“Where are your parents? I’m reading the report and it says here you’re fifteen.”
I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth—
“That would be me,” a voice said behind me.
I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Her heels on the tile were almost inaudible, her pitch authoritative, and the light hand on my shoulder too firm.
“Are you aware of the charges brought against your daughter, Mrs. Foster?” he asked, interrupting my train of thought.
I scowled. “I’m not her daughter.”
“Mariana Stormer, and I am her guardian. Yes, I’m well aware, and it’s been squared away already. You can release her now,” she said, all too sweetly. There was definitely something off about her.
“I have to run it past my superior—” His cellphone went off. My aunt squeezed my shoulder gently. “Yes . . . but . . . okay . . . yes, sir.” He looked up from the phone. Dumbstruck.
A shadow of a smirk crossed my lips.
“You’re released,” he said with apprehension. He came around to uncuff me. “The assault charges are being dropped. Consider this a warning.”
I smirked in his direction as I walked out.
He met my gaze with a suspicious look that transformed as I came closer. Uneasiness—as if he could sense the danger I presented—and confusion. Subconsciously, he knew I was different. I wasn’t like him. I wasn’t human.
“Mrs. Stormer, will you please sign the release papers?” He beckoned from the desk, but his gaze didn’t stray from me.
“Wait outside. We’re going to have a talk when we get home,” she said in a hushed voice intended for my ears only.
I looked back one last time before leaving. Mariana was tall and arrogant with a beauty very different from my mother’s—hard, and colder than most, but it was beauty, nonetheless.
That wasn’t what I saw in her. I saw something else, something darker. Instead of her velvety voice or carefully placed smile, I saw the strain behind it. The harshness in her eyes that hinted at a different woman. Was there more to her?
Perhaps.
Or perhaps I was closer to crazy than even I knew.
~.~.~
It was silent for about ten seconds. I was grateful for that, at least. It gave me a chance to compose myself into the unreadable figure I was supposed to be. The mask I couldn’t take off. It gave me ten seconds to find an excuse. A lie.
“Honestly, Selena. You’re the one with self-control. If you can’t keep it together, how am I supposed to expect her to?” My Aunt Mariana thrust her chin toward the rearview mirror that reflected my ill-tempered sister. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said she knew something. Something she shouldn’t. Something dangerous.
“What?” My stomach flipped.
She sighed and closed her eyes. “I really didn’t want to spring this on you. I told them you wouldn’t take it well, but I only have a limited amount of time here.” She sighed.
Terror gripped me, aided by adrenaline. Fight or flight. I stiffened.
“What are you talking about?” I don’t know which of us said it, but somehow one of us managed to say the words we’d rehearsed so many times. They weren’t for a cover-up this time; they were meant to buy time. The problem was, here on the road to nowhere, we had nothing but time.
“You know what I’m talking about. All of you do, and the longer you pretend you don’t, the harder this is going to be.” Her voice was solid, strong, but her hands gripped the wheel, and her gaze was glued to the road, unblinking. She was nervous. Which meant she wasn’t stupid. To approach three unknowns in a car alone was suicide.
“You’re one of us,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
Chapter 3
I hadn’t seen a Supernatural in five years. They’d abandoned us. Forgotten us. Yet here sat one of my closest remaining relatives, unveiling not only her secret, but also our own. What was I supposed to think? Feel?
“But the rest of your family’s human.”
There was no point denying it now. She knew. I was lost, though. Confused. Conflicted. Confined. As emotions raged through my system, anger came out on top.
“Yes.”
“How?” I demanded.
“We were adopted, your mother and I.”
Speechless.
Five years ago, our parents died. Five years, we’ve spent in the human world. Five years, we’ve struggled to keep our identity under wraps. Five years, she’d waited. In those years, we lived with humans not even remotely related to us, and yet Mariana still waited. I’d always assumed my mother was a bastard child by the woman I called grandmother, but ‘adopted’ opened a whole new can of worms.
