anyone is paying attention before moving slightly closer to me. “Guards, and those like me, hear lots of things…” his voice trails off when we pass a couple of demons, their red eyes zeroed in on me burning with hatred. I grin widely at them, loving the glares I receive in return. “Things you might want to know in case someone, let's say, tries to set a trap for you.”
The wolf gets all my attention, my shoulders stiffening at the warning in his words. My feet slow down, and my head swivels to look at him. Like he hasn’t said a word, he looks ahead, walking unassumingly by my side. Nothing to see here, folks. He just threatened a half blood.
“You need to work on your threats, pup.” I surprise myself with the malice in my softly spoken words. “Bigger and badder things have tried to kill me, yet here I am, dealing with a fleabag like yourself.”
“You misunderstood me, Francesca.” I can tell I pissed him off, but I must give him credit for not snarling like I can tell he really wants to. “It wasn’t a threat; it was a warning.”
“What? We are friends now, and you give a shit what happens to me?” Chuckling humorlessly, I resume walking, leaving him lagging for a few moments.
“You are the one acting like a pup.” He catches up quickly. “Reacting on instinct and lashing out when you are cornered.” I can see him shaking his head as if disappointed. “I expected more from you.”
“You don’t even know me.” Cringing at the defensiveness in my tone, I bump into the person walking by me, causing her to take a step back as she stumbles out of the way. “Sorry…” murmuring under my breath, I tighten my elbows even closer, almost causing pain in my back.
“True,” my new buddy chirps from next to me. “But I do hear things, as I said. I’ve heard a lot about Agent Drake from those in Sienna. What I see now…” his voice trails off, and he gets the reaction he was hoping for.
I give him an expectant look, and that stupid smile makes an appearance again. “Well?” Growling the question, I hate that I ask but am completely unable to stop myself.
“I see a wounded pup.” Going back to the analogy I used on him, his smile grows at my scowl. “Unlike the fierce and formidable female that most of Sienna are wary off. You should be picking your allies and forming a plan. Instead, you are trying to bite the hands that are reaching out to help you. Not a smart move.” His head bobs up and down like he agrees with his own statement. “Not smart at all.”
We are passing one of the giant stairways leading to the second floor, and I use it to my advantage. Grabbing the shifter by the arm, I yank him under it, slamming his back on the wall as I get in his face, teeth bared in a snarl. His fingers wrap in a punishing grip over my upper arms, his nails digging in my skin.
“Listen to me, wolf.” Our faces are so close that if anyone sees us, they’ll think we are about to kiss with our noses almost touching. “I don’t need your help or any information you want to share. I’ll say this only once. Stay away from me if you want to keep breathing.”
His fingers tighten and the wolf comes closer to the surface, searching my face through his eyes. I can feel the sharp points of his claws poking holes in my shirt as he wrestles with his animal to keep it in check. If I want to call myself smart—even though most already know I’m not—I shouldn’t have done what I did. Aggressively manhandling a shifter is not what you do, not unless you want them to tear your throat out. He might have a point that I’m lashing out with no reason, but that’s beside the point. It’s how I deal with things out of my control.
“What are you afraid of, Francesca Drake?” His deep voice rumbles, vibrating through his chest into mine where we are pressed close together.
“I fear nothing, you fool.” Pushing off of him, I whirl around to leave, but he jerks me back, still holding onto my arms.
“That is not true.” Those yellow eyes are too knowing, causing my spine to stiffen. “You fear yourself.” The shifter’s head tilts to the side, sending a sharp ping through my chest. “Well, what do you know. You are a lot smarter than I gave you credit for.”
“Remove your hands.” Pushing the words through clenched teeth, I feel that telltale sign of calm loosening my muscles and slowing down my heart.
Whatever it is that the shifter sees in my face widens his eyes, and he drops his hands like I burnt him. His reaction snaps me out of the trancelike state that almost pulled me under, forcing me to suck in harsh breaths through my nose.
