The Culling (Book 1): Splinter Skill

by Bell, A. C.

  Splinter Skill

  by A. C. Bell

  © 2018 A. C. Bell

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  1 Blissfully Oblivious

  “Adeline Parker?”

  I looked up from my lap, where I had my hands tightly clasped together. “That’s me.”

  The admission woman offered a reassuring smile and stepped aside to hold her door open with her back. “Come on in.”

  I smiled and slung my purse onto my shoulder and crossed the hall to her office. Inside, the sterile smell you find in most government buildings was replaced by the pleasant scent of lilacs from a candle on her desk. I waited for her to shut the door and then extended a hand to her, which she shook. Her skin looked unbelievably pale compared to the golden complexion I’d inherited from my mother’s Egyptian roots.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said in an overtly bubbly manner that I hoped hid my nerves.

  “You as well, Ms. Parker. My name is Felicia Spinet,” she said as she sat behind her desk. Her red curls bounced as she did so. I anxiously set my rump on the end of the chair across from her. “I know this is a little unusual, but I wanted to talk about your application to our academy.”

  “Yeah, I was surprised to hear back from you guys so soon. I didn’t realize early admission was a thing in law enforcement. I haven’t even taken my entrance exams yet. This isn’t because of... well,” I shifted awkwardly in my seat. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but at the same time, I didn’t want to receive any unearned shortcuts. “It’s not about my dad is it?”

  Mrs. Spinet smiled. “This isn’t because of your father. Your name did put you on our radar because of him, but it’s you we like. We’ve received glowing recommendations from both your high school teachers and your college professors. You have several qualifications that some of our other applicants don’t since we don’t require applicants to take criminal justice courses in high school. We think you would be a wonderful fit in our academy.”

  My nerves began to ebb. “Really?”

  “Mhm. I did want to ask, though, why you waited so long to apply. I see that you took criminology, sociology, and psychology in high school and got top marks in physical education. It seems like you already wanted to apply, but instead you waited a year after graduation.”

  “My mom and I got into a really bad fight about it, so I tried to find something else I wanted to do.” The memory brought a frown to my lips. Mom and I didn’t fight often and that fight had been particularly gnarly. I knew it would break her heart when she found out I was applying to the police academy. “But even after a year, my major is still undecided because I’ve tried not to do the one thing I feel like I’m meant to do. So, here I am.”

  She smiled again. “Unfortunately, we can’t squeeze you into our Fall semester since our courses are already full, but if you pass your entrance exams and everything, we will have a slot ready for you starting in the Spring.”

  Warmth swelled in my chest and I beamed. After the meeting, I found myself in the hall, still grinning like an idiot. In the main lobby, I passed a memorial wall for officers lost in the line of duty. Fourth from the left, I found Dad’s portrait.

  My nose tingled as emotion swept through me and I blinked a few times to stop the tears from coming. I fondly fingered the glinting silver badge on his chest in the photo. His shield. His blue eyes, which I’d inherited, shone with pride and joy, so happy to be in uniform. I smiled sadly. Just maybe, this time next year, I would be taking a similar picture.

  ***

  A knock at the door woke me the next morning. Nikki, my best friend, was already off in class. Once I was certain I hadn't imagined the obnoxious thumping, I began fumbling out of bed. The knock came again.

  “Coming,” I grumbled.

  I finally managed to flounder my way drowsily to the door, not bothering to turn on the light or tame my unruly mane of wavy black curls. It was barely 7:30. Who would dare disturb my sleep? I pulled the door open.

  “What do you want?” I balked in surprise. No one was there. “Hello?”

  I leaned into the hall and caught a glimpse of a figure turning the corner; Of his smooth black hair and absurdly wealthy wardrobe. The tail of his knee-length coat whipped around the corner after him. He didn’t look at all familiar. Maybe he’d realized he had the wrong room?

