by Laney McMann
It was the downside of the two common houses being rivals, and at least most of the Kinship believing Kade was one of them—a Primeva, which meant she wasn’t allowed to date a Primori from the Brotherhood, i.e. Cole. There were strict rules about keeping the bloodlines of the Primori pure and not tainting them with traces of the Primeva’s devil’s blood.
Worse, as usual, she couldn’t stop staring at Cole during lunch every day, or whenever he passed her in the hallways, or when he intentionally rubbed his arm against hers as he walked too closely beside her on his way to his desk in American History every morning. Her new Algebra II class was just as bad because Cole sat directly behind her. She could hear him breathe, smell the sweet, clean scent of his clothes, and he was constantly leaning forward in his desk, whispering to her, or nonchalantly playing with her hair when no one was watching. Her grades in that class were likely to be all Ds and Fs because she simply couldn’t concentrate.
Except for the few minutes Cole spent with her in the evening in the bunker when he wasn’t investigating or doing homework—and when Giselle was always around—there only time together was running through the trees to train, so Kade could learn to control her speed through the woods and come to quick, steady stops. It was something he was adamant about after the Dracon attack.
“You are stronger than he ever was,” he’d told her. “And if you hadn’t lost your balance and had been able to control your speed, he wouldn’t have had a chance against you.”
Kade still wasn’t sure about that. Being in a position where she’d have had to come toe to toe with her own dad, in demon form especially, wasn’t something she thought she could have done. During the attack she’d been in an utter state of shock. And fighting her dad? The thought had never once crossed her mind.
Regardless, they ran every morning to get her car from her house, and every morning Kade came to a quick, steady stop, avoiding all the trees in the process. Cole had taken to setting up various obstacle courses in the woods for her to weave through to challenge her control and balance, always telling her she couldn’t afford to be clumsy in any way—no matter if it was snow or rain, or a sludge-covered mine—she had to control her feet. She’d gotten better at running through the obstacle courses, only tripping up here and there.
He’d also written a list of terms for her to study. The whole process had started to feel like a crash course Primordial school. Still, she read over the terminology like Cole asked and memorized everything. She glanced over at him as he drove them to school—it was the one reprieve Warden Caelius had allowed. Giselle might be on official “Kade watch” as her new roomie, but Cole had put his foot down when the Warden suggested Giselle also drive her to school every day.
“If a gurgulio’s, or a gargoyle’s, weakness is the throat, what is a Shadow’s weakness?” Kade stared down at her study paper. The long list of terms extended all the way down the page.
Daemoneum: Any manner of demon—from the Devil’s Children who inhabit the Infernal Plane, to the Nefarius (Black Guard) who are guardians of the Nocturnal Gates.
Mortal Plane: Earth
Primori: A pure-blood Primordial. Born of the ancient gods. A star child.
Primeva: A Primordial who holds the blood of the Devil’s Children (demon blood) in their veins; tainted blood, and is not allowed to intermingle with a Primori.
Leylines: The magnetic grid that surrounds earth and resembles a net or a web.
Leygates: Vortexes of high concentrations of energy that Primordial can travel through to other locations on earth and to other Planes.
The Ward: The Primordial government headquarters on the Mortal Plane in Rome.
The list went on.
“And why,” she asked before he could answer, “do you call the Shadows Nefarius?”
Cole smiled gently, as he turned into the dirt lot of Fairview High School. He’d been very sweet with Kade while she studied. “Shadow is just a simpler word for us to use. If we’re in a public place, the word shadow is likely to be overlooked if someone is listening, whereas Nefarius stands out.”
“That’s true,” she said.
Cole went on, “The Nefarius are the Black Guard who, as you know, can take the form of a shadow at will. But they can also take a human-like form, which is their strength and also their weakness. If a Nefarius can hold its shadowy form during a fight or under stress, they are much harder to kill. They can make themselves turn to vapor, basically—so there’s nothing to hold onto, nothing to aim for with a telum or with energy. But on the flip side, if they can’t hold that form for long enough, which you’ve witnessed, and their human form stays in place, we can kill them easily.”
“That makes sense.” Cole had killed Kyle, who they’d thought was a Primeva, but had been a Nefarius in disguise, and his form had done exactly what Cole described; flickered between human and shadow. “But you can still kill them in shadow form. I’ve done it.”
His smile grew. “Yes, we can. If our energy is powerful enough, like yours is, it’s enough to overload their system and electrocute them internally.”
“Right.” Kade had seen Cole do that, too. Kyle’s body had been charred black when he died. She put a small check mark next to the question she’d written down. Although she’d been fighting the Shadows all of her life, she’d never known the ins and outs of how or why until the past few weeks when she’d met Cole. The outside training they’d been doing—running through trees—might have been boring to her, but the terminology she found useful.
Cole pulled into a parking spot at school and yanked the parking brake of Kade’s small car, turning to face her. “That all?”
She nodded and slipped the piece of paper into the glove compartment. The possibility of it falling out of her backpack in the hallways between classes wasn’t something she wanted to risk. “Thanks for being patient with all my questions.”
