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Betrayed: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone Book Two

Page 5

by Jacklyn Daher


  Luxor waved away the smoke and huddled in the corner where an accumulation of people had gathered. She watched with horror at the brute force they used, their hardened no nonsense expressions said they didn't consider any other alternative. There was no verbal used to calm them down like in hostage situations. No, the boys didn't have a chance, they were treated as if they were game in a forest and boom, boom, boom, you're dead.

  Valencia sifted through the people, helped Luxor up, and aided her to the side of the room away from the few people who dared to defy the medics and stay around.

  "What the hell was that?" Luxor winced from the twinge on her arm.

  "Conflict," she replied grimly. "Let's walk."

  Vanilla and caramel spritz from a dispenser up above in the corner and masked the air as if she'd stepped into a bakery, making her ravaged stomach grumble even harder.

  Once the crowds had dispersed, Luxor was able to absorb the interior. There were no drapes, instead, the room was highlighted by floor to wall windows extended upwards to an open roof. It resembled a beautiful glasshouse except for the people inside were rotted plants and mouldy cupcakes.

  She pressed her hands against the glass, she didn't want to exit the confines and would have rather stayed as close to the exit door as possible. Valencia had other ideas and wordlessly exited the glazed doors leading to the familiar outside facility.

  Valencia flipped the top of her leather satchel bag and pulled out a thermos and two paper cups. "Always come prepared." She poured out the steaming coffees and took a sip of hers. "Do you know why this is called The Renaissance Centre?"

  "Who knows, it's probably some whacked-out code." Luxor lifted the cup, cradling it between both of hands and relished in the taste of real coffee.

  "Believe it or not sometimes things are just as they seem. Renaissance means rebirth in French. The truth is, this is a safe house for Nephilims, a voluntary residence they can go when they find out their true identity, a place that will help them adjust so they won't go down the path of the dark. That's what I'm trying to achieve, a way to give these children and teenagers a chance at life, one which started off unconventional."

  “Why wasn’t I able to see it sooner?”

  “You had to believe to see, and because you were adamant to remain…ignorant of everything happening around you, you weren’t able to see it.”

  “I think it was easier to believe I was crazy, than acknowledge I am what I am,” she confessed.

  “Doesn’t it feel better though? Knowing you’re not alone.”

  I feel more alone than ever.

  If Luxor were to look back and pay closer attention, she would have known something was fishy about the whole set up with her sessions, but she didn't question anything. She was oblivious and naive on a ridiculous level. In what other places would have a modernised psychologist office with a Zen garden with hidden layers within, all in a rundown area?

  Luxor turned towards Valencia, a burdening question pushed to the forefront of her mind. "So, if Nephilims aren't harmed by the outside world, there's always a chance other people in here can?"

  "Trouble resides everywhere, no matter the location. It's like high school, get a building full of teenagers and it's bound to happen." Valencia turned her attention to the frozen lake where groups were skating on top. As if to prove her point a minute later, a scuffle ensued and staff members in neon yellow vests were rectifying the situation.

  "Except light missiles don't get thrown about. So that boy could easily come and go as he pleases?" Luxor nervously hugging herself. Everywhere she turned, trouble followed and it felt as if she wasn't safe anywhere.

  "It was an illusion, that's his gift. Besides, I wouldn't worry about other people, it's recommended to be selfish here."

  She rubbed her arm but by now the markings which the missile had left all but disappeared leaving a faint scratch. Unfortunately for Luxor, she and selfish seemed to be linked, and no matter what she did or said, everybody thought of her as a self-absorbed brat. They never bothered to investigate her side of the story. If she had an outburst with Meredith it was her fault no matter if they knew her history and upbringing or not.

  "What’s truly bothering you? I care for you a great deal and only want the best," she asked gently.

  She pursed her lips as part of her question had been answered. She considered her words, but they didn't match up to her actions where she was concerned. Valencia was supposed to be her saviour and even though she started off welcoming when they'd met, ultimately towards the end the way she treated her was anything but a crazed teenager.

