by Eden Briar
We’re treading on dangerous ground, but the best lies stick close to the truth.
“Matthias had his hand around my neck and… I don’t know. I guess Zac just snapped? I don’t think it had much to do with me.”
Archer nods slowly, still perplexed. “The fact that you were there at all may present a complication. The vampires were already unhappy, given you broke their rules—”
He breaks off and lapses into silence, still regarding me like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite figure out.
“Is there anything else?” he asks. “Anything Matthias said or did?” His voice is so gentle, so entreating, that I have the sudden urge to tell him everything. Maybe Zac was wrong, maybe Archer has answers—
Jazz bursts into the kitchen, Ben on his heels.
“Indy, are you okay? What happened? Where were you?”
I push to my feet, turning to meet them. “I’m so sorry. I was pissed off, and I went for a walk to clear my head.” Behind Jazz, I see Ben wince at my words. “I had a run-in with some vampire proxies, and they led me into a trap.”
“Did they hurt you?” Jazz reaches for me, hesitating before taking me into his arms.
I want to be held. More than that, I need it. I’m still spooked and shaking, and Jazz is warm, solid, and immovable.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs in my ear. “You’re safe now.”
But I know it’s not true. Zac and Matthias made that very clear to me. One word stands between me and certain death. And I don’t even know what it means.
After a few more questions and an oddly gentle rebuke from Archer at my foolishness for wandering off with strangers, Jazz walks me back to my room so I can rest.
He leaves me at the bottom of the stairs, and I start the climb, pausing a few steps up, turning back to where he’s waiting.
“Will you come up with me? I don’t really feel like being alone right now.”
He nods and starts up after me, and he’s only a step behind me as I enter my room.
“Wow, nice place,” he says, stopping by the door as I make a beeline for the dresser. I’m still wearing borrowed clothes, the white satin shift rubbing against me. The thought makes my skin crawl, and I shudder, yanking some clothes out and making for the bathroom.
“I’m just going to jump in the shower and change. I won’t be long.”
“If you want some company…”
I glance back at him, and he holds up his hands. “Kidding, just kidding. I’ll sit right here and wait for you.”
I’m torn between rolling my eyes and laughing. Instead, I grab the hem of the overlarge sweater I’m wearing and tug it off, then kick off the pants, leaving me in just the white shift.
Jazz’s eyes are wide as he stares at me.
“Matthias has a sense of style, don’t you think?” I give a small twirl.
“White goes so well with blood red. He’s very traditional,” Jazz quips. He takes a step closer to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I’m not, I’m really not, but I don’t know how to explain it.
“Do you ever feel like your life’s spinning out of control and you don’t have the first idea how to stop it?”
Jazz considers the question for a moment. “Well, I get the ‘not having control over your life’ part of it. I think every half-blood knows what that feels like.”
“Why? What does that even mean?”
There’s a story there, and no one is telling it to me. It’s frustrating to be so aware that there’s something to know, to have everyone make cryptic comments, but no one comes right out and just says it.
“Look, it’s…why don’t you wash up and change, and I’ll explain it? I hate to admit it, but you’re incredibly distracting dressed like that.”
His hand just skims my shoulder, his touch feather-light but sending a bolt of heat through me.
I pull back, my head spinning. “Right. Shower first, answers later.”
“I’ll be right out here,” he promises.
Sure enough, when I step back out twenty minutes later, he’s stretched out on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
He lifts his head to look at me, hiding a yawn behind his hand.
“Sorry, up all day and all night. Even a half-shifter needs their beauty sleep.”
Awake all night looking for me. Just the thought sends a pang of regret through me.
“I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to—”
He waves off my apology. “You’re not a prisoner here. Sure, wandering around outside by yourself wasn’t the smartest idea, but we didn’t know the local vampires had tagged you as a person of interest. They’re not usually too bothered by the average clary, even if they are nosing around one of their casinos. You must be special.”
I tense at that. Being special is dangerous. Another s-word to be avoided.
“I’m not special. I wish I could go back to before, back to being normal.”
A slow grin crosses Jazz’s face. “Being normal is underrated.”
And truth be told, I’ve never been normal.
I climb up onto the bed and stretch out next to him, leaving a little distance between us.
“So, what’s the deep, dark secret of the half-blood world?” I ask him.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” He’s stalling. “It is deep and dark, and you’ve just been through hell at the hands of vampires—”
“Tell me. Please. I need to know.”
“Okay, here goes nothing.” He props his hands behind his head. “Half-bloods have always been contentious among the magic and master races. Diluting the bloodlines and all that. And I get it, you know? Because less than fifty percent of the blood type of one race or another, and you lose most magical ability. Some people, like your friend Lincoln, may manifest some passive, low-level abilities, but most are just boring old humans.”
“Then purity of blood is important?”
“Pretty much. Half-bloods were sort of the exception to the rule. We were never present in huge numbers, but we were seen as a way to bring the races together, to foster cooperation. That’s how the guild came about. It was meant to be a center of knowledge, pooling the best skills and resources of the half-bloods of all races.”
“But now it’s a refuge. Why?”
