Half-Born (Half-Blood Chronicles #1) (The Half-Blood Chronicles)

by Ivy Baum

  I shook my head. “Where do they come from?”

  “There are theories…but no one knows for sure. Other people won’t admit that our Dead Zones are growing. But it’s true. All you have to do is look at the rest of the world.”

  I glanced over, curious. To be honest, I hadn’t given much thought to the rest of the world.

  Deo said, “All of Europe is practically one big Dead Zone. In other places, magic is more…volatile. Unpredictable.”

  I glanced at Deo again. I felt like I knew even less about him than I did when he was still Rob Blandish. “Where are you from? Your accent—I mean, you’re obviously not from White Falls.”

  It had taken me awhile to notice his accent, which had emerged slowly.

  His smile was enigmatic. “No, I’m not from around here. As for where I’m from—well, that’s kind of complicated…”

  He trailed off as Sol came up beside him.

  Sol ignored me and spoke to Deo. “Ready?”

  Deo nodded.

  This was the final phase of the approach to Sanctuary. Now we would cautiously penetrate the Patrol Zone—a roughly ten-mile area around Sanctuary. Deo, meanwhile, would Sniff to see if anyone came after them.

  In other words, we’d be dangling ourselves like bait.

  Well, not we. I wasn’t invited.

  Sol hadn’t attempted to sugar-coat the fact that I was being left behind—at least temporarily.

  “When we’ve determined it’s safe, we’ll come back for you,” was all he would tell me.

  Now, as they prepared to leave for their first attempt, I worked up the nerve to address Sol directly. “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”

  He shoved something in his backpack. “Stay in the room. Don’t open the door to strangers and don’t blow anything up. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Once they were out the door, I slid the deadbolt in place.

  Then I approached the phone that sat atop the nightstand.

  Sol still hadn’t given me my cell phone back. But that wasn’t the only way to make a call.

  I pulled out the pre-paid calling card I’d bought the last time we stopped for gas. I’d told myself, when I made the secretive purchase, that it was just for emergencies.

  But I knew that wasn’t quite true.

  This time I’ll leave a message.

  I hadn’t spoken to my father—well, the man I thought was my father—since the day he’d walked out on us.

  That morning at breakfast, I had no idea that it would be the last time I saw him. The last time I spoke to him.

  He hadn’t seemed to know it, either.

  When had it all started to unravel?

  That sleepy Sunday morning in the Urgent Care Clinic—that was the last normal day of my life.

  We’d ended up there because my fever refused to budge, and even my mother, a seasoned nurse, was getting rattled.

  I could remember every little detail of that day. The stack of old Time magazines in the examination room, where I’d spent the better part of the morning. Laying down on the crinkly white paper when I was too weak to sit up anymore. The nurse who kept returning to draw yet another vial of blood, her face increasingly bland and her voice increasingly chipper…

  Finally, they’d admitted me to the hospital.

  When my fever broke and they sent me home, it was like the past five days had been nothing but a bad dream…

  Two weeks later, my father walked out.

  I reached for the phone, the prepaid card clutched in my other hand.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  I needed to tell him that I was his daughter—no matter what the blood tests said. But to do that, I had to tell him in person.

  He needed to see me—face to face.

  He needed to remember me.

  I thought of the money in my bank account. It was the last of everything I’d made selling my clothes, plus the refund on the Homecoming dress.

  It was enough for a plane ticket to almost anywhere.

  Including Europe.

  I knew where he was. Shortly after he left, I’d gone, incredulously, to the University of Frankfurt’s website and had found his picture there, and short biography indicating that he was a visiting professor.

  I didn’t belong here.

  When Sol first rescued me, I’d thought this would be my new family. The people who would replace my old life.

  But I didn’t belong in this life any more than I had in my old one.

  If I could just find my father, I could make things right.

  And then I’d really be able to go home. Not to my old house in Silver Oaks, or even to White Falls, but to that place I’d existed before all of this happened. The place I felt safe.

  I grabbed my backpack and shoved everything I owned—which wasn’t much, anymore—into it.

  Would they wonder where I’d gone? I considered leaving a note. But what would I say?

  Besides, they’d figure it out. They knew I was useless—worse than useless, actually.

  It was dark outside, but dawn was approaching. I slipped downstairs and went into the little check-in area on the first floor, intending to ask if there was a bus station nearby.

  The room was dim, lit only by a vintage lamp in one corner. The front desk was empty.

  “Hello?”

  I tried to peer past the front desk and into the tiny office behind it. Maybe the clerk was taking a nap in the back. But as leaned over the desk, I caught a whiff of something putrid.

  I looked down, at the floor beyond the desk.

  I saw the legs first—and then the entire body.

  The middle-aged clerk who’d checked us in earlier was sprawled across the floor—dead.

  A wave of ice-cold fear washed over me. Whoever had done this might still be here…

  Heart pounding, I grabbed the phone atop the desk, intending to call 9-1-1.

  “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

  I whirled. A figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. At first, I thought it was Sol—his dark hair and tall lanky frame were so similar. There was even an echo of Sol in his voice.