“Don’t touch me, wolf.” My throat feels rough when I speak, and I swallow in hopes to moisten the dryness. “Instead of wondering if I’m smart, you should think about your own actions.” Turning away, I stop right before coming out from under the stairway. “They can get you killed real fast.”
Leaving the shifter behind, I join the throng of people, blending in with the sea of bodies moving through the halls. His gaze follows me for a long time, the feeling of being watched raising the short hairs on the back of my neck. I’m not surprised when Astara joins me, falling seamlessly into step with me a minute later.
“Problem?” she asks casually, as if we’ve been having a conversation for a while.
“For his sake, I hope not.” The jackhammering of my heart that she can no doubt hear clearly calls me a liar. Wisely, Astara doesn’t mention that little fact. Neither do I.
“Listen,” she says reluctantly, and I turn to look at her when she pauses for too long. “I know we have our thing going on here…”
“You mean hanging out while pretending we don’t see that the other is around?” She snorts ungracefully at that, and I chuckle.
“Yeah, that thing,” she mumbles.
A guy I’ve never seen before blocks our path, and I stop along with her. With an athletic build and as tall as she is, his pale skin and phantom-less eyes tell me he is a vampire. A scar runs from his eyebrow and disappears in his chestnut hair, which pulls my eyebrows in a frown. Supernaturals don’t scar. What could possibly have left a mark on his face? I don’t get a chance to study him long or ask about it. Astara lifts her hand, fingers outstretched like claws, and wraps them over his face, the blood-red color of her long nails standing out against his skin. Not missing a beat, she moves him to the side, shoving his head none too gently the moment he is out of her way, then she continues walking as if nothing happened. I gape at his pissed off face before rushing to catch up with her.
“But I feel like I should say something about Leo,” Astara continues our conversation.
“Who?” Still giving the vampire glances over my shoulder while he stares daggers at our backs, I almost miss what she says next.
“The werewolf you were snuggling with.” Her long, graceful fingers flick in the direction of the tall, winding stairway.
“No, I mean who is Leo…” When what she said registers, I snatch her by the arm, yanking her to a stop. “Wait, what?”
“The shifter…” she says it very slowly like she’s talking to a simpleton, her eyes boring into mine as if she is trying to see if I’m all there.
“I wasn’t snuggling with him.” Glaring at her, I debate if I should punch her when she throws her head back and laughs in my face.
“It sure looked like you were, and someone didn’t get the memo before running off to tell my brother.” Her smile grows impossibly wide like the cat who ate the canary. “Oh look, Fenrir looks like someone spit in his coffee, too.” Giggling, she points over my shoulder.
With dread building in my stomach, I turn very slowly to see what she’s looking at. The number of people mulling the halls is significantly less now, and it’s easy to see Zoltan and Fenrir marching towards the wolf like some choreographed strategic attack, hoarding him from both sides. The shifter stands unfazed,
watching them getting near. He is much braver than I am. If I see those two with murderous looks on their faces like they have now, I’ll be bolting out of here so fast that only clouds of dust will be left in my wake. When the wolf turns to look at us over his shoulder, he smiles winks, and I decide right there that he is actually insane.
My feet move to stop the idiots from killing the poor guy, but Astara jerks me back by grabbing a fistful of my shirt. “Let them be.”
“They’ll kill him. Look at them.” When she lifts one perfect eyebrow at my comment, I shake my head. “If anyone is going to kill the asshole, it’ll be me. I don’t need bodyguards.”
“As I was saying”—Ignoring the bloodbath that’s about to happen, Astara sighs—“Leo is actually not a bad guy. Annoying, yes, but not a bad guy.”
“Are you preparing his eulogy? Cause he is about to die.”
“Don’t be silly.” Rolling her eyes, she huffs. “My brother or Fenrir wouldn’t have listened to what he has to say until it was too late. By getting you riled up enough to get physical, he got both their attention in a matter of minutes. Brilliant, if you ask me.”