“It’s important that you learn.” He smiled in a shy way and beckoned her closer with his finger. Laughing, she leaned into him with a kiss, as he slid the driver’s seat back. Their stolen car moments were the only real alone time they'd had besides running in the woods. Thank god for tinted windows.
Cole kissed her neck, the car windows of her MINI already starting to fog up. “Someone is going to see us,” she grinned, as more kids began to pull into the parking lot before school.
“It’s twenty degrees outside,” Cole said, tugging her onto his lap from the passenger’s seat, so her legs straddled his hips, “everyone’s windows are fogged up.” He guided her mouth to his and kissed her long, and deep, and slow. Kade’s body went pliable, and she melted into him.
After Dracon’s attack, when Kade had found Cole in the hot spring’s underground cave, she kept thinking about what he had told her. He’d said so many sweet things that day while he’d traced circles and figure eights on her temples, so thankful she was okay, and so remorseful that he had been the one who killed her dad. But she couldn’t get a few specific words he’d said out of her head:
“You are so hard to resist," he’d whispered against her mouth, pining her against the cave wall. "You have no idea." He heaved a breath and set her on her feet, placing a hand on either side of her head. "But given the circumstances, I think we should stop."
"But—"
"I'm not saying never, I'm not even saying not soon." He grinned that cocky smile.
Kade’s breath hitched against Cole’s mouth, and she pulled away, staring at him in the car.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes were glassy, dark, and slightly unfocused.
She shook her head as he kissed her again. “Nothing.” Breath racing, she climbed off his lap, really wanting to stay there, and back into her seat. “Remember when you told me you had to stop?” Her heart pounded, face hot. “Before?”
“I’ve said that a lot with you.” His head rolled lazily to the side against the car seat, as he gazed at her.
“Yeah.” She adjusted her shirt where it had twisted around her b
ody. “Well, I have to stop this time.”
His eyes widened, and he let out a quick, surprised breath. “We could leave,” his tone was gravely, uneven, his gaze smoldering.
She laughed and pulled her coat on, struggling in the small car. “Not sure the Warden would be cool with that. Don’t want to lose your driving me to school privileges.”
“Point.” He sat up and leaned across the middle console, drawing her mouth back to his. “Later?”
She kissed him until she was dizzy and breathless. “Definitely.”
“Go to class, little bird.” His gaze roved her face for a second before she turned away and got out of her car, shutting the door behind her.
Inhaling a deep, cleansing breath of freezing cold air, Kade stared at her booted feet as she walked across the dirt parking lot, forcing herself to keep going. The blood in her veins was still zinging, keeping her warm, and all she wanted to do in that moment was turn around and run back to her car.
Giselle waited in front of the stairwell for Kade like always, her brown hair in perfect, loose curls, highlighting her bright green eyes. The pink backpack Lindsey had bought her hung from her shoulder while she tried to brush the dirty snow off her new fuzzy boots.
“Hey,” Kade said, out of breath.
Giselle eyed her up and down. “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Besides your face being bright red, and your car not being so far away that you can’t catch your breath, you didn’t re-button your coat buttons in the right order.” She walked up the stairs, and Kade looked down at her coat. Yup. There was a big gap of material where she’d missed a button. Nice.
“I guess you and Cole are getting serious?” Giselle said under her breath as they entered the school hallway.
“I guess.” Kade redid her buttons and glanced up. Cole leaned against the wall next to the American History classroom, watching her. Probably ran at light speed to beat her there, as usual. His eyebrows lifted as she fastened the last button, his gray-blue eyes sparkling.
Giselle glanced between them. “Maybe I should start driving you to school.” She shook her head and went into History.
“So, we’ve barely talked lately,” Kade said, following her and sitting at her desk. “I mean, about important stuff. How’s everything going?”
Giselle shrugged, removing her notebook from her backpack and dropping it on her desk with a blue pen. “Fine.” She tapped her nails.
Cole walked into class, brushing against Kade’s shoulder as he took his seat.
“You don’t look fine,” Kade whispered.
“But I am fine.”
Okay … “Are you sure, G? I know moving into the bunker is a pain.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“I’m here, always, if you need to talk. About anything at all, remember?”
Giselle averted her eyes toward her desk. “I remember.”
Cole leaned forward and kicked Kade’s foot.
“What are you doing?” She grinned at him.
His cocky-Cole smile spread across his gorgeous mouth. “What are you arguing about?”
“We’re not arguing,” Giselle snapped. “Mind your business.”
“Sorry, damn.” Knitting his brows, he sat back in his desk with a scathing noise. Kade decided to follow his lead and fell silent when the History teacher, Mr. Robbins, entered the room.
Tracking out of American History the second the bell rang, Giselle hustled down the hallway, not bothering to say bye or tell Kade she’d meet her for lunch like always—or anything. She hadn’t meant to avoid her, or get in an argument, she just couldn’t stand to be around Kade and Cole lately, which made her feel like a total bitch. God knew they had more problems than she and Lindsey did in the grand scheme of things, but somehow the two of them just seemed to manage it all better.
