“On humans, they could live a human lifespan, depending on how frequently they feed. On shifters, around one hundred to one hundred and fifty years. But it’s much more difficult for them to capture shifters.”
“How old are you?”
“I am only twenty-six,” he says. “Cassia will explain more tomorrow, but for now, you should rest.” He steps to the door.
My mind reels. Before a week ago, I’d never traveled past the tree line around my village, and now we’re trekking all the way into the mountains.
“Milena,” Elias calls from the door. I turn and stare at him.
“Some of us aren’t meant to belong.”
He closes the door behind him and leaves me alone, all the warmth in the room escaping with him.
Chapter Eight
The following day passes in a blur of funerals and strangers bringing food to my room. From my window, the courtyard is visible. Crowds gather wearing dark clothes, taking turns paying their respects to the weeping families who huddle together at the foot of the well, which is surrounded by flowers.
Watching firsthand the destruction my presence has caused makes me sick to my stomach. And though it’s like a form of torture, I can’t look away. Each new family that passes by the well serves as another hit, another family I’ve hurt by being here. It makes me think of my own. Of Charles and Flo, of Darius, and of the parents I never got to know. Grief for a life that was never mine suffocates me.
Cassia comes by my room sometime in the afternoon, after the last funeral finishes. She wasn’t visible in the mass of people, but it’s clear from her expression where she’s been.
“Good afternoon,” she says. “Good to see you’ve eaten.”
The sun is descending. By this time, we’d already be locking ourselves in the tunnels, ready to sleep. But I’ve never felt more awake. Behind me, Cassia rifles through the backpack of clothes discarded at the end of the bed.
“Ugh,” she grumbles. “Eric could’ve at least tried to pick something a little less drab.” She holds up a long-sleeved navy shirt. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected more from someone who exclusively wears one type of shirt. He owns, like, fifteen versions of the same thing.”
“It’s just a shirt.”
“Hollowers didn’t teach you much about clothes, did they?”
I gesture to the plain shirt I’m wearing. “I guess not.”
“You know, of all the things I’ve heard about your childhood, that is definitely the saddest.”
I laugh. “How come you didn’t get the clothes instead?”
“I’m second in command. It only makes sense that Eric gets the crappy jobs.”
“You’re ranked above Eric?”
“We don’t really call it that, but yeah. Surprised?”
“No. I just—”
“Don’t forget, I saved you from at least thirty hollowers.”
“It isn’t that, I was just surprised because Eric seems so . . .”
“Domineering? Bossy? Arrogant?” Cassia jokes.
“I was going to say disrespectful toward you, but those fit too.”
“The whole ranking thing doesn’t mean he has to obey me or anything, it just means that if something happened to Elias, I’d be in charge.” She continues to pull clothes from the bag, making snide remarks about a couple of items before gathering her chosen pieces in her arms. “Here, go put these on.”
I head to the bathroom. “We’re leaving soon? Because it’s safer to travel at night?”
“Exactly,” she grins. “Now go, get changed and I’ll fill you in on the details before we meet Elias downstairs.”
In the bathroom, I change into the clothes: tight, black pants; a fitted long-sleeved shirt; and a gigantic coat with a fur hood.
They’re different from the clothes I’ve been borrowing from Cassia. These items hug every inch of my body from my neck to my ankles. Without the coat, I feel completely exposed.
Cassia knocks on the door. “Coming in!” She leans against the frame, assessing me. “Eric did well. The shirt could be a little tighter, though.”
If it was any tighter, it’d be like a second skin. I tug at the neckline and stare at myself in the mirror. My skin doesn’t look as dull as it did the other day but the dark circles beneath my eyes haven’t disappeared. “It’s very . . . fitted.”
“Good. You can’t keep running around in my clothes, or those baggy rags you brought with you—you’ll be tripping all over the place.” I never minded the clothes I grew up in. They weren’t formfitting, and not at all flattering, but they were comfortable.
But she has a point; it’d be a lie to say I hadn’t tripped over the ends countless times. “Sit down,” Cassia says, picking up a pair of scissors from the drawer. “Let me do your hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” It’s the longest it’s been since I can remember, thick tresses reaching my midback.
“Nothing is wrong with it, it’s just so long. Doesn’t it annoy you?”
Memories surge through my mind—Charles hacking my hair with a pair of blunt cutters. He didn’t like it getting past my shoulders. The first time he did it, I cried as the black locks fell to the ground, but it became a mindless routine after that. “No.”
“Okay, no cutting. At least tie it back.” I take the band she offers me. “It’d be a lot easier if you let me just cut it off, you know.”
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, remembering the loss of control I felt each time my hair got cut back. It’s stupid, I know, to think so highly of something so superficial. But I’m keeping my hair because I want to. And having that control feels better than I could’ve imagined.
~
When I imagined how my life would be after I turned twenty, I saw freedom and acceptance. I imagined returning from a hunt and joining Charles at the main table, laughing with the other hunters, finally belonging somewhere. Twenty was the age that everything was supposed to change, and to pass that milestone feeling more alone than I did before is crushing. If it wasn’t for the shifters waiting for me downstairs, giving in to the despair would be all too tempting.
