Sins of the Innocent: A Novella

by Jamie McGuire

  ALSO BY JAMIE MCGUIRE

  Providence (Providence Trilogy: Book One)

  Requiem (Providence Trilogy: Book Two)

  Eden (Providence Trilogy: Book Three)

  Beautiful Disaster

  Walking Disaster

  A Beautiful Wedding (A Beautiful Disaster Novella)

  Beautiful Oblivion (Maddox Brothers: Book One)

  Beautiful Redemption (Maddox Brothers: Book Two)

  Beautiful Sacrifice (Maddox Brothers: Book Three)

  Red Hill

  Among Monsters (A Red Hill Novella)

  Happenstance: A Novella Series

  Happenstance: A Novella Series (Part Two)

  Happenstance: A Novella Series (Part Three)

  Apolonia

  Copyright © 2015 by Jamie McGuire

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at www.jamiemcguire.com

  Cover Designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations, www.okaycreations.com

  Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  In the horror show of gods and monsters, I was the star. Conceived of my mother, a Merovingian—a direct descendant of Christ—and my father, the half-human son of a fallen angel, my very existence had prompted a battle that destroyed more angels than when Lucifer himself had been exiled from the sight of God. Before I could realize my destiny though, I was stuck in a different, very special kind of hell—high school.

  My jagged fingernails tapped against the desk in succession, listening to the drone of conversation consisting of the latest breakup, which graduation party to attend, how many withstanding virginities had gone down in flames after last weekend’s prom, and whose attempt to be memorable with experimental red carpet fashion had gone terribly awry.

  The laughter began after a short moment of shock-filled silence. Ice-cold soda soaked my arm and the side of my shirt from collar to waist.

  “Oh. Unfortunate,” Lacie said, holding an empty can.

  Per her usual, she didn’t say she was sorry. One thing I could respect about Lacie—she had no fake apologies. Everyone in the room knew she’d done it on purpose, like she’d been doing at least once a month since the seventh grade.

  I squeegeed off the dripping liquid from my skin and walked across the cafeteria to the closest restroom.

  The door slammed into the wall as I shoved through it, echoing loudly in the tiny room. After a quick check that no one was in the three stalls, I jumped straight up, quickly pushing aside one of the lightweight squares sitting in the metal grid of the suspended ceiling. I grabbed the brown paper bag, folded over at the top, in one movement before landing back on the floor without a sound.

  The sack crackled as I rummaged through the gray skirts for one of the light-blue button-downs folded crisply on the bottom. The sack also contained gray slacks and a few pair of navy tights, all in compliance with the Providence All Saints Academy’s uniform.

  “You okay, Eden?” a voice called from one of the stalls.

  I sighed. “Fine, Uncle Bex. It’s soda. You’ve risked being compromised. Is that effective?” I asked, quoting his favorite question.

  “Compromised? You didn’t even see me. And you checked.”

  Once I changed into a dry shirt, Bex pushed open the stall door, a smug expression on his face. He towered over me, as tall as my father, wearing khaki slacks and a maroon vest and tie over his light-blue oxford to blend in. Even in a Catholic school uniform, any woman would swoon over his powder-blue eyes and goofy grin, but I didn’t see it. He just seemed like a big kid to me.

  “I shouldn’t have to tell a thirty-year-old hybrid that standing on a toilet isn’t considered stealth,” I said.

  He chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning his backside against the sink. “It is when hiding from human high school kids. And I’m not thirty yet. I’m twenty-nine for just a little longer.”

  “Close enough,” I said.

  He frowned. “Since when did you start telling me what was stealthy? You’ve sure gotten pissy this year.”

  I jumped up to return the sack to its spot.

  “You went to an all-boy military school. Don’t talk to me about being pissy.”

  “It doesn’t seem that bad. I would have loved coeds.”

  I stared at him, all emotion gone from my face.

  He held up his hands. “Okay, it sucks. But it’s what you make of it. You know when she’s going to spill something on you. Why don’t you pretend to drop something and bend down to pick it up? She’ll miss every time.”

  “You think I haven’t thought of that? That’s insulting.”

  “Then change it up.”

  “I have, Bex. But if I do it every time or even most of the time …”

  He nodded. “Good point. Want me to break her throwing arm?”

  I tried to stifle a smile but failed.

  Bex leaned over to kiss the top of my head. “Taking the higher road is hard, especially when you know you could easily snap her neck. I took out a Marine once when I was eleven. He’d been giving me so much crap for weeks …” He trailed off, lost in his moment of vindication. He sobered and then stood up straight. “But I lost.”

  “Because you gave him your power by letting him influence your emotions?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And we can’t kill her. Keeping the Balance and all that.”

  Bex gave me a quick hug. “One more week,” he said before slipping out the door.

  By the time I pushed it open, he was gone. When I was young, his ability to go undetected in public places used to leave me unsettled. It only reminded me of the other things that lurked where others couldn’t see.