“Around about twenty years ago, something changed. The leaders of the vampires, the shifters, and the sorcerers ordered a cull of all half-bloods. There was no warning, no explanation. Most didn’t have time to run. Ben and I were some of the lucky ones. We lived in hiding for years, shunted from safe house to safe house, people risking their lives to keep us from harm. A few years later, the leaders quietly revoked the order to kill us. We moved into the guild house. They promised us safety. In return, they’d train us. We’ve lived here ever since.”
“How long did it last?” I ask him. “The Cull?”
“Five years.”
I’m slowly making connections to things people have said to me. And stuff that’s gone unsaid.
“Is that what happened to Archer’s daughter?”
Jazz nods. “Yeah. His wife was pregnant when the Cull started. They sent her home to her family to protect her. He never saw her again. I guess, in the end, nowhere was safe.” His eyes are distant as he speaks. “There weren’t many of us left once it was over. The kids I used to play with, my cousins…all gone.”
He closes his eyes and takes a breath, letting it out slowly. I reach for his hand, holding it in mine.
When his eyes open, he meets my gaze head-on, curiosity in his expression.
“You never did explain how you ended up where you did. You never knew your parents?”
It’s a dead-end, and I’m quick to make that clear. “All I know is, I was left on the side of the road when I was four. I knew my name, that’s it.”
“You wouldn’t have been the first half-blood child abandoned during the Cull in an attempt to keep them safe. You’re what, twenty-one now?”
I nod once, a sudden ache in my
chest when I realize what he’s trying to tell me.
“Timeline fits.”
Seventeen years later, and I might finally have an explanation for why I was abandoned. Maybe I wasn’t thrown away—unwanted, unloved. Maybe… maybe I was saved.
12
I get sleepy, and Jazz leaves me to rest. Despite our conversation, despite everything, it’s Zac I see. He comes to me clearly in the dream. We’re face to face, and I’m back in that damn white dress. I want to ask him what it all means, what I am. But he presses a finger to my lips, as if he knows what I’m about to say.
“Even dreams aren’t safe,” he whispers as a shadow looms over my shoulder. I turn to look and open my mouth to scream. Nothing comes out.
Matthias stands behind me, blood dripping from the stake through his heart, his eyes dark and soulless.
I jerk awake with a shout, my heart racing, my stomach heaving. My legs tangle in the blankets as I scramble out of bed, throwing me to my hands and knees on the floor. The cool air of the bedroom hits me, and I take a few deep breaths, calming down.
I’m still jittery over breakfast, and it’s almost a relief when Lynea tells me to come train with her.
“Are you up for this?” she asks as we stretch and warm up. “If you want a few more days…”
More time sitting around my room and contemplating the ceiling is not what I need right now.
“No. I want to train, I need to get better. If this has taught me anything, it’s that I need to know how to protect myself.”
She smiles at that. “An important lesson to learn. Come, let’s begin.”
Taking a step back, she takes a stance, and I do likewise.
“Concentrate,” she says. “Play to your strengths. Let go of distractions.”
I do exactly as she says, focusing on her eyes, seeing through them and letting my mind anticipate her moves, just like last time. Lynea throws a punch, and I dodge it easily. It’s followed by a kick, another punch, and an open-handed slap. Every move she makes, I’m a step ahead, out of the way of her hands and feet before they reach their target. She doubles down and speeds up, but it’s like I’m faster. I don’t just see her hits and kicks coming one on top of the other, I avoid them.
It’s not that it’s easy—I’m dodging and weaving, moving my body as hard and fast as I can to stay one step ahead of her. But it works.
We’re both breathing hard when she slows to a stop, staring at me curiously. We’re ten minutes in and she hasn’t landed a single hit.
A slow smile spreads across her face. “I knew I was going to like you.”
I stab my pasta viciously with a fork as I think about it over dinner.
As pleased as Lynea seems to be with my newfound agility, I can’t help but feel unsettled. This isn’t me. I move at a human pace, not whatever kind of supernatural speed that was this morning.
“Hey, what did that penne do to you?” Jazz asks.
“Nothing.” I avoid his eyes.
“What happened today is nothing to be worried about, Indigo,” Lynea says from across the table. “You were simply untrained. With guidance and practice, we sometimes see a rapid development of power. It’ll be a little tough at first, while your mind catches up with what your body can do. But it’ll soon seem like nothing special.”
The others nod in agreement, and I hear a few stories of half-bloods going through what Jazz dubs ‘magical puberty.’ But as nice as all the reassurance is, I worry that this is something different. And just like that, my thoughts return to Zac. It’s like I can’t get him off my mind. Every time there’s nothing urgent holding my attention, he’s right there.
It’s only later, when I return to my room, that I realize the two things might be related. I can’t get Zac off my mind or out of my head, and I’m suddenly supernaturally-fast. Except maybe it’s vampire-fast. I know I’m not a vampire—I wasn’t bitten, I’ve been out in the sun. But maybe Zac did something. Maybe he and I kissing caused this. Could vampirism be transmitted through saliva? If so, I was in deep trouble.