Cassia and I meet Eric and Elias in the foyer; they are talking in hushed voices, both with large bags on their backs. Their conversation cuts off when we emerge, and they both look up at us.
“You’re running late,” Eric says.
Cassia flips her hair back. “It takes time to look this good, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“It takes time to get to the mountains too.”
“How are you only twenty-five? You act like such an old man.”
Eric huffs and opens his mouth to retort. “So,” I blurt, looking at Elias, “when are we leaving?” He’s clothed in all black, dark hair a disheveled mess. The pinched skin of the scar on his jaw stands out against the black coat.
“Now,” he says. “Cassia and Eric, you go on ahead. We’ll be right behind you.”
Cassia casts a curious glance my way before shrugging and starting through the door, smirking at Eric on her way past. He begrudgingly follows, leaving me with Elias. “I wanted to talk to you, without snide remarks from the others.” He gestures to the doorway. “After you.”
I head through, stars glimmering above us as we ditch the village and aim straight for the forest. Cassia and Eric are swallowed by the night. The wind whistles through the trees; I hug my coat around me as Elias falls into step with me.
“Did the villagers ever speak of the sacrifice? Even in passing?”
I shake my head, hiking the backpack higher onto my back.
“I don’t think so.”
The trees crowd around us, creating a canopy that blocks out all light from the moon. “And with Charles. Nothing was ever suspicious to you?”
His line of questioning makes me feel stupid—like I’m foolish for not having noticed that they were out to kill me the entire time. “Everybody else was allowed to hunt when they turned sixteen but Charles wouldn’t let me go until I turned twenty—n
ot that his intention was for me to hunt, anyway. I always thought he was trying to protect me.”
“Hollowers start to rapidly age around sixteen. It makes sense that’s the age they start hunting and training.”
“But why twenty? If we’re sure I’m not a wisper.”
“That’s what we’re going to figure out.”
My breath clouds in front of my face. Walking through the forest when it’s dark isn’t as menacing with Elias beside me.
There are no fears of strange monsters emerging in the night and grabbing at my ankles, not when the one who rules it walks a beat ahead of me.
“How far away are we?” I ask.
“We should arrive in the mountains by tomorrow night.”
I pause. “Are we going to walk during the day?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? With the hollowers?”
“You don’t need to be afraid, Milena.”
He travels with the grace of a wolf stalking its prey, and I’m a stumbling toddler in comparison. “You don’t say a lot.”
He looks at me, surprised as he lifts a low-hanging branch to let me past. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. I know nothing about you.”
Leaves crunch beneath my feet, filling the beat of silence between us. “You don’t need to know anything about me.”
“But it wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
He turns to look at me. “It might.”
“But if you—”
He spins so fast it startles me. The scar on his jawline catches my eye, skin jagged and pinched in contrast to the smoothness of his neck. “You don’t need to know about me any more than I need to know about you, Milena. All you need to know is that the hollowers are after you, and all I need to know is why.
Anything else is just useless filler.”
Useless filler.
His words sting. Despite his hardened exterior, there always seemed to be something gentler about him, an energy that drew me closer. But that desire shrinks back in fear. He’s like fire—enticing to the eye but dangerous if you get too close.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
His expression softens. “Don’t apologize.”
“Sorry—”
He closes his eyes for the briefest moment. He turns then, running a hand through his hair, before disappearing from sight. I blink, disorientated; the only sign of his presence is the buzz in the air. Cassia’s words linger in my mind: He doesn’t need to shift. He’s different. I’m not afraid of him but everything inside of me tells me that I should be.
In moments, Cassia and Eric show up, replacing Elias without a word. And we continue on, my feet aching and mind racing.
The moon rises higher as we wander deeper into the forest, and as I think of Elias’s words, fragments of my world slip beneath my feet. Some of us aren’t meant to belong.
Charles never said the words, but his actions spoke volumes—I didn’t belong with them either. I can’t keep fooling myself.
Despite Cassia’s warm smile and Elias’s enchanting presence, I’m treading on thin ice. The only thing keeping me safe here is the mystery surrounding my attempted murder. Perhaps uncovering this mystery won’t be such a good thing for me after all.
~
The morning is as dark as it is cold. Though the sky transitions from black to navy with the arrival of day, the air is thick with a glacial fog. My breath clouds around me with each exhale. I sit on a log next to a pile of sticks as Eric constructs a fire, grumbling under his breath when it doesn’t light. Cassia hasn’t even put her coat on, and Elias, who joined us again, wears his coat unbuttoned and with the hood down.
“You all right, Milena?” Cassia asks. I pull my knees to my chest and nod, teeth chattering. Cassia looks at Elias. “She’s not going to survive the mountains if she’s shivering that much down here.”
Elias doesn’t look at me. He hasn’t looked at me since he returned, and it only makes me colder, like I’ve done something to warrant his indifference. He says something to Cassia and she reaches into the backpack discarded on the ground to pull out another sweater.
“Here, take your coat off and put this on.”
“I’m okay,” I say, mostly because the thought of taking the coat off is worse than sitting here shivering.
