“So good,” I heard one guy say as he passed.
“I know. I’m on my third serving,” the guy next to him replied.
My mouth dropped open as I turned to Ruck. “Did you hear that? They’re eating everything. Haven’t they ever been fed before?”
I could tell from Ruck’s sneer he had taken note as well.
I threw my hands up, not caring if I accidentally nailed someone in the face. “I gotta go. I’m going to grab a biscuit and get out of here before I do something really bad.” I hadn’t intentionally zapped someone in a while, but I felt a charge coming on.
I cut the line and grabbed a few biscuits, daring the row of newcomers with an evil glare to say something. No one did, and I darted out of there before my fist met someone’s face.
One annoyance behind me, I made my way to the path. Practice with Ryker was never something I looked forward to, but even less now. I hadn’t seen him since the infamous meeting at yesterday’s breakfast, and I’d done a lot of thinking in that time. Bottom line was that I had bigger problems than a little embarrassment and rejection. He didn’t want me sexually. So what? He still needed me, and I needed him. My time was ticking away. I couldn’t get all girly and weird.
The field was empty, which was nice, since I could finish my biscuits in peace. I sat on the stone Ryker normally hogged and made myself comfortable, knowing I was the early one for a change.
My biscuits were long gone and he still wasn’t there. I hadn’t wanted to see him today and he didn’t bother showing? At least yesterday he’d told me. This time I didn’t even get a message delivered. Did he not realize my life was slipping away? The higher the sun got in the sky, the more my blood boiled. By the time I decided to leave, I was stomping my way down the path to his house.
Fine, I’d tried to sleep with him and he wasn’t interested. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but our entire dynamic had gone to shit in that moment. Ruck thought dying a virgin was the worst possible end, but living with Ryker post-offer was clearly purgatory.
If he thought he could walk all over me now, he was going to see what the bottom of my boot felt like as I kicked his ass. And I would. It was all about determination.
I marched toward his place, each step getting a little stompier.
To make matters worse, I was waylaid on my way there. The optimistic face of the girl running toward me made me want to stomp back up the hill.
“You’re Bugs, right?”
“Let me guess, you’re a friend of Kallie’s?” I knew that chick who’d wanted me to ask the worm if she would have a baby wasn’t going to keep her mouth shut.
The girl nodded vigorously.
I threw up a hand before she could speak. “I’ve retired. I don’t worm any more under any conditions. No exceptions.”
“But—”
“No. Exceptions.”
Her face fell. I ignored the drop. I continued my way to Ryker’s, leaving a melting snowflake in my wake.
When I got there, the door was locked, but I could hear the voices inside, and then it struck me. What if more people had died? Just because Ruck and I hadn’t heard meant nothing. Maybe that was why Ryker had stood me up?
I lifted my fist, ready to bang on the door, when Ryker opened it.
“Is everything okay? Did anyone—”
“No. Nothing new.” He squinted. “The runner didn’t get you the message?”
“What message?” I asked, my hands on my hips. No one was dead? He left me sitting there and everyone was still living?
“Needed to cancel.”
He was canceling on me again. Seriously? I was the one that didn’t want to practice, so why was he the one that kept standing me up? I was never stripping for another man—ever. I’d die a virgin and it would be a blessing.
I was about to tell him that when I heard a cough from somewhere inside.
“For a small package, she does pack a punch,” a deep male voice said.
I poked my head in the door because I was still on the stoop, having not been invited in. Ryker was probably afraid I’d spontaneously shed my clothes if I came in.
My attention shifted from Ryker to the company in the room. The new guy was standing over by the table, his arms crossed. His hair almost appeared black, except for the auburn highlights, and his eyes were nearly as dark. He had thighs the size of logs, and the rest of his body matched.
For all the muscles, that wasn’t what was imposing about him. It was his magic. I could feel the ebb and flow of it, even as it was so nicely contained. He was polite, keeping it in check, but it was strong. Not quite as strong as Ryker’s, but easily in the top five I’d encountered.