  I moved to go after him to be sure when my toes bumped into something. My gaze shot down. A dark brown leather-bound book sat at my socked feet, a dark void on the nauseating carpet design in the dim morning light. I bent and picked it up, curiosity now tuning out my drowsiness. Why had this stranger left a book at my door? I hurried down the hall, my socks whispering softly across the carpet.

  “Wait, sir!” I called out.

  Scampering through the corridor, I spotted him sweeping through the lobby. The receptionist, typing something into her computer, paused as he passed, not oblivious to his good looks and wealthy attire. He headed for the main doors.

  “Sir?” I called stopping at the opening into the lobby, the book still clutched in my hand.

  A feeling of déjà vu wisped through my mind as he turned toward me. Something about his sharp features and the laugh lines that framed his grey eyes... I had seen him before, but where? A smile lit his face, as strong and certain as his pale eyes. There was no doubt. For whatever reason, this book had been intended for me. He pushed the doors open into the morning sunlight without a word.

  Confused and a bit dazed, I turned and ambled back to my room. The cover of the book was decorated with four small metal tablets in the center, each engraved with a decorative symbol. Staring in disbelief, I pulled a ring off the tiny nightstand below our window and held it in front of the book. A slim ruby was set in the center of a silver crescent moon, giving it the appearance of an elliptical eye. On the underside, a faint line could be seen where it had been resized. My father had left it to me, the only clue we had to the woman who had abandoned him as a baby.

  The bottom right engraving on this book was the exact same as the ring. It could be a coincidence. The design was hardly intricate. A tickle in the back of my mind didn’t believe that, though. I flipped open the cover and discovered an envelope the size of a playing card. Inside was tucked a note on a piece of thick white parchment, inscribed with three lines in fine penmanship:

  If you want further information,

  produce this token to the appropriate authority.

  Underneath was an address. A token? I opened the manila envelope and emptied its contents into my hand. A strange coin fell into my palm. The same four emblems as on the cover of the book was printed into one side. I turned the cold metal over and found flower blooms sitting in a circle on a larger flower with many petals. I slumped into my chair, thinking as I stared at it. This all seemed very cloak and dagger. I flipped the card over to find three more words: Veritas numquam perit. My Latin was a little rusty—and by rusty, I mean non-existent—so I'd have to look up what that meant. What was all of this? I opened the book to the first page.

  This is a translation of the journal of Xavier Cahn.

  Germany, 1523-1529

  Luckily, it had been translated into English. Why would a stranger leave a journal about someone from the 15th century? Curiosity burned in me, but I decided I should wait to start reading it until I would have more time, so I closed the book and set i
t in a drawer on the right side of the desk.

  That’s when I looked at the clock. 10:01. I was almost late for class. I got dressed in a flurry and yanked the charging cord from my phone. Why hadn’t my alarm gone off? The phone didn’t brighten when the cord popped out. After trying to wake it a few times, I realized it was dead. I didn’t have time to figure out what was wrong with the cord. With my Mythology and Chemistry textbooks in hand, I scurried from the room.

  Class was, of course, in full swing when I cracked the door open and slipped inside. The professor, Gregor was facing the whiteboard and didn’t stop his lecture. Heads swiveled at my entrance and I spotted a familiar face. Kat beamed and pointed to the chair she had saved for me. Her long black hair, often worn in a braid, today framed her ebony, heart-shaped face in lively layers. I quietly snuck over to the chair and set my books on the table. Just when I thought I was in the clear, Gregor turned around.

  “Thank you for joining us, Ms.…” His bushy salt and pepper mustache settled as he waited for me to fill in the blank.

  “Parker. Adeline.” I lowered to my chair dejectedly.

  “Ms. Parker, were you able to get your reading done?”

  “Erm, yes.”

  “What can you tell me about the Celts?”