Just as I’m about to fall down that rabbit hole, I glance up at the mirror, and there he is. My knight in shining armor. It’s like I’m looking through his eyes, only I’m looking at him too.
“Indy?”
Fuck. And he’s talking to me. Through the goddamn mirror.
“Zac?”
“How?” he says. “I mean, the dream I kind of get. But I’m definitely awake right now.”
“Shit, that was real?”
“As real as this is.”
I clench my hand into a fist, nails digging into my palm. The pain is sharp. Real enough.
“What’s happening to us?”
“I was about to ask you the same question.”
“So this isn’t a vampire-druid thing?”
He shrugs. “The dream stuff, maybe, but it’s never happened to me before. This waking-dream mirror stuff… no, that’s nothing I’ve ever…”
“I need to see you, please. We have to figure out what this is. I need answers.” Right now, Zac is the only person I trust with my questions.
He hesitates, but I’m not ashamed to beg.
“Please, Zac. I’m scared. I trained with Lynea today and I was… fast. Faster than I’ve ever been before. Like, faster than human fast. Vampire-fast. And I’m talking to you in my dreams and in the fucking mirror. This isn’t normal.”
He holds up his hands placatingly.
“Okay, but we have to be smart about this. Right now, you and I are top of the vampires’ most wanted list. You shouldn’t wander far from the guild house.” He thinks for a moment. “There’s a park right at the end of your street. We’ll meet there tomorrow, when the sun is at its highest, right in the middle of the grass—as far from shade or cover as we can get. But only if it’s a clear sky. If it’s cloudy or overcast, do not leave the guild house. Understand?”
“Yeah. I understand.” I’m confused by the instructions but I go along with it. If it means I get to see Zac, and maybe get some answers as to what’s happening to me, it’ll be worth it. “I’ll see you there.”
I glance away from the mirror and back again, seeing only my own reflection staring back at me.
13
I feel bad sneaking out of the house to meet Zac, but I can’t think of an excuse to tell anyone that wouldn’t have one of them insisting on accompanying me. Taking a careful look around the street, I climb down the steps. The sun is bright and high in the cloudless sky.
I reach the sidewalk and turn left, walking quickly, looking out for anyone acting strangely. No one gives me a second glance as I cross the road into the park, heading right to the center, just like Zac said. He’s already there, stretched out on the grass, basking in the sunlight.
I crouch down beside him, relieved and happy to see him again.
“You’re half-vampire. Shouldn’t you at least be a little sunburned right now?”
He gives me a slow grin, stretching like a cat. “I’m also half-druid. Druids thrive in the sun. It’s the source of our power.” He pats the patch of grass next to him. “Join me, we’ll power up together.”
I lie down next to him, feeling a little uncomfortable until I’m on my back on the grass, the sun warming my skin.
“Feels good, huh?”
“Yeah.”
I roll onto my side so I can see his face. “Why are we here? I mean, here here.”
He lowers his voice to a murmur.
“The vampires’ human proxies are under weakest control during the middle of the day, especially when the sun is at its strongest and there’s no shade. If one of them walked into the park right now, they’d get dazed and confused, forget why they were here, and wander right back out.”
“Then it’s safe to talk?”
He lifts his head and takes a quick look around before settling back on the grass next to me. “Not about this,” he says softly. “Never about this.”
“But please… I need to know. What’s a
Seeker? Why did Matthias think I was one?”
He presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. His touch makes me shiver, draws me closer.
“My knowledge is… sketchy, at best. It’s not something anyone talks about. But I’ve heard whispers.”
“Saying what?”
His voice is so quiet, I can barely hear him.
“That… that Seekers are a threat. To be killed on sight.”
I shake my head. That’s not me. Who am I a danger to?
“What else?”
“The stories say that the Seekers were created to destroy an ancient evil but something went wrong.”
“Wrong? Wrong how?”
He shrugs, his fingers stroking along my cheek.
“The evil wasn’t destroyed. The master races decreed that the Seekers were dangerous and started killing them. That’s why Matthias didn’t hesitate when he believed that’s what you were.”
“If Seekers are so dangerous, why did he bring me right into the middle of his home before making sure I wasn’t a threat?”
Zac gives my question some thought, his thumb idly tracing my cheekbone.
“When I was a kid, the threat seemed bigger. Matthias spoke about Seekers often with his guards. And then it stopped. Like it just wasn’t a problem anymore. When Matthias saw you, when he realized what you are…he was shocked. Do you know how hard it is to shock a thousand-year-old vampire?”
“Maybe he was wrong. He’s old, right? Like…ancient. Maybe he was confused?”
“Funny, Blue,” Zac says, caressing my neck.
He leans in and presses his mouth to mine, and I return the kiss. My worries fall away at the touch of his lips. His tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, nudging gently. I part my lips, tasting him, little sparks of pleasure zinging through my body as heat builds low in my abdomen.
A few minutes pass before I pull away, glancing up into Zac’s green eyes.
“I’m not a Seeker.”
He looks puzzled by my breathless assertion but smiles.
“If you say so,” he teases. “The mirror thing was a nice parlor trick, by the way. How’d you manage that?”