“Oh dear fates, you put him up to it!” My mouth hangs open as I stare at her.
“I know.” Sniffing primly, she lifts her chin. “I’m too smart for my own good.”
“Or for his…” I cringe when Zoltan sends the shifter flying into the wall with a punch to his chest.
I’ve been avoiding him for so long, my heart is trying to punch a hole in my chest from seeing his handsome face again. Even angry, he takes my breath away, his body moving fluidly like the killing machine he was born to be. My lips part as I watch him pounce on the wolf, keeping him on the floor. Fenrir is not far behind, the Fae contrasting with his platinum hair next to Zoltan’s dark strands like some twisted yin and yang animation right before my eyes. I’m about to shove Astara away and go help the poor soul when the fists stop flying and I see the vampire leaning closer to Leo, as Astara called him. Zoltan’s head snaps in my direction, his blue gaze locking on mine as if he knows where I am the entire time.
I forget how to breathe.
It feels like an eternity until he looks away and, to my surprise, gets to his feet, lifting the shifter up in the process. I can see Leo’s lips moving while he wipes his bloody mouth with the back of his hand.
“Let’s go.” Astara tugs on my shirt.
“I don’t get it.” Reluctantly, I allow her to start dragging me away.
“I’m sure we will hear all about it later.” Chuckling, she bumps her shoulder on mine. “Males, huh. They settle everything with fists.”
“You actually just admitted setting it up. So this is on you, not on the males.”
“What can I say.” Grinning like crazy, she flicks her hair over one shoulder. “I’m a genius.”
“If mad scientists count, sure.” Shell-shocked, I stare at her back.
Shaking my head, I follow behind while her laughter turns the few heads still loitering our way.
3
My feet trail the path my friend is taking on their own. I can’t help but think about what just happened. Did the shifter really have information about someone setting up a trap for me? More importantly, is it that bad that he is willing to suffer Zoltan’s wrath just to tell someone what he knows? My skin pebbles at the thought, and even the follicles of my hair tingle in awareness of the anticipated danger.
Astara guides me by the arm, pushing me into a seat, and I blink away my thoughts as I turn my head around slowly, finally noticing our surroundings. Wiping sweaty palms on the fabric of my pants under the small desk that I’m now sitting at, I blow out a slow, deep breath. The room is full to bursting with people, their whispered words creating a cacophony of sound like a hum of a large generator vibrating the air from a distance. The scraping of chairs on the smooth floor provokes a few shouts and curses, while others laugh and giggle at the exchange.
All I can do is breathe to keep the pulse of the ancient monstrosity that Soren tied to me from rearing its ugly head up. The wolf is spot on, pointing out that I’m afraid of myself. What he doesn’t know is this: I’m scared of this thing inside me that feels too eager to jump up and play like a puppy with a new toy. No matter what I do, it’s always there in the background, lurking…waiting… I just don’t want to find out what it's waiting for.
Not yet.
The constant buzz of sound fades in the background when I notice one of the sections empty, the unoccupied chairs sticking out like a sore thumb in the otherwise-crowded space. I take a breath, turning towards Astara to ask about it, but the words die in my throat when all sound stops the moment the door to our far right opens, a group of around ten people walking in. The air around me charges with anticipation. The anger in it is like a bitter taste on the tip of my tongue. Even my friend stiffens next to me, giving off frustrated energy that batters my skin.
I track the newcomers with my gaze, noticing their fluid movement like they are gliding on the floor instead of walking, their heads held high with barely-contained aggression in every twitch of their muscles with each step they take. My skin tightens from the ancient magic inside me fighting to answer the call, to show them they are not the most dangerous thing in the room.
Grinding my teeth, I watch them cross the space, not sparing a glance to anyone present as they take up the empty chairs at the front of the room. One by one, they lower on their seats across the room from me, eyes trained in front of them as if none of us exist. Until one set of eyes flicks up and locks on mine. The soulless gaze forces the breath I am holding out of my lungs in a rush.