This had to be Knife, the leader of Dorley. I stepped inside to get a better grasp on the new Wyrd Blood that would be on my turf.
It was clear why he was a leader. He was too strong to follow someone else, and no one was caging this man with the feral look he had about him. It also made sense why Ryker and Knife played nice with each other. If these two went at it, they’d scorch half this world.
Knife was appraising me in return. “You need to get that under control a bit, no?”
Great. Another asshole who thought my magic was chaotic and was going to tell me daily. Just what I needed.
“My—”
“Keep your Wyrd Blood away from her and there won’t be a problem,” Ryker said from a few feet behind me, having shut the door and followed behind.
Was this the same man who constantly told me I was out of control? Did he really tell this guy, who had to be the one and only Knife that it was his people’s problem? Maybe I wouldn’t mind the invasion.
“Bugs, if you haven’t guessed, this is Knife.”
“Knife? As in the guy who brought all the people who are eating our food stock bare? That Knife? Nice to meet you.” I nodded, smiling.
He nodded in return, as if I’d left out all the words before “nice to meet you.”
“And you’re Bugs, the girl who raided our chuggers, robbing the food that you now begrudge us? Equally nice to meet you.”
I walked over to lean on the chair, mirroring his position. “By my estimates, your people are going to be eating us out of more food than whatever I took by the end of today.”
“Would you care for an accounting?” Knife asked. “I can supply one for you.”
“Let’s call it even,” Ryker interjected. “Because we are. Remember?”
He was talking to Knife. I had no idea what he meant. As far as I knew, I was in the hole for as many chuggers full of food as I’d stolen. The ones they could prove I stole, at least, which might be none.
Knife glanced over at Ryker and tilted his head. I glanced as well, trying to tell him with my eyes that I didn’t need anyone to defend me. I could handle Knife on my own and still make it to lunch with a few minutes to spare.
My attention was jerked back to Knife. His eyes ran over every inch of exposed skin I had, as if he’d find my markings there. He knew I’d have them. Every Wyrd Blood, or person of magic, did. If they were on my arms, I surely wouldn’t have worn short sleeves.
“Where are they?” Knife asked, as if he had every right to interrogate me.
He didn’t, which I’d clear up fast. You didn’t vomit out a question like that. I’d spent most of my life in the Ruins and I still knew you didn’t do that. First his men eat all the food and now this crap? Between his people and him, it wasn’t painting a very civilized picture of Dorley.
“Where are yours?” It wasn’t a question so much as an attack.
He put a hand up. “No offense.” Then he shrugged, but he didn’t stop looking.
Too late. I was offended. I’d have to nail down this guy’s schedule so I could avoid him. It was that or I’d end up killing him, and I had too many people in line to squeeze him into the schedule.
I straightened and took a step toward the door. I’d seen more than enough. Burn and Sneak had been dead-on. He was insufferable, maybe worse than R
yker.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
I stopped mid-stride. I’d get to see his? That changed everything. The guy was packing some serious heat, and I’d gotten to see so few markings, or hardcore ones, like the kind Ryker and I had. Ryker wasn’t exactly whipping his shirt off and letting me examine them. Then again, neither was I. And due to lack of mirrors, I hadn’t seen mine in forever. How could I turn an opportunity like this down if he wasn’t bullshitting me?
I turned, keeping my excitement buried. He’d be the type to look first and then screw me. “You show first.”
Knife grabbed the hem of his shirt, and Ryker’s magic flowed up. If Knife noticed, he didn’t care. He finished pulling it off, displaying a nicely formed chest and killer abs. Too bad Ruck wasn’t here to appreciate them.
I was more interested in the hard, jagged lines crisscrossing his torso. Markings on the torso were a big deal. The only thing that trumped them was markings on your back. The stronger the magic, the closer to the heart. But for some reason, nothing trumped the back. Other than Ryker and I, these were the best markings I’d ever seen.
