by Callie Rose
Xero laughed, a sound that settled in my chest and made my heart feel like it was going to explode. “Not that kind of custodian. They do what we’re here to learn how to do. They keep the human world free—or as free as possible—of the fallen.”
“They’re assholes,” Kingston said coldly. “They pick people up no matter what they’re doing or how they happened to become fallen in the first place and stick them in here. Doesn’t matter how important that person might be to the human world, either. Who were you, before?”
He was bitter. Even if his words hadn’t given it away, the taste would have. I twisted my mouth. “Just a regular student. Studying social work.”
Kingston looked appalled. “For God’s sake, why?”
I shrugged. “Something wrong with helping people?”
“No, no, of course not,” he said quickly. “It’s just… do you know how much social workers make? Nobody could live on that!”
I tossed my hair back and grinned at him defiantly. “I’ve lived on less. Speaking of which, if we’re trapped here, are they going to give us clothes?” I glanced down at what I was wearing. “These are trashed.”
“Yes,” Xero said in his gentle rumble. “Talk to Toland.”
“The headmaster?”
He nodded. “He should have given you all that information when you arrived. He’s probably busy. They double their recruitment efforts near the beginning of the school year.”
I cocked my head at him. “And where were you recruited from?”
His eyes clouded over, and he looked away. The intense connection that had been building between us was suddenly severed, leaving me to shiver in the stark, cold absence.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said in a tone that meant the conversation was over. Then he rose smoothly to his feet, glancing back down at me over his shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Piper.”
My heart broke a little as he walked away, sinking into my stomach like it’d lost the will to keep beating.
Wow, Pipes, dramatic much? You just met the guy.
I scowled at myself. People usually didn’t affect me this way. Not since middle school anyway. At some point, a girl has to grow out of the idea of love at first sight. But the feelings I was experiencing were real and strong.
Demanding.
Undeniable.
I almost ran after him, but Kingston touched my shoulder. The electric shock of his fingertips zapped through my body, rooting me to the spot.
“People around here don’t like to talk about the past much,” the elegant man said darkly. I pegged him to be in his early twenties, just like me. Maybe a year or two older. “The Custodians want us to believe that it doesn’t matter. The past is gone.”
As I was contemplating that grim statement, he jerked as if something had bit him and glanced down at his hip. “I must also leave you. Good luck, and welcome to FU.”
I huffed a laugh at the name, and he winked at me, a small smile curving his elegant lips. He seemed to think the acronym was as stupid as I did. Although… it was scarily accurate too.
Had a sudden encounter with the darkness? Well, FU, kid, you’re ours now.
I shook my head as Kingston walked away, feeling suddenly more alone than I’d ever felt in my life. It was stupid. I didn’t even know these guys, and yet my entire existence seemed to hang on their proximity.
“Maybe it’s an FU thing,” I muttered. “I wonder if Hannah’s got the same problem.”
After lingering downstairs for a while, hoping against hope that the two men would come back and, oh, I don’t know, fuck me senseless on one of the couches, I headed back up to our little corner of the castle.
I found Hannah in our room, unfolding a small pile of clothing. She granted me a brief smile as I walked in. “Hey. They sent us stuff to wear. They matched my size perfectly, and the clothes are actually pretty cute. I put your things on your bed.”
She’d given me the bed nearest the window. I didn’t think it was a generous gesture so much as an act of self-preservation; she’d scooted her bed as far into the windowless corner as she could and had moved her wardrobe and chest to create a sort of tiny cave around the iron frame. She was scared.
I unfolded the shirt on top. It was a long-sleeved tunic, warm but breathable, and it would hang down to my knees. It was black with red stitching. I instantly approved. A pair of matching leggings was in the pile as well. Most of the clothes were the same—long-sleeved tunics and comfortable leggings—but there was also a pair of thick, fur-lined pants and a heavy coat.
“Uniform?” I asked.
“Just the style.” She shrugged before holding up a baby-pink tunic. “The colors are all different though. They gave you mostly black and red. Do you think they’re trying to match our demon skin?”
“Sort of looks that way,” I said. “Do you like yours?”
“Oh, yes.” She looked down at the tunic in her hand, seeming almost surprised at the admission. “Very much.”
“Me too. Maybe they’re psychic.” I chewed my lip for a second, then added, “Um, Hannah… have you felt weird since we got here?”
“Weird? Of course I have. Weird how though?”
“Weird, like…” Oh, God, this is embarrassing. “Turned on. Buzzing with sex. Hormonal beyond puberty levels. Obsessed with things that don’t make any sense.”
Her golden eyes widened and got bigger with each word I said. She shook her head. “Umm… no. Mostly, I’ve been super cold. You think this place has central heating?”
I almost didn’t hear her question, although it was probably rhetorical anyway. I gave a noncommittal shrug and frowned at the clothes I was hanging in my wardrobe.
“Just me, then,” I murmured. “You haven’t noticed anybody in particular? I mean, did you see anybody downstairs who you absolutely had to know?”
“Oh, God no.” She shuddered. “I mean, I’m sure they’re mostly good people, just wrong place wrong time like us, but… I don’t really want to find out. Not now, anyway. I’m glad there’s a week left before school starts. I need time to wrap my head around all of this.”