  But then the figure stepped into the light, and I saw the paler skin and gray, almost colorless, eyes.

  He smiled in a way that sent a chill through me. “Besides, I’d really rather keep this conversation just between us.”

  Chapter 21

  My adrenaline surged—and with it, my power.

  This had to be one of the Hunters Sol had warned me about.

  In my mind’s eye, I pictured aiming all my energy at him and making a run for the door.

  If you see one, run.

  Energy seemed to bubble up inside me like a spring.

  The Hunter cocked his head. “Now, now. You haven’t even let me introduce myself.”

  He snapped his fingers. Two men appeared behind him.

  “Okay, I lied. This conversation isn’t going to be completely private. But I’ve taught them not to interrupt.”

  I didn’t know what I’d expected Hunters to be like, but this guy was nothing like it. He was dressed casually, in a t-shirt and jeans, and had the attitude of someone who’d just wandered by for a chat.

  The two men who’d come in behind him didn’t look quite so relaxed. They reminded me of the men who’d attacked Sol at that party—stiff and alert.

  And now they were blocking the only exit.

  I reconsidered my plan.

  My chances of stunning all three of them long enough to escape were slim to none.

  On the other hand, if these men were truly pureblood Hunters, then they were here to kill me. Period.

  Playing nice wasn’t an option.

  I had to fight. Or at least—I had to try.

  I closed my eyes and felt myself connect with the power that had begun to flow. I remembered the sensation of letting the emptiness take over, and letting the strange energy take control.

  When I had pulled in as much as I cou
ld stand, I released it. I aimed—though that probably wasn’t the word for it—at the tall, dark-haired Hunter—the apparent leader.

  I wondered, briefly, if he would catch fire like the vending machine.

  As the energy hit, he stumbled backward, as though from an invisible blow.

  He was doubled over. I readied myself to hit him again. But when he straightened and I saw his face, my confidence faltered.

  “Well, that was an unexpected bit of fun.” He nodded at one of his men. “Why don’t you make yourself useful, Jensen.”

  Immediately, my legs felt different—like they were encased in cement. I couldn’t move them. At all.

  Jensen, meanwhile, was staring at me, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  I’d seen this before—at the party. And if Sol hadn’t been able to fight it, then I was pretty sure I had no chance.

  “Leave her arms free. I don’t want things to get too boring.”

  I glared at the lead Hunter. “Who are you?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. There was something strangely cultivated about him—almost courtly. “Not that it will mean anything to you, but I am Lukanthos, son of Atameus. Among humans and other inferiors, I go by Lucan.”

  Definitely a pureblood. “You’re a Hunter.”

  “Don’t look so censorious. I’m simply doing what comes naturally.” He performed a shallow bow. “After all, the gods are on the side of the stronger.”

  His men seemed to find this amusing.

  “So you hang out here and try to catch half-bloods on their way to Sanctuary?”

  He actually looked offended. “God forbid. You have to really piss off some elder to get stuck on Patrol Zone duty. No, I was just in the neighborhood, hoping to run into an old acquaintance.” He cocked his head. “Well, more than an acquaintance, actually. I came here looking for my brother.”

  I stared, uncomprehending.

  He smirked. “What, you don’t see the resemblance?”

  Something in that gesture—the way his lip pulled up on one side—made everything fall into place.

  I gasped. “Sol?”

  He grinned.

  “He’s your brother?”

  “Well, half-brother. If you want to get technical.”

  There was a resemblance—the dark hair, the tall, lanky frame. Even their voices were similar.

  But most of all the smile.

  “Strange to think, isn’t it? If our mother hadn’t gotten herself knocked up by a human, he’d be standing here next to me, instead of—” He frowned. “Where did he run off to?”

  I felt a chill. Was he here to kill Sol?

  He seemed to pluck the thought right out of my head. “Is it really so hard to believe that I just wanted to have a conversation with my brother?”

  He walked in a leisurely circle around me.

  I couldn’t move, but I was pretty sure I could still do magic. I didn’t need my legs for that, after all. But I needed to do it right—gather as much strength as possible, then strike.

  If I was lucky, I’d have one shot. I had to make the most of it.

  I had no illusions about escape. But maybe Deo would sense the magic I was using and they’d have some warning. Some chance to avoid the same fate.

  “I’ve been hearing rumors, you know. Strange rumors.” Lucan stopped in front of me. “Did my brother really spend six months hanging around your little backwater town waiting for you to Manifest?”

  His words caught me off-guard.

  Now that I thought about it, it was strange.

  “There were other half-bloods—”

  “The ones who died? The way I hear it, that went down pretty fast. So fast, in fact, that my dear brother missed it entirely.”

  “Rescuing new half-bloods is his job.”

  “Oh, you think my brother makes a regular practice of hanging out in high schools, waiting to see if anyone turns magical?” He smirked, and the gesture reminded me painfully of Sol. “I mean, I suppose it’s not a bad way to meet girls—if you’re into that kind of thing. Personally, I’m not interested in chasing cheerleaders.”