  "What's there to do here?" She diverted the conversation, deciding that telling Valencia about the Hunter’s disappearance and witnessing Theo and Castor entering the centre would be too much to deal with.

  Valencia brightened up. "I'm glad you asked. There is a wide range of activities ranging from entertainment, spor—" A buzzer vibrated at Valencia's hip, and flipping it up she frowned. "I have to deal with another troublemaker." She drained the rest of the coffee just as Luxor finished hers, and threw away their rubbish. She scoured the grounds and approached a boy who was on his way out of the facility. "Ace, could you show her the common room?"

  "Sure," a boy with a sleeveless T-shirt said, wrapping the cord of his earphones around his iPhone.

  Valencia gave him an appreciative tap on his shoulder and came around to face Luxor. "I'll come to get you shortly after I handle this." She jogged inside at a rapid speed across the compounds of the meadow.

  Ace gave Luxor a quick once over and let a hmmm sound. "So, you're the newbie. I can work with that. I'm at your service," he said with a thick American accent, holding out a hand and bowed mockingly.

  She tucked her hands behind her back forcing herself not to reply. She looked around the place, why out of everybody was a nut job allocated to her.

  “Are you mute?”

  Ace raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "My sister is deaf so don't be a silent talker and use those hands. I won't take any excuses for your snobbiness," he stated boldly, with a lopsided grin.

  What the what?

  Luxor was sure her mouth was nailed to the ground, an invitation for flies to come and nest. She dug her runners into the grass and refused to move.

  "You ready for the tour Buttercup?" Ace asked clapping his hands enthusiastically as if he didn't just insult her twice in the space of ten seconds. He didn't bother with a reply, instead he swaggered away with a confidence.

  The Renaissance Centre was a daunting place to be in and if she was told the real nature of it, this wouldn't be her expectation. She would have had the image that everything would be like the typical nut house room; stark and sterile where if the confinement didn't drive a person crazy, the sheer monotony of it all would. But it wasn't like that. The ambience was pristine and airy as if the darkness of the outside world had eroded and a person was breathing in freshness.

  Luxor jogged and pinched Ace on the arm to halt him. She was willing to follow him but only because Valencia seemed to trust him. Either that or she didn't care about her well-being despite her claims.

  "Ouch, that hurt. And I don't hurt easy." He frowned and rubbed his arm. "File those nails you could do serious damage."

  She narrowed her eyes. "You shouldn't be a jerk, that's just asking for it."

  Ace regarded her suspiciously, then let out a melodious laugh. "Not a mute, that makes things easier.” He chuckled. “You're a feisty little firecracker for a new one. Did you volunteer or did they bring you in kicking and screaming?"

  "Isn't this all volunteer?"

  Ace hesitated and pursed his lips. "It was a joke," he said with a stoic expression.

  Yeah right.

  He walked around the refined facility, passing hallway after hallway of the glassed interior. He was stopped frequently by both sexes who greeted him with an infectious enthusiasm and it highlighted his popularity. Once in a while, he'd shoot Luxor a fleetin
g glance but overall, he treated her as if she didn't exist and she'd generally lagged like a lackey.

  Luxor was at the end of her tether and caught up with Ace before he ventured any further or there were any more approaches. Valencia was probably waiting for her and she had no idea where she was.

  "Can you take me to the common room?"

  Ace glanced up and leaned off the wall fiddling around with the inside of his pocket. "You don't want to know where everything is?" It was the first time he'd asked her a normal question.

  "Not really, no,” she said, adamantly." This was the one place where she wouldn't return. "Besides didn't you just give me a tour?"

  Ace tilted his head upwards. "That was a leisurely walk for being a smart ass. Don't do it again." He walked off on her until he reached fuchsia-tinted glassed arch. He rubbed his hands and licked his lips. "Can I grab lunch first?"

  Luxor had to digest his ever-changing mood, she couldn't figure him out and she didn't want to. His arrogance needed a serious dose of reality, and she wondered if he had more than one personality.

  "I'm not in the mood to eat."