  Other students empathetically avoided looking at me, not giving my embarrassment a bigger audience. “Uh... well, during the Roman era the Celts populated Gaul, but they sort of ended up in a lot of places, so there was more than one branch; Gaulish, Irish, and Scottish?” I prattled. Gregor listened but gave me no indication as to whether I’d remembered correctly. I resisted the urge to throw my book at him. The book had done nothing to deserve that. I was about to continue babbling when a loud thud jolted everyone out of their boredom. Gregor, who had apparently been focused on my torment, seemed just as startled.

  “I’m sorry, I seem to have dropped my book,” a gravelly voice lulled sarcastically behind me.

  I looked over my shoulder at the guy at the table behind me, who was bent to the side. A sly grin was subtly wiped from his mouth as he returned to view and plopped the textbook onto the table with another loud thud. Kat hid a silent laugh with her notebook. The guy smirked. His thick dark blond hair stood on end in a mess, though I couldn't tell if he'd done so on purpose or if it simply had a personality of its own. His features were pointed and angular, casting dramatic shadows across his face.

  “Right. Let’s... return to the lesson,” Gregor said.

  I slumped in my seat and let out a sigh of relief. Over my shoulder, I gave my rescuer a grateful smile, which he answered with a subtle nod.

  ***

  It was the first warm day in several weeks, so a lot of people were outside baking blissfully in the sun. Peter reread the text he’d gotten from Adeline. “We’re outside the dorm on the left side.” Very helpful, Adeline, Peter thought whimsically. The left side of the building was cluttered with people. Peter took another a whiff of the air. He wouldn’t be able to find Adeline this way, but maybe he could find Nikki. He kept his nose up as he wove around clusters of students. Aha! Finally, through the tangle of smells, he caught a whiff of Nikki’s familiar honey and lilac scent and followed it fifty yards off toward one of the big maple trees.

  Nikki was laying in the shade with an arm draped over her eyes, her flaxen hair splayed out across the grass. Adeline was kicking a soccer ball at a tree so it would bounce back to her. Peter smiled and started their way when another scent caught his attention and dampened his good mood.

  Lamia? They smelled a little off, but they had to be lamia. Two of them. One scent was mingled with the smell of cigarettes and the other with the artificial scent of green apple and black pepper cologne. He scanned the area and found them by the next tree. Both male, both sitting on the ground.

  They were probably just renewing their education. Most lamia returned to college every few decades to keep up with the ever-changing landscape of discovery in their fields of interest. Regardless, Peter straightened his scarf and strutted over to them. Only when his shadow obscured the first, a dark-haired guy in stuffy business attire, did they look up.

  “What?” The other asked in a deep gravelly voice. The Nine Inch Nails logo on his shirt looked so out of place beside the first dude’s suit. Side by side, these didn't look like two people who would be friends.

  “I know what you are. Decided to introduce myself. I’m Peter.”

  “Raiden,” the guy in the suit introduced himself.

  The other smirked up at Peter and lounged back casually on his elbow. “Finding us in all these people and strutting over here to defend your territory? You must be a canisi.” He pronounced the word in the derogatory form to make it sound like ‘c-anus-ee’ rather than ‘can-ee-see’. Peter glared.

  Raiden kicked his leg. “Don’t be rude.” He looked up at Peter. “His name is Slade. Ignore him, he’s in a bad mood today.”

  “Duck!”

  Peter turned to see what Adeline was shouting about just in time to dodge a soccer ball. Raiden was not so lucky. Rather than duck, the call had drawn his attention and the ball smacked his forehead with a loud fwop! He made a noise of surprise and fell onto his back, gripping his forehead. Slade erupted into raucous laughter.

  Peter chortled and extended a hand to help him up. “She kicks hard doesn’t she?” He taunted.

  Raiden groaned with a chuckle. “No kidding.”

  He waved off Peter’s help and sat up, blinking hard. Adeline and Nikki were both sprinting over. Adeline was frowning in horror, her blue eyes wide, but Nikki was trying not to laugh.