  I had no reply to that.

  He took a step closer. “No. He was waiting for you.”

  I felt something now—something in his presence. It was like an undertow. Insistent—and powerful. What kind of magic, I wondered, did he possess?

  He studied me in a way that felt far too intimate. “I wonder what he sees in you.”

  I flinched at those words.

  “Don’t take it personally. I simply can’t help but wonder why he went to all that trouble for a single half-blood girl.”

  That makes two of us.

  “There must be something special about you. My brother may be impulsive, but he’s not a fool.”

  Sol had told me, You’re not special.

  “I’m just like any other half-blood,” I said. And I believed it.

  Lucan cocked his head, as though studying me from a new angle. “I wonder if it lies in your Source gift. I’m not sure that I see it…Plenty of raw power, but where’s the finesse?”

  What does he want from me?

  He seemed to rouse himself from his introspection. “Well, there’ll be time to figure that out later.”

  The implication of his words hit. It was now or never.

  I opened myself up to the void inside, let the strange energy fill me up until I barely had any sense of my own self.

  This time, it was unwieldy, and when I released the power, I had no sense of where it had gone, or what would happen.

  What happened was an earthquake.

  At least, that was what it felt like. I felt, more than heard, a deep rumble. Then the ground under my feet had grown unsteady.

  Still paralyzed from the waist down, I nearly fell.

  When it stopped, Lucan gave me an appraising look.

  “Well, that’s interesting. If a bit impractical. We’ll have to see what this is all about. But not here. I don’t think I can enjoy myself when I’m surrounded by wood paneling and portraits of—who is that, Elvis?”

  One of his men muttered something.

  “Oh, right. Of course. Jesus.” He snapped his fingers at one of his men. “You’re a Striker, right? Knock her out and throw her over your shoulder.”

  The guy turned to me, looking sadistically eager.

  I struggled to move my legs, panic overtaking my knowledge that it wouldn’t do any good.

  Lucan said, “And use a light touch this time, okay? I don’t want her brain-damaged. That wouldn’t be any fun.”

  The man nodded—then his face was all business. As he raised his hands, I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for the inevitable.

  But it never came.

  When I opened my eyes, the man’s nasty smile had faded. In fact, he looked frozen.

  And then something terrible happened. All the color drained from his face, and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

  After what felt like a horrifying eternity, he collapsed, lifeless, to the floor.

  Behind him, Sol stood in the doorway.

  Chapter 22

  He wasn’t looking at me.

  He stared straight ahead, his eyes completely black.

  It made him look inhuman.

  I had asked him about his power.

  With any luck, you’ll never have to witness it.

  Now I understood. Whatever his power was, whatever he had become…

  He turned toward Lucan’s other man, Jensen, who backed away, hands thrown up defensively. Immediately, the force holding my legs melted away.

  “Now, now Sol.” Lucan sounded bored—and a little irritated. “I’ll give you a pass on Eric. Just between you and me and this awful wood-panelling, he was a mediocre Striker. But if you damage my Binder, I’ll have to respond in kind.”

  His gaze went to me.

  Sol, meanwhile, seemed to have shaken off whatever force had taken hold of him. His eyes were no longer black-within-black.

  But
there was something subtly different about him. He stood straighter, seemed to vibrate with unspent energy. As though the attack had imbued him with a new vitality…

  It was a horrifying thought.

  He said, “I’m sorry about your Striker.”

  Lucan shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to see that life in Sanctuary hasn’t completely castrated you.”

  Sol folded his arms, mirroring Lucan’s casual pose. “I’d have thought that hanging out in the Patrol Zone would be beneath you.”

  “I don’t know. This place kind of grows on, don’t you think? Kind of a sensory deprivation treatment. Besides…one finds such interesting things left behind in places like these.”

  His gaze flickered to me.

  “She wasn’t—”

  “Oh, you were planning to come back for this one? Did you forget to tell her that? Because it really looks as though she’s planning a trip without you.”

  Sol’s gaze landed on my backpack, which had dropped to the floor.

  “Sol, I—”

  Lucan ignored me. “Your women keep running away, don’t they? If I were you, I’d be concerned I was losing my touch.”

  Sol’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you here? Are things so boring in the Capitol that you’ve decided to start following me around?”

  “Boring?” Lucan’s smile widened. “I’m not the one hiding out a hundred feet underground with women and cowards.”

  Sol didn’t reply.

  Lucan took a step closer. “Except that lately you’ve been spending your time in a high school of all places. I wonder, what did you find there that was so interesting?”

  Sol scowled. “Since when are you so interested in the half-bloods I rescue?”

  “Don’t be so coy, brother. You made your entire team sit around writing essays on Brave New World and re-learning the Krebs cycle just so you could wait around for her to Manifest. I wonder why you would go to such lengths for a single half-blood?”

  Sol’s expression had grown remote. “You should know by now that I’m committed to rescuing all half-bloods. Even the incredibly stupid ones.”

  The words should have hurt. But I felt numb to them.

  “She might not even like Sanctuary. Have you considered that? She might have more fun with me.”