  "Wasn't asking for you, hence the I. You don't know what you're missing," he said and directed his head in the direction where a hoard of people were entering.

  "Actually, I do. And since you asked, it'll be a no." She inhaled, and an infusion of food aromas tickled her nostrils and she licked her lips. "Caesar salad, scalloped potatoes, fried rice, teriyaki chicken, and beef stroganoff."

  Ace stopped suddenly, widening his blue eyes. "You smell all that?" he said in a hushed voice.

  "Don't you?" She sniffed the air again. It was extremely potent as if the food was right in front of her face, each breakdown of every ingredient.

  "I wish. You have intensified smell? Haven't met one like you, where are you from?"

  "Brighton Falls."

  He paused and shook his head solemnly. "That's horrible what happened there. Who would have thought Lucifer’s daughter released him to roam this Earth?"

  "No, she didn't." She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Here was always here, and he wanted to claim her, when she said no, he caused trouble.”

  "She should have been obliterated, from what we've heard, Luxor is worse than he is. Lucky Hunter was around before things got out of hand."

  She clenched her fists, and her fingernails dug sharply into her palms. She felt wetness, blood tickling on her fingertips. "Hunter? He's the one who caused all of this. Or partially."

  "Not according to the stories, he's the hero. Unless you were there to dispute it." He raised his eyebrows.

  "No, I was at home studying." Luxor distanced herself from Ace and passed the dining hall. The rumours that were circulating were so far-fetched she didn't want to be around in case she was exposed. "I better search for Valencia. Nice to meet you."

  "You'll get lost," Ace called out tauntingly.

  She knew he was right, the facility was massive with three stories and endless corridors with no signs. She wasn't willing to test the theory or meet others who could be crazier than he was.

  "Let's see how right you are. C'mon Buttercup I'm starved, you cut into my food time with this tour," he told her giving her puppy dog eyes and making her feel guilty.

  “No, you wasted time being a gigantic douchebag.”

  “Ouch, I apologise,” he said. “You joining me?”

  "Fine, but stop with the nickname. It's annoying." She reluctantly followed him back into the dining hall.

  "Call me Mocha if it'll make you feel any better," he said smugly and bumped her shoulder.

  Luxor rubbed her arm willing herself to calm down. soon she would never have to see him ever again. "Isn't that racist?"

  "It's only racist if it's offensive, and there's nothing wrong with being hot and delicious." He chuckled and trailed his hand up and down his body.

  Ugh, is this guy for real?

  At the back end of the dining hall, a long stainless-steel bain marie made up one side of the wall, steam floating from the extensive selection of food. At the front of each dish was a card detailing every ingredient in it. Beside them was a fridge containing a variety of milks, juices, and soft drinks.

  Ace gathered up a tray and scooped up some scalloped potatoes, a chicken burger, and bits and pieces of other foods, piling his plate up high. He beat another boy by sending him a scathing look and scoring the last table on the alfresco area.

  Luxor eyed his food jealously and joined him. "Do you have enough?"

  Ace ruffled his short cropped curly black hair and tucked a napkin on his lap. "Nope. I'm a growing boy and I love my food." He grabbed a handful of fries, putting it in his chicken burger and squeezed a hefty squirt of tomato sauce. “Although my home food ain’t got nothing on this.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “New Orleans,” he said, with in a Southern drawl.” “My lil’ sis Melody loves it here, me not so much.” He gave a side shoulder shrug. “Are you on some kind of diet? You don't need to be, you're a stick."

  "You could say that," Luxor shook the bottle of orange juice dispersing the pulp. "Aren't you intolerant, most Nephilims are?"

  "Gluten only but it's mild. I can eat it, but gives me bad indigestion." He bit into his chicken burger with gusto to prove a point. "What's your intolerance?"

  "Pretty much everything."

  "Hmmm, interesting. If you're a seven or god forbid higher, food intolerances are the least of your problems."

  "So, what's on top?" She unabashedly stole a few chips from his plate and chewed.