Which begged the question: why? Why had they done this to us? Why hadn’t Mariana taken us? Why had it happened like this?
Too many questions and not enough answers.
“Why are we only coming to live with you now?” Alexandra spoke up from behind me. Her voice was hard, like my own. This wasn’t some heartfelt family reunion; it was an interrogation.
“My daughters are both Supernaturals. I had to be sure you were as well before I could take custody of you,” Mariana said dismissively.
“The signs have been there since the first house burned down.” Alexandra rolled her eyes.
“Outside factors sometimes have a bigger impact than you would think, dear.” She shrugged. I didn’t buy the passive nonchalance she was trying to sell.
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Alexandra raised her voice, unyielding.
“It means I’m not explaining myself to a fifteen-year-old. I understand that you’re angry, Alexandra, but I need you to trust me right now. There are things going on that you don’t know about; things that require you to believe I have your best interests at heart. Can you do that?”
“Give me one reason I should.”
“Because you don’t exactly have a lot of options at the moment. I’m the last person before foster care, and I think you know that,” she snapped.
In the mirror I saw the glare Alexandra was giving her. I had to rein this in.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said.
A single look over my shoulder conveyed the message to my sister.
Shut the hell up.
Mariana must have her reasons. She wouldn’t do this to her own flesh and blood otherwise. She wouldn’t wait five years without one.
You have secrets too—terrible and destructive, another voice whispered dangerously. Things that would make her turn this car around in a heartbeat. Who are you to judge?
I stared glumly out the window. The shock was wearing off, replaced by even harder questions that I didn’t know how to answer. Who was I to judge? Mariana didn’t know all of it; that much was obvious. She’d only skimmed the surface. So where did that leave us? Did we trust her? Did I trust her?
Can I?
She said she had our best interests at heart, but people seldom did. She was family . . . but not really. She hadn’t been there once in the last fifteen years. So what was her motivation? Why did she want us? Why now? Perhaps she felt guilt about what happened to our parents. She would’ve taken us five years ago if that were the case. Either way, she was Supernatural, and that counted for something. Or did it?
The way I was raised, being Supernatural meant everything. Anything less wasn’t anything at all. Humans and dogs, they were all the same to my kind. Surely the people who’d taught me that would’ve wanted this. They would’ve wanted us to go with her. Wouldn’t they?
I pushed away the unsure voice. My mind was made up, regardless of where this path took us—or how I felt about it. They would’ve wanted this, and I owed it to them to see it through.
Only one question remained.
“What happens now?”
I could feel Alexandra’s incredulous gawk, and Lily’s bewildered stare. They didn’t understand my line of thought—not yet, anyway. All they could see was what was right here in front of them.
That was my job, my life. I could see what needed to happen and do what needed to be done. I would ensure we survived. No matter the costs.
“My dear, dear niece. Now it’s time for your life to really begin,” she said softly, turning her eyes to the road. There was sadness in them, behind the gray, so similar in color to my own.
I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I had a feeling we were about to find out.
~.~.~
I didn’t speak after that, and my aunt didn’t push it. She seemed to know that my cooperation—and by extension, my sisters—was limited and coming to an end. I understood her predicament, but I also knew the risk I was taking by going into a situation with so little information. We were both out of options.
Alexandra resorted to throwing me filthy looks from the backseat. I didn’t know what to tell her; I knew as little as she did. Mariana was being intentionally vague, and we all had more questions than answers. I wasn’t in a place to challenge our aunt, and neither was she. Her audacity, as always, astounded me. Why couldn’t she understand?
“It’s beautiful,” Lily whispered.
The mansion looming in front of us was weathered, seemingly abandoned, and vastly eerie despite the sunset painting it in a soft glow. Back in the day, it might’ve been beautiful. Now . . . not so much. I glanced at Mariana. How could someone with her polished looks and sterile car live here? The driveway was new; stylish and attractive, but subtle enough most wouldn’t notice it when they looked at the house. Perhaps it was all a façade.