  That was before I knew the truth—that the Others, the inhuman dark beings hiding in the shadows, couldn’t hurt me. Nothing could. By God’s own rules, under the condition that I respected and preserved the Balance, I was to be left untouched, the exceptional child to a Holy Father who had hated me before I was born. Of the many who—willingly or not—would bow before him, I would not.

  I was born unafraid.

  “Eden!” A gangly boy jogged to my side, pushing up his glasses. “Missed you at lunch.”

  Morgan McKinstry had been trying to be my friend since moving to Rhode Island in the eighth grade. He was too asthmatic to run track, too skinny to play football, and too uncoordinated to play basketball. His wiry brown hair and round glasses reminded me of an awkward Harry Potter.

  “Hey, Morg. How’s the newspaper coming?”

  “Last and best coming up. Graduation edition,” he said, standing up a bit taller and puffing out his scrawny chest. His smile faded. “I saw what happened with Lacie. Is she ever going to get tired of that? No one even laughs anymore.”

  “Probably not,” I said, stopping at my lo
cker.

  “So, calculus test today. Did you study?”

  “Not really,” I said. It was the truth.

  I had mastered calculus in the fourth grade. Dad had been giving me graduate curriculum since my freshman year. Mom had said that high school was an experience. Not that All Saints didn’t have above average scores in academics and one of the best athletic programs in the region, but I had already learned everything they were teaching.

  All Saints was my mother’s alma mater, and she had been insistent that I realize my human side just as much as my role in the spiritual realm. I supposed it made sense. Technically, I was mostly human.

  I pulled my books from my locker and let Morgan walk me to class. Students took their seats, quiet and ready to take their tests. I appreciated that most about the student body at All Saints. All but one were respectful, almost adults—knowing when to focus and when to let loose, when to speak up and when to keep their opinions to themselves.

  As I pretended to struggle with each problem, a familiar coldness settled into my bones, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. When I was young, I’d associated it with the feeling to run, as if someone—or something—were after me. Now that I was older and understood the rules, fleeing was the furthest thought from my mind. Curiosity and a readiness to fight were my only impulses.

  I peeked over my shoulder, seeing a creature crouched and settling on the edge of a cabinet running along the back of the classroom, rustling its eagle-sized wings.

  “Eyes forward, Miss Ryel,” Brother Ramsey said.

  I turned and looked down, scribbling the rest of the steps of the problem before writing out the answer, circling it, and raising my hand.

  Brother Ramsey came to collect my test. When he turned his back, I turned around again to get a better look. The creature was watching me with its black orbs but cowered under my glare. Morgan’s desk was less than five feet ahead of jagged dirty claws, blackened skin, and a misshapen body. The entire room smelled of sulfur, an odor that used to make me nauseous, but I’d learned to appreciate the pungent warning.

  I rested my elbows on my desk and interlaced my fingers, keeping my head down and clenching my teeth. Bex wasn’t close. He’d gone somewhere. I wonder if it’d had anything to do with the creature.

  One by one, the other students turned in their exams. I usually allowed others to finish first, but with something surrounded by a long tail and talons gripping the cabinet, focus was necessary.

  Two more classes, two more finals, and then I would be free to walk across the parking lot to my white-and-black Audi R8, a gift from my Aunt Claire for my sixteenth birthday. When I opened the door, Bex would already be sitting in the passenger seat, reading Watership Down for the hundredth time.

  I closed my eyes, trying to think of anything else but what was twitching and shifting from one clawed foot to the other as it got comfortable behind Morgan. My heart beat once against my chest, pounding and rattling my rib cage, and then returned to normal for another few beats before doing it again. There was something wrong about the creature. My lungs burned when I breathed in. More than sulfur, more than the stench of death and evil, its scent confused me—not a feeling I was used to. I sensed curiosity and maybe something soft … delight? Amusement?

  The bell rang, and I watched Morgan walk away from the hideous hunched monster perched on the cabinet.

  “What?” Morgan said as he approached.

  “Nothing. Let’s go,” I said, pulling him along as I let my supernatural feelers out into the hallways.

  The only non-human beings I could pinpoint were Bex on his way back to my location and the creature Morgan and I had left behind in calculus.

  “So, I was thinking maybe we could get smoothies today,” Morgan said.

  “Not today. I’m training with my uncle.”

  “Oh, yeah. He’s a boxer or MMA fighter or something, isn’t he?”

  “No.”

  His nose wrinkled. “Oh. Really? All this time, I thought he was a professional athlete. Then why do you work out every day?”

  “Because it’s good for you. What about after dinner? I’ll pick you up.”

  “Can I drive?”

  “Sure.”

  Morgan grinned. “Sweet. I feel so bad A in your car.”

  “It doesn’t have quite the same effect when you say ‘bad A.’”