“Your lips are blue. Put it on,” she says. Reluctantly, I take the sweater from her hand and brave the cold. “How’s the fire coming along, Eric?”
“Would be coming along a lot faster if you actually helped.”
“Charming as always.” Moments later, the fire flickers to life, burning through the thick fog. It’s small, but the change in temperature is drastic. “Are you hungry?” Cassia asks, offering a sandwich.
“Thanks.”
“Dammit!” Eric kicks the tree beside him when the fire dies out in a sudden gust of wind. “The wood is too wet, it won’t catch.”
“A grown man having a hissy fit,” Cassia says under her breath.
“Amusing.”
“You try to light it then, I give up! I don’t need this damn fire anyway.”
“Cassia, there’s a stream half a mile west of here,” Elias says, moving to the fire. “Can you get some water? Milena, you too.”
“Milena’s seconds away from becoming a human ice block. I doubt going to the stream will make that any better.”
“Cassia.”
“Fine. Fine.” She reaches over to scoop up one of the backpacks. “Come on, Milena, let’s leave Elias to deal with this grown child.”
Eric glowers in her direction. “Cassia, I swear to—”
“Just go, Cassia,” Elias says.
She hooks her arm through mine and pulls me up with a satisfied smile. “Men. So easily agitated.” The trees are clearer in the morning light so I don’t have to focus so intently on where I place my feet. I shove my hands into my pockets and wrap the coat tighter, knees knocking together.
“How far are we from the mountains?” I ask.
“We’ve nearly reached the base. It’s only going to get colder from here, and we need to be more careful since it’s daytime.”
I glance over my shoulder. “You think the hollowers could be there?”
“They don’t know about anyone residing up in the mountains.
But that doesn’t mean they won’t be lurking around down at the tree line.”
“But it’s so far away.”
“From your village, maybe.” The trees thin out and somewhere close by, water gushes. “But they’re not the only village of hollowers, just like we aren’t the only village of shifters.”
“There are more of them?”
“Scattered all over the place. We’ve only ever had problems with your colony because they’re closest to us. Here”—she tosses me a bottle—“fill this up, will you?”
She disappears ahead. The wind picks up, whispering warnings through the trees. I shudder. As Elias said, the stream is there, a steady flow of water weaving in and out of the trees.
Cassia bends over, dips her bottle in the water. The last thing I feel like doing is getting near the icy water but I follow her lead. It takes us a few minutes to get back to the others, but the fire has been lit—ruby embers crackling beneath the blackened wood.
“Impressive,” Cassia says.
Moving closer to the fire, I pull my hands from my pockets and hold them in front of the flames, staring at Elias. The flames dance around him, turning the tips of his hair copper. I shuffle closer, but this time, it isn’t the fire that lures me. It takes only a second for his entire demeanor to change.
“Did you hear that?” Cassia says. Elias holds a hand up to hush her. We stand in tense silence, Cassia’s hand wrapping tightly around my wrist. Eric stamps the fire out then squeezes a water bottle over the embers.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
They exchange glances, then Elias looks at me. “We’re not alone.”
Sweat beads
at the back of my neck and my heart thumps.
Cassia gathers the bottles in her backpack and Elias and Eric speak in hushed whispers. They all look at me.
“Climb the tree,” Elias says. “We don’t have enough time to run, they could be tracking us. Here, I’ll give you a lift.”
He places his hands on my waist and hoists me up like I weigh nothing more than a feather. I wrap my arms around one of the branches, lifting myself up and perching in the crevice where it meets the trunk. The branches obscure my vision but Cassia clambers up the trunk behind me to perch next to me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I force myself to sit still, disorientated by the height.
The sun makes an appearance, piercing through the canopy of leaves and warming the back of my neck. “Why are we hiding?”
I whisper. “Can’t you take them on yourselves?”
“We could, but contrary to what you’ve been told, we don’t like to kill others.” I open my mouth to respond but she raises a finger to her lips. There’s shuffling below. Voices.
“You sure it was over this way, Henry? I could’ve sworn it came from the north.” They appear between the gaps in the leaves. There are two of them, clothed in thick coats and carrying matching machetes. My chest tightens. I don’t recognize either of them, but their weapons are all too familiar.
“Reports from the west say they left the creatures’ grounds,”
Henry says. He bends to the ground, placing his machete beside him and rubbing his fingers in the dirt. He looks at his companion and smiles. “The remains of a fire.”
“Can’t be the creatures then, they wouldn’t be so stupid. They don’t need it to stay warm.”
But Henry’s smile doesn’t waver. He picks up his machete.
“The creatures don’t. She’s with them. She must be, and if we want to get that deal, we’ve got to be the first to find her.”
Cassia and I exchange alarmed looks. She shifts her weight, the backpack brushing against the trunk of the tree. And then, before either of us can stop it, her foot slips on the branch. I grab her arm to steady her, and we both breathe sighs of relief. But it isn’t over. Her backpack topples over and a bottle slides out, spiraling to the ground and landing with a thud between the hollowers. They freeze. And look up.
Creatures of the Night Page 8