“We’re late. Leave your things. Fiona will get them during dinner,” she said.
I followed her as we approached the house.
Ivy wove in and out between the steps and through the walkway. It climbed the stone and encroached on the roof. The only things left unscathed were the dark mahogany doors. Embellished carvings spanned from one door to the next—beautiful despite the chips and nicks from age. Brass handles shone like gold, completing the vintage home that—in its better days—could’ve belonged to Gatsby.
The picture was one-sided. When Mariana opened the door, the aged wood gave way to marble floors and modern styling. Everything was stark white—floors, walls, couches—aside from a blood-red rug. A staircase with no railing wrapped around the room, starting at my left and ending at my right. There was a brief hallway leading to the kitchen; stainless steel dominating the hanging lights and modern appliances. Black cabinets with glass panels showcased iron kitchenware, while a grand island displayed a buffet that could’ve fed an army. The most striking thing of all was the entire back wall made of glass. I let out a low whistle. We came from Carrie’s shabby, mismatched furniture and plastic plates, not gold spoons and Lamborghinis.
“In here, dears.”
I followed her through the door to my left. My feet came to an immediate halt. Blood-red walls and archaic chandeliers dragged me back in time, to a memory of sitting at a table very similar to this one. Blood. I could remember the blood. I saw it everywhere, even though it wasn’t real. The sickly omen threatened to drown me, and stumbling forward, I grabbed for the only solid thing within my reach—the table. Panic fought to take over. I knew it was there, but the memory was a distant thing. Like looking through a haze only to find nothing.
Someone reached for me, and my body reacted on instinct. I swiped the encroaching arm away then stepped in to throw the attacker back. I wrapped my hand around her throat and moved to slam her head into the wall. Inches before impact, I saw my error and hesitated. Lily. My attacker was Lily. I snatched my hand away, and stepped back to put distance between us.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, looking away.
Everyone’s eyes turned to me.
“Damn it, Selena. Seriously?” Alexandra said.
I cut my eyes her way and glared. After everything that had happened in the last week, the last thing I wanted to deal with was her attitude.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Lily choked.
Was I really that on edge that I couldn’t tell the difference between my sister and my demons? The unwelcome thought crept into my mind as I averted my eyes.
She knows not to touch me.
Especially during an episode. I turn volatile.
“Those are quite the reflexes,” a blonde with gray eyes said.
“Yes,” I said, turning to the blonde.
She was a dead ringer for Lily, with long, wavy blond hair and pale skin—though not as pale as mine. From a distance, they could’ve easily been confused, but those eyes . . . I couldn’t get past them. So like my own, cold and ruthless.
What perplexed me was that she wasn’t the only one with them, just the only one who made me think of myself. Mariana’s were similar, but when I looked at her, I saw a broken woman. Everyone said she’d slipped a little after Mom died, but maybe there was more to it. Then there was the matter of the Hot Topic brunette sitting at the opposite head of the table. She was pretty, but not outstandingly so. Her face was as forgettable as her bored expression as she sat with her legs thrown over the arm of the chair. She may have had my eyes, but they were also singularly her own. They held no malice, cruelty, or dispassion. On the contrary, she was an open book. She didn’t guard her emotions. It was so very strange to look at her and see a complete and total stranger staring back without a shadow of unease. How could she sit at a table with three unknown Supernaturals but not have a care in the world?
Several moments of tense silence had already passed, and my calculating stare was only making it worse. “Forgive me. It’s been a very long day, given the circumstances. I think I should go lie down.”
“Of course. Follow the stairs up to the third floor. I’ll have Fiona bring your things . . . ” Mariana trailed off, looking at the bag slung over my shoulder.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, leaving the room without sparing my sisters a glance. They would have to deal without me for half an hour.