  “I’m so sorry!” Adeline insisted. She noticed Peter and did a double take while Nikki sprinted after the ball, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Embarrassment warmed his cheeks.

  He nudged Adeline’s arm teasingly. “Hey, nice shot.”

  She frowned guiltily. “Shut up.”

  A strange look crossed Raiden’s face when he looked up at her. He glanced briefly over his shoulder to his friend, who had fallen quiet. Peter eyed them skeptically.

  “Uh, that’s okay. I’m Raiden. This lug is Slade.”

  Slade sat up and slugged Raiden’s arm. “Who are you calling ‘lug’ you casualty?” He quipped.

  Raiden returned the punch and both gripped their arms in pain. Peter snorted a laugh.

  “Hey, I know you; You’re in my Mythology class,” Adeline said to Slade.

  “And you’re in our chemistry class,” Nikki observed to Raiden.

  An alarm went off in Peter’s head, but he kept quiet.

  “Oh yeah, it’s good to see you again,” Raiden said.

  “You too,” Adeline said, though Peter had known her long enough to know that polite look on her face. She didn’t recognize him. Had he stayed out of view better than his friend, Peter wondered. “Again, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” Adeline offered.

  “Save me a seat in class?”

  “You got it,” she said with a smile. The girls turned to leave until Peter didn’t move.

  “I’ll be there in a sec,” he assured them.

  They shrugged and continued on while Peter turned distrustful eyes on the pests behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest, puffing up in a protective air. Raiden looked uncomfortable, but Slade met Peter’s threatening gaze steadfast.

  “So, you both happen to be in a class of hers and now you just happen to be twenty feet away from where she’s hanging out? Why are you following her?”

  “We don’t mean her any harm.” There was no challenge in Slade’s tone this time.

  “Then what do you want?”

  “We’re just checking up on her for a friend,” Raiden cut in. “We can introduce you to him if that would make you feel better.”

  Slade sent him a look. “We will?”

  Raiden ignored him. “How’s Saturday? Ten o’clock?”

  “Sure. Meet me here.” Peter turned on his heel to leave.

  “Does she know?” Slade asked. />
  Peter stopped. “No, and I think she’s fine that way.”

  “She has a right to—”

  He pivoted. “Can you honestly tell me she’d be better off? You know how people will treat her.”

  “It’s gotten better,” Raiden offered meekly.

  Peter scoffed. “If she can avoid being treated like a menace just because of how she was born, then I’m inclined to let her.” With that, Peter marched back over to Nikki and Adeline, who had resumed their previous activities. Rather than kick it again, Adeline caught her ball on the ricochet when she saw him.

  “Hey, Pete,” She said with a broad smile.

  She plopped the ball on the ground and held out her arms to offer a hug. He smiled and sprinted to scoop her up in a hug, both laughing. He was not oblivious to Nikki refusing to rise and greet him.

  “How was your trip?” He asked as he set her down.

  Both Adeline and Nikki had spent the summer in Salem helping the rebuilding efforts after an earthquake ripped through the area.

  “Great! We helped rebuild six houses.”

  Peter ruffled her hair and she swatted his hand away. “You mean Nikki used a hammer?”

  “Shut up, Twerp,” Nikki griped from her napping position.

  When she didn’t even look up, he refocused on Adeline. “Oh hey, how’d your interview go?”

  “Really well. They want to get me in during the Spring.”

  “Yes!” Peter offered a high-five, which she accepted enthusiastically. “So, when do you think you’ll, uh, tell your mom?”

  She visibly deflated and guilt gnawed on his stomach.

  “I’m not sure. It’ll crush her.”

  “Maybe not. She knows you. Maybe she just needed time to come to terms with it.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled up. He looked over his shoulder at Slade and Raiden. Raiden swiveled back around and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, but Slade made no move to pretend he hadn’t been watching them. Annoyance prickled in Peter’s chest. He turned back to the girls.