I stared for as long as I thought I could, without getting weird. The light seemed to reflect off his markings as if they were slivers of metal weaved into his skin. I could’ve looked for days.
“What can you do?” I asked, forcing myself to keep my distance and not touch them.
Knife looked around the room.
“Don’t,” Ryker said. “An explanation will suffice.”
Knife let out a laugh before turning his attention back to me with a gleam in his eyes. “I’m like a live razor, spinning lightning fast in every direction.” He swung his hand in the air with a dramatic flair. “I hit something and I can slice it. Someone hits me, they lose a hand, and I’ve got great range.”
That sounded downright nasty, but now I was positive about Ryker and Knife’s relationship. In this world, if you couldn’t beat them, you’d better make friends with them. Although I wasn’t completely sure Ryker couldn’t beat Knife. You’d see Knife’s magic coming for you in a wave of bloodied bodies and screams. Ryker’s snuck its way in. You were dead before you knew what hit. I still remembered walking out of Bedlam among the bodies. I’d been stuck on the top of that tower and had no idea of the bloodshed happening below.
“Now you,” Knife said.
I turned to give him my back as Ryker came closer, his magic heating my skin. Knife drew my attention back to him.
“Seriously?” Knife asked, his voice soft, as if he didn’t quite believe they’d be there.
“Seriously.” I pulled my shirt up until the hem rested on my shoulders, while keeping the front tucked close to my chest.
“Holy fucking magic,” Knife said breathlessly.
I heard steps getting closer and a hand grazed my back, but it was Ryker’s touch.
“They’ve grown,” he said. His hands went to my shoulders and angled me toward the door.
I looked over my shoulder at Ryker. “Really? How much?”
“Enough.” His hand trailed down my back. “This is where they used to end.” His hand moved down another inch or so. “This is where they are now. The rest are more intense, as if the vines have grown.”
I hoped he blamed the chill for the goosebumps breaking out on my skin.
“I’ve never seen them in direct sunlight before. Did they always shimmer like this?” Ryker’s hands traced the marks.
For someone who didn’t want me, he was getting awfully touchy. “I don’t know.”
“No way that’s only wards,” Knife said from by the table.
Only? Wasn’t that enough? I shoved my shirt down, looking for an excuse to cover my flesh. “I’d put my wards up against your weed whacking any day.”
“No offense. They just don’t look like wards.” Knife’s brows dropped. “If the markings are increasing, her range will too. She needs to get her—”
“And I told you, you need to keep your people away,” Ryker said.
Knife flashed an annoyed look but didn’t say anything more. If anyone was paying attention to me, they would’ve seen pure confusion. Who was this person that kept defending my lack of control?
Although they both had a point, even if Knife didn’t realize Ryker agreed with him. Accidentally killing another Wyrd Blood didn’t seem like fun. Eating breakfast and taking out another life as I made my way back to my room. Strolling to the showers and racking up another murder. I’d end up stuck sitting in my room for however long they stayed.
I’d heard enough. I was going to have to do something, and soon. Now I needed to figure out how.
13
Dinner was better than breakfast. Still busier, but at least you could walk a straight path in the food building. Knife had brought so many people with him that they’d split dinner service into two shifts. You couldn’t tell by our table, though, with only Burn and I. No one tried to sit with us, either. I wasn’t sure whose expression was scaring them off, as neither of us looked very jolly. And for as much interaction as we were having, I might as well have been sitting by myself.
I cleared my throat, gearing up to make some sort of social effort, but didn’t bother. Burn’s gaze was stuck on Marra like a fly caught in a vat of hollyhoney.
Maybe the silence in the midst of the overwhelming chitchat wasn’t a horrible thing. It sort of reminded me of my brain at the moment. I couldn’t quite form any logical thoughts or plans, but I had lots of chaos running around inside. Although I’d prefer the silence to be of the content variety, and that definitely was not the case for Burn.