I took the stairs two at a time then walked through the matching double doors. On the other side, I came to a spiral staircase. Wanting to put as much distance between myself and everyone downstairs, I climbed.
I was expecting more ominous colors on the third floor, not that it really mattered. We moved so much I rarely bothered with painting a bedroom. Bright and sunny yellow wasn’t expected. The bright egg yolk color was an eyesore.
I threw my bag on the bed as I paced. A headache was coming on, courtesy of the events of the day. I’d almost been arrested in the airport. My extended family of Supernaturals had shown up out of nowhere. Now my episode in the dining room. What the hell was going on with me? I reached into the side of my bag for Tylenol and downed four pills.
Does that make twelve today? Sixteen?
I didn’t even know anymore. In any case, my metabolism worked so fast I would probably burn through them in an hour.
The darkness crept in on me. I wanted to bang my head on the wall so hard I couldn’t feel it anymore. Couldn’t feel anything. But I had responsibilities. Things more important than losing my fucking mind. We were living in a house with three unknown Supernaturals. Not to mention the more pressing issue of keeping my ability hidden. I was dormant now, but my demons wouldn’t be suppressed so easily. I was going to need a cover, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how I would find one.
I could hear voices coming from downstairs. Even with my hearing, they were still only the smallest of whispers. Warning bells were already starting to go off as I approached the spiral staircase in the center of our room.
“They’re hiding something,” Alexandra whispered.
Dinner’s over already?
Mariana must keep it short and to the point.
“You think I don’t know that?” Lily whispered back.
I heard her soft thudding steps as they ascended the stairs. Alexandra was far stealthier. It helped that she didn’t walk like a caveman.
I didn’t bother moving as they rounded the final curve and came into view. The look on Alexandra’s face inst
antly turned hostile.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” she whispered.
At least she had the decency to keep her voice down. I put a finger to my lips and cut my eyes to the bathroom. She got the hint and went with me while Lily followed behind.
The bathroom was huge with white tiles and porcelain surfaces covering the space, giving it a distinctly feminine feel. I flipped the bathtub on, allowing the water to drown out our voices as I turned to my sister.
“I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m the enemy here, but I’m getting sick of you second-guessing everything I do. Obviously, I have my reasons, and I’ve more than proven myself to you a hundred times over.” I was ice, and my voice reflected the distance I’d put between myself and any type of emotion.
“Selena, it’s been a long day . . . ” Lily murmured. She sat on the counter with her legs dangling over, watching the fight. Usually, it was the other way around, and I had to play referee.
“You know what I’m getting sick of? You acting like you’re my parent. They might be dead, but no one appointed your ass as queen! Why do you get to make all the decisions?” She kept raising her voice until she was shouting. Where I lacked in emotion, she was nothing but. Fire was in my sister’s very core.
“That’s why. You’re too immature. Did you ever stop to think when you were running your mouth like a fool today? Regardless of why Mariana brought us here, this is our last stop before foster care. What are the odds that someone would be willing to take triplets with a record like ours? Huh? Fighting. Drugs. Three counts of arson. Who the hell would be dumb enough to take us on?”
Oh, she’d pissed me off this time. I was going to rip her a new one that would make my usual reprimands look pale in comparison. She was going to remember this a year from now and then some.
“So, please tell me—because I’m just dying to hear—why you would act like a demanding little bitch to Mariana, who knows damn well the power she holds? She’s a Supernatural, Alexandra! Did it never occur to you that maybe there’s a legitimate reason we ended up here finally? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s the last stop.” I paused, and took a shaky breath. I gripped the leash, forcing the monster to heel. “Did you seriously believe I hadn’t considered why? That I didn’t see how sketchy this situation is—magical fairy godmother pops up after five years to save triplets from foster care?” Sarcasm rolled off me in waves. The leash I kept my monster on felt too tight. The disease. My disease. Insanity. They couldn’t know. They couldn’t find out just how much of a battle it was for control.
Daizlei Academy Omnibus Collection Page 2