  Ace pushed his plate forward so they were able to share. "The higher you are, the more valuable you are. I'd rather be low on the radar than have everybody keeping a close eye on me. Talk about no privacy and being in constant danger."

  "Tell me more about it," she asked, intrigued. Unlike everybody else, Ace was very accommodating when it came to information.

  "Nope, not here."

  She let out a disgruntled huff and stuffed some more chips in her mouth. Ace was taking his time eating and she couldn't wait to leave.

  "Interesting nickname," she said making idle chit-chat.

  "It's my real name. Suits me don't you think?" he asked, and slurped from his chocolate milk.

  "I just met you."

  "I'm giving you a spoiler, I'm the number one in everything. And you are?"

  What was she supposed to tell him, the truth? He'd made it clear what everybody thought of her. Now, thanks to the trouble Hunter had constructed, everybody whether they were Nephilim, Fallen or Angel knew the name of Lucifer's daughter. It spread quicker than an STD on a call girl. But her face was a mystery nobody was able to crack, and for that she was grateful.

  "Ellie."

  "Cute name. So, tell me, Ellie, what category are you?" Ace leaned back on two legs of the chair, and clasped his hands on his midsection.

  "What do you mean?" Luxor asked. It was the first time she'd heard of categories.

  "It's like this. The stronger the hurricane the higher the category, I'm a two." He revealed his forearm, where it had the faintest of blues underneath. "The power my sire had was music, very mediocre when compared with the others."

  She tilted her lips to the side. "Sire? You are not a horse."

  "Father is too strong a word. I mean all he did was sleep with my mother. A glorified sperm donor," he spat, wiping his mouth and dumping the napkin down on the tray.

  "He could have wanted you," Luxor said. There was a time when Hunter told her about the lower class producing multiple children because they did not have to worry about their powers being diminished.

  Ace shrugged his shoulders. He picked up his tray and scrapped the remains in the bin placing the tray on top. "A bit too late now. Number?" he asked eagerly.

  "No idea, maybe I am a two as well."

  He snorted in derision. "Highly unlikely. You have a high intolerance level and enhanced smell, plus Valencia doesn't give personal tours to the lower clas
s. You come across as special, a seven I'm guessing, with an added gift. Show me your veins I'll be able to tell."

  Luxor pulled the sleeves up even further. She wished she was a seven. She wished she was a Nephilim full stop. When did the enhanced smell come in? She'd lost count of the number of gifts she was burdened with. Cane was strong in all aspects, what if she would turn out like him? What if she was worse?

  "Your loss, just trying to help," he said snarkily, his attitude back to the arrogant one.

  They left the dining hall and reached the mahogany doors of the common room which was right in the middle of the facility down the hallway from the dining room. They had passed it a couple of times, but because she didn't know what it looked like she didn't stop.

  Loud noises and laughter came through a combination of the television to groups of guys playing ping pong. Luxor watched all kinds of Nephilim's interacting with each other, they were all different but shared one common denominator. They were all the same, and she wasn't like the others.

  Ace clicked his fingers in front of her face and peered intently at her. "Buttercup, are you still in this realm?"

  She swatted away his intrusion and peeled her eyes away from the fun in the room. "How long have you been here?"

  "Too long." Ace scoped out the room, darting his head in every direction with intense precision. He stepped to the side to give her room. "I have to find Melody, I hope to see you around." And with a smirk, he bowed and left her to deal with the masses.

  Luxor buzzed Evie, and after waiting twenty minutes, Valencia still hadn’t arrived at the common room, so she found a medic. They contacted Valencia who gave the go ahead to release her.

  Once into the fresh air Luxor ran out and easily located Evie’s Jeep. She slipped in the car unnoticed as Evie had the music on to an ear-splitting level, her fingers tapping away on the steering wheel.

  Luxor turned down the music. “It’s any wonder you haven’t gone deaf yet.”

  “Give it time,” Evie smiled. “Are you ready to make it up to me with twenty-five percent.”

  Luxor frowned. “Can I confess I hate IOU’s? They are just a shitty way of holding something over someone’s head.”

 

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