I glanced across the room, to Marra’s table. How could she sit there and eat with her Bugs and Ruck imposters, pretending that Burn wasn’t staring at her like a dog looking for a scrap? I’d never discussed the Marra situation with Burn, but I’d secretly hoped she talked to him. She was making it really hard to excuse her behavior. When she ignored me, at least I could handle it. With Burn, it was akin to kicking a puppy.
“When was the last time you two spoke?”
His head whipped back toward me, color tinging his cheeks. Man, he had it so bad that he hadn’t realized he’d been staring.
“I don’t remember.” He looked up as if it were a struggle. “Few days after we got back?”
My guess was he knew down to the minute. He probably remembered everything he’d said to her, too. And whatever she’d signaled to him, or the toss of her hair, the way she smelled.
I bit into a dry biscuit. Who baked these things? Did the good cooks get put on the second shift? One day of the intruders and the food was going way downhill.
But back to the Burn problem—seemed she’d cut us all off at the same time. I’d learned she blamed me. Now I was thinking she blamed us all. I saw the gaping wound in Burn’s heart, the one that was bleeding out through his eyes, and I wished I’d taken all the blame.
Burn was the type of guy to leave you cookies and not tell you they were from him. He’d shadow you home if he thought you were having problems. You’d never have to ask for his help, and he’d never mention it. He was that guy. He deserved the best, and what he was getting from Marra was the stuff you tried to wipe off the bottom of your shoes.
“How’s that teacher doing? You talk to her lately?” Because there’s other fish in the sea, buddy. You only need to look around and you’ll find a nice girl.
“She’s fine.”
He wasn’t looking over his shoulder at Marra anymore, but he wanted to. I could tell. I’d done the same thing with Ryker. Not that I wanted him either. Not sure where that comparison even came from. Why was I thinking of him? Burn needed me.
“I got the sense you liked her?” Remember that? The other woman?
“I guess.” He shrugged.
If Marra wanted to ignore me, it was one thing, but watching her ignore everyone else was quickly eating through my patience. We’d all lost Sinsy. Yes, Sinsy hadn’t been my blood sister, but she’d been like
a sister.
Sinsy had been there for my first period, when I thought I was going to bleed out and die. We’d kept each other up at night with stories of the places we’d go one day and the lives we’d have. Mostly, it was the life she’d have. I’d always known mine was destined for turmoil, since I was a Wyrd Blood. But her dreams had helped to keep me going.
There wasn’t a morning I woke that part of me didn’t expect to see her for breakfast, or a night I didn’t miss telling stories with her. Marra wasn’t the only one who’d experienced a loss.
Forget it. If Burn wanted to stare at her and dwell, there was nothing to be done for it—at the moment. I’d figure something out, though, even if I had to talk to some of the newcomers and threaten them into flirting with him.
I scanned the intruders, looking for someone that Burn might like. He needed a girl who smiled a lot. That was a big one. No sardonic expressions or arrogant eyebrows. That was bad news. Definitely no Wyrd Bloods with sudden control issues who were constantly bossy and then defended you for no sane reason.
I took a bite of dried turkey, realizing there was a trend with this new cook, and decided to take advantage of the moment with a little prying.
“Have you noticed something off with Ryker’s magic lately?”
Burn’s chin jerked up. “Not at all. What do you mean? Why do you ask?”
“It’s overwhelming lately. You haven’t noticed?” Was this the same guy who was breaking a sweat the other day when there’d been a chill in the room? Was he going to flat-out lie? And badly?
He lifted his hand and made a pinching gesture with his fingers. “Maybe a little bit. Probably tension. He’s got a lot on his plate.”
Ryker’s plate was definitely full, I’d give him that. Except Ryker wasn’t the type to buckle. If he could stroll into Bedlam like it was a Sunday stroll, and stand against Bones, why would he start losing it now? “When I first met him, his control of magic was super tight. I could feel the individual threads of it moving exactly as he wanted them to. It’s crazy that he’d lose that much control in such a short time. Do you think he’s sick?”
Full Blood (Wyrd Blood Book 2) Page 8