Vampires.
All of them are pure-blooded vampires, and I recognize the guy staring at me like he wants to read my soul. It’s the same one Astara moved out of her way earlier in the hallway. She must notice I’m about to start asking questions because her hand latches onto my leg under the desk, her nails painfully digging into my skin. I won’t be surprised if she makes holes in the fabric of my pants. Her reaction is enough to keep me quiet … for now. But I refuse to be the first one to look away from the jerk that thinks he will intimidate me by staring daggers from his safe place across the room. I hold his penetrating gaze, seeing a muscle jump in his jaw the longer I look back.
My lips twitch when his eyes narrow.
“Oh, good!” a deep, rumbling voice calls out, breaking the staring match I have going on with the pure blood. “All of you are here.”
I shoot a raised eyebrow at Astara when I see Azgor stride to the front of the room, dumping a pile of thick, leather-bound books on top of a desk I don’t notice until now. She gives me a strained smile, but it’s the wariness—or maybe even sadness—in her blue eyes that gives me pause.
Astara is always self-assured, just like her brother. There is this aura of authority around her you can’t ignore. Some may call it a charisma of naturally born leaders, but I know better. It’s the aura of a dangerous creature your brain perceives as a formidable threat, and your will to live forces you subconsciously to follow. You are either on their side or you are the prey. It’s not something the majority can control.
Unlike me.
It’s that uncertainty in her gaze that leaves me quietly searching her face for long moments. I see now that her bringing me here while I am distracted from everything happening in the hallway is not an accident. If it’s so important for my friend to resort to manipulation just to bring me here, instead of merely asking, I better pay close attention. As if reading my mind, her eyes flick to the group of vampires across from us before she reluctantly removes the hold she has on my thigh.
“If I say so myself, we’ve made quite a bit of progress in the last few weeks.” Azgor’s voice breaks the charged silence in the room. “As many of you know, we had some delays. What, with the attack on one of our portals, as well as having a new student arrive later than most of you.” He shuffles the books on the desk until he finds the one he is looking for. “I know many of you woul
d rather be in the physical and mental abilities classes, but all that is useless if you don’t understand why you are here.”
A chair moves, the legs scraping the floor like nails on a chalkboard, , and the sound makes me jump out of my skin. I don’t realize how focused I am on the ghoul until this very moment. My shoulders stiffen and I glance around, but thankfully no one notices me being startled enough to actually jump slightly off the chair. No one but Astara, that is, because she gives me a worried glance. A slight shake of my head gives her enough assurance to look away.
“As we already covered, after the Purge where many of our own died, the Accord was signed to keep the humans and the supernaturals apart. Many disagree with this.” Azgor grimaces as if he tastes something foul, then waves a hand dismissively at all of us. “I’ve heard it all: that we are not cowards, that we shouldn’t hide, along with so much more, and it’s not like I disagree…” he murmurs like he is having an argument with himself, and I frown at his strange behavior.
“What is going on…” Astara latches onto my thigh again at my whispered words, and I snap my mouth shut.
“At the time, we had wars of our own to contend with while every species thought they should be the ones in charge, that they should be liaisons between our world and the world of humans.” Azgor clasps his hands at the small of his back and paces up and down behind his desk, eyes training on his shoes like none of us exist. “Those were horrible days, and many great people died. Luckily the Fae—” Murmurs that sound like curses accompany his words, and my head swivels so I can see what’s going on.
“Quiet!” the ghoul booms, and you can hear a pin drop. “As I was saying, luckily, the Fae decided to share one of their most guarded secrets. It stopped the bloodshed, and it’s one of the reasons all of you are here today. They sacrificed a dragon blood, tying his life to this institution, and with that, they created the Daywalkers. The pure bloods, the liaisons between the humans and us. Power is a seductive mistress and requires a strong mind and heart to be kept in check. So that no one can abuse it, the Supernatural Agency of the Accord was created, and now everyone is held accountable for their actions.”