Cole was in love with Kade—it was written all over his face—and it was clear by the way he looked at her constantly that the possibility of him being banished from the Ward, from all that he was and everything he’d ever known, was a risk he’d take with a cocky smirk on his face and a finger held high in the air. If the Ward pushed Cole against the wall in regard to his dating Kade, Giselle knew he would swing back with all the power in his arsenal.
She had known Cole since they were little. He pissed her off most of the time, got on her nerves just as much as her brother Danny did, but Cole always had her back, and she adored him. Even though she acted otherwise most of the time. He was like another brother to her. He was also one of the bravest people she knew, and half the time, growing up, she wished she’d had even half of his courage. Lately, she’d never wished that more.
Slowing her steps, she saw Lindsey leaning against her locker in the hallway, her long dark ponytail hanging down her back. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Giselle came to a halt beside her, entering her combination.
“How was your night?”
“Fine,” she mumbled, slamming the locker door open and shoving in a book. “How was yours?”
“It was fine.” Lindsey angled her head. “G?”
“See,” she said, annoyed, shutting the locker door, “this is what I mean. ‘How was your night?’ That’s just … we don’t even see each other now.”
“It’s been three nights, G, and you still eat dinner at the Kinship with us. It’s not like you’re completely gone. Warden Caelius said he wanted you at the Kinship a lot so as not to rouse suspicion that you moved out.”
Giselle’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not deaf, I know what he said.”
“It’ll get easier. It will.”
“I hate it.” She stared at Lindsey. “I already hate living there.”
“Is it Kade? Bad roommate or …”
“Is it Kade?” She stared. “Really? Hell, no, it’s not Kade. Kade has enough crap to worry about. I’m not adding my issues onto her long list. You know exactly what it is,” she hissed.
“If you really mean that, then I think we should say something. I want to say something.” Lindsey held her hard stare with golden eyes.
A shiver rolled down Giselle’s spine. Lindsey was simply, calmly focused on her. Not that she didn’t focus on her all the time, she just usually got impatient if they didn’t agree on something. She had never focused on her the way she was now while at school. It was unnerving.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Lindsey asked.
“I’m trying to figure out why you’re so calm lately.”
“Why I’m calm? You’re the fidget queen. You’ve been an anxious wreck about moving into the bunker, and you want to know why I’m being calm? One of us has to even the other one out.” She was still staring, paying no attention to anyone else in the halls walking by on their way to class.
It made Giselle even more anxious.
“I’m being calm now,” Lindsey said, dark eyebrows raised, “and lately, because I almost got crushed a couple of weeks ago when that mine collapsed on me. I see things differently than I did before. The thought of coming out doesn’t make me uncomfortable anymore. I had a taste of what it would be like without you when I lay unconscious after the accident. I didn’t like it.”
Giselle let out a breath.
“I want to be with you, and I want everyone to know it.” She tilted her head, her long dark hair resting on her shoulder.
Swallowing hard, Giselle looked at her feet, fiddling with the strap of her backpack. At least a couple people were looking at them now, she knew. She could feel it.
“It does make me uncomfortable, though,” Lindsey went on in a hushed tone, “that I can’t act like I like you at school—or anywhere, really. You’re my girlfriend.”
“Lindsey … what are people going to say?” Giselle whispered, glancing up.
“Why does it matter? Or why do you even care? No one here has anything to do with you or your life. Or with us.” She gestured toward the other students walking by. “Who care
s what they think?”
“Shh. Stop. It’s not them, really,” Giselle whispered. “It’s the Kinship, the Brotherhood, the Ward. We don’t know if this is allowed.”
“Okay,” Lindsey stood up straight, taller than Giselle. “We keep going back and forth on this, so let me ask you … what if it isn’t okay with them? What if we aren’t allowed to date—let me just say that would be complete crap—but what if we aren’t? What if people have a problem with it?” Her dark eyebrow cocked up again. “Then what?”
“I don’t know.”
Lindsey let out a deep breath. “You don’t know.” She rubbed her face with both hands and smiled, an incredulous smile. “You don’t know.”
Giselle shook her head. “No.”
“Well, tell you what … when you do know,” she pushed away from the lockers, “you let me know.” She turned away.
“Wait—“
Lindsey looked back. “Listen, I get it. This is scary. I get it, but I’m not living my life like this—being afraid of what other people think. This is who I am.” She threw her arms wide. “The Ward can take it or leave it. They know I’m damn good at what I do, we all are, and I’m tired of hiding from them—from everyone.” She exhaled hard. “I have to go. I came to tell you good morning and to let you know I have a meeting with Warden Caelius, not to get in an argument with you. I’m checking out early.” She walked away, down the hall, and disappeared into the stairwell.
Giselle dropped her chin. Being the black sheep—the only Primeva in a family full of Primori was bad enough—she was already an outcast. Danny was the pride of their parents. The Primori Beta of the Brotherhood. Best friends with the practically legendary Cole Spires. Giselle had dealt with it, living away from her twin when they moved to Boulder, trying to make new friends at the Kinship when she’d been little, all of it, as best as she could, but also being gay—and clearly a coward when it came to her relationship with Lindsey . . . sometimes it felt like she was cursed. Lately, it felt like the world she’d carefully, protectively crafted for herself and Lindsey was crumbling at her feet.