  Morgan stopped, pushing up his round glasses. “Mom doesn’t like for me to cuss.”

  I stared at him for a moment, and then I opened my locker and pulled out my next textbook. He always had the same hopeful glint in his eyes when he asked me to go places with him. Remaining close friends with a boy who thought he was in love required patience, finesse, and something I was born for—balance. Lucky for us, I was far from clumsy.

  “Would you do me a favor, Morgan?”

  “Anything.”

  “Always be my friend.”

  The light in his eyes snuffed out, but he rebounded with a smile. “No matter what.”

  I patted his arm. “Pick you up at seven, Morg.”

  He puffed out his chest a bit, looking around the congested hallway to see if anyone else had heard. “Yes, you will.”

  I turned away from him to walk to class. The creature didn’t resurface, but the scent lingered for a while before disappearing altogether. The other students didn’t seem to notice, still chatting about graduation weekend and trivial things like what they would wear under their gowns and what day they were leaving for various foreign destinations.

  “Once you finish your exam, you’re free to leave,” Brother Sheposh said. “See you at the graduation ceremony.”

  Excited whispers hissed throughout the room.

  I was glad my last class was English IV. The answers were fairly straightforward, and Brother Sheposh had been my instructor before. He knew I was familiar with the material. Without a need to pretend to take my time, I turned in my exam within fifteen minutes, nodding to Brother Sheposh as I passed his desk.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Ryel. Good luck to you in all things.”

  “Likewise, Brother Sheposh.”

  As I walked alone across the parking lot, I caught the scent again and paused. Turning in a full three-sixty, taking my time, I pulled in all my surroundings as my lungs burned, and my eyes watered. Everything came into focus—every sound, every leaf twitching in the breeze. But I sensed nothing in the trees, behind or under the cars, or even on a different plane.

  I continued walking, growing increasingly frustrated with the mystery. Thirty yards from the Audi, something dark pulled my attention over and up, like a mortal would turn toward sound. The creature, silent and still, sat on a ledge on the next building.

  I reached slowly for the handle of the Audi, waiting for the creature to attack, almost daring it to, if that was even what it had come for. But the being remained on its perch, seemingly uninterested. Almost disappointed, I yanked on the handle and fell into my seat in a huff.

  “Interesting visitor you had today. Goblins at school.” Bex mulled that over while I fastened my seat belt and pressed the ignition button.

  He looked like a giant sitting in the passenger seat of the Audi with his knees nearly level with his chest, even though the seat was back as far as it would go.

  “It wasn’t a goblin.”

  “Remember when you used to call them globins? Daddy! Globins!” He made a poor attempt at my childhood lisp.

  I rolled my eyes, glancing in the rearview mirror, before I pulled into the street. “It was another druden.”

  Bex barely acknowledged my comment, only breathing out a single laugh.

  “It was, Bex.”

  He shot me a disappointed look. “They only come out at night, Eden. You know this. Why do you keep on insisting that? What’s up with you? Is it that time of the month?”

  I craned my neck at him. “I will donkey-kick you right out of this car.”

  He chuckled and then turned away, watching Prov
idence pass by from his window.

  I tapped the clutch with my left foot and switched gears, feeding the accelerator, as I swerved into the passing lane, already making note of every vehicle on the road within a mile of us in any direction.

  I pressed a button on the door, rolling down the window to let the outside in. The mysteries of the day had me unsettled. I didn’t like the feeling of being confused. I was omnipotent, unafraid, perceptive in all things. Being able to see demons as a toddler was one thing. Being confused as a young adult was enough to send me swinging my fists into the netherworld.

  “You didn’t sense the one on the east building? It was less than four hundred yards from you on just one removed plane from ours. If he were any closer, the other students would have seen him. You didn’t?”

  “No,” he said, bored of the subject.

  “Do you think I’m messing with you, or do you just not believe me?” I asked. “Where were you earlier? If you were anywhere close, you would have sensed him for yourself.”

  “Why do you wear your seat belt?” Bex asked.

  “What?” I turned to him, my chin-length platinum locks blowing into my face.

  He looked at me. “You heard me.”

  “Because it’s the law.”

  “You wear it because it’s habit. To blend in. To make Nina feel better even though she knows you heal more quickly than a hybrid.”

  “Just get to the point, Bex,” I said, frowning until the gear slid into fourth. Then I relaxed, feeling my body surge forward, away from All Saints and close to our home, toward the one place where I could be myself.

  “The longer you keep things normal, the happier you’ll be.”

  “Speaking of happy, how long has it been? Since you’ve seen Allison?” I asked, my voice turning soft.

  He shook his head, his smug expression falling away. “An hour.”

  “She still hasn’t told anyone, has she?”

  “She won’t.”

  “Do you still miss her?” I asked.

  “Every day,” Bex said, staring out his window.

  I slowed down just long enough to pull into the drive, and then I threw the Audi into park. “Is that where you were?”