Definitely just me then. Super.
I shifted uncomfortably, trying to settle the feelings ricocheting through my body. Heat was still trickling through my veins, pooling in places it had no right to be. I was high on it, completely strung out. I tried to focus on the next step.
What is the next step? Dinner?
I shook my head. My skin felt sticky. It was as if the erotic aura I’d encountered downstairs had been an actual smoke, and the residue was hanging on me.
“I’m going to shower.” I stepped away from the wardrobe. “Then we’ll go find food.”
It’s just all the changes, I decided. I’ve been violently uprooted from my life. First Colin, then the turning into a creature of the underworld thing, now the school; my subconscious is just trying to form a tribe, that’s all. The most basic primal need. Nothing to worry about.
I walked across the hall, looking forward to a long, hot shower.
Or maybe I should make it a cold one.
Chapter Six
“Ugh… I’m so nervous. I hate it.” Hannah hugged her stomach and moved a little closer to me as we walked.
“Maybe you wouldn’t be so nervous if you had talked to anybody at all this week,” I said, softening my words with a smile. “It’ll be fine. Everybody I’ve met has been pleasant, for the most part. They’re all in the same boat we are. We’re the lost boys. Er… girls. Demons? Whatever. The point is, we’re all in this together, and you’re going to be fine.”
She smiled wanly up at me. The golden tunic she’d chosen for the first day of classes brought out her eyes and contrasted gently with her light hair. She didn’t notice the appreciative glances in her direction as we walked down the hall, but I did.
“You’re going to do great,” I told her. “I know you are. Everybody likes you already.”
She shook her head, making her hair snake over her spine. “They don’t even kno
w me.”
“I don’t think that actually matters around here,” I noted as a faintly blue-skinned man spotted her and blushed purple. “Feels like everybody in this place is desperate for a tribe. For some kind of connection.”
“Maybe. But I had a tribe. Well, a family. I really hate the no-contact-with-your-old-life rule. I read that handbook cover to cover and couldn’t find a single loophole. They really, really don’t want any of us talking to our friends or relatives back home. It’s so stupid! My grandma must be wild with worry.”
I squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. I almost felt bad that I had nothing and nobody to miss. I could throw myself headlong into this new adventure and enjoy every second of it if I wanted to. Hannah’s week had been a lot rougher than mine. She’d cried herself to sleep the first three nights, curled up under the heavy blankets on her bed. Then she kind of went numb for a while. Now that classes were about to start, she was just anxious.
“Here it is. History. You ready for this?” I glanced over at her as we paused outside the small door.
She sucked in a steadying breath. “I guess.”
We took a pair of desks at the back, and I was struck all over again by the strange combination of normal school and medieval décor. Supplies had been sent up to our room—usual things like lined paper and mechanical pencils—along with two oiled leather satchels to carry them in. The desks were the usual laminated wood and metal, complete with scratched-in graffiti. But they sat in a cavernous stone chamber with long, narrow windows on one side that overlooked striking peaks in the distance.
We settled in, and I pulled out a notebook and a pen as I watched the other students shuffle in. Many of them wore the same expression as Hannah—they looked puffy-eyed and pale, anxious and miserable. Some of them were crackling with fascinated energy, and others were cautiously watching everybody else, scoping out the room. I recognized most of them from my frequent hall wandering, but couldn’t remember their names.
“This is great! Isn’t this great? History! Real history, not the history we think is history. I knew there was something missing.” The words rushed to my ears on a wave of sea-foam and sandalwood. I whipped my head around to find the source.
It was the blond guy from that first day. He was chattering at a short, dark-haired man who looked like he missed coffee more than anything else in the world as they both entered the room. The other student deliberately snubbed the blond guy, squishing through an aisle to find a solitary seat. It didn’t bother the surfer dude. He looked around, cobalt eyes sparkling, for someone else to talk to.
“Free seat over here,” I called immediately, waving at the empty seat beside me.
“Great! Awesome! Love it, perfect spot.” Enthusiasm rolled off of him as he moved to sit beside me. “Aren’t these satchels awesome? And that fucking view! I didn’t think the world could get this tall. Hi, I’m Jayce.”
Focus, Pipes, focus…
I repeated the words like a mantra in my head, but all I could focus on were his lips, and the things I wanted to do with them. I cleared my throat and shook his hand. “Piper. And this is my friend Hannah.”
Hannah offered him a weak smile.
“Awesome. I saw you guys come in.” His buoyant smile dropped for a second as concern flashed over his face. “You looked a little rough.” Then the smile broke free again, as if nothing could keep it repressed for long. “You look better now though. You good? Do you love this place?”
I laughed. “It’s all right.”
His white teeth flashed as his grin widened. “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, it’s crazy as all get out, but so fucking cool.”
He looked familiar beyond just that first meeting in the hall, but I couldn’t quite place him. Was he a model, maybe? I opened my mouth to ask him, but a sharp rapping noise from the front of the class interrupted me. All eyes dutifully turned toward the teacher. He was older, probably in his late thirties or early forties, tall and broad, very muscular. His hair was even lighter than Hannah’s, and all of it was intricately braided—even his beard. He looked like a bleached Viking.
“Welcome, first-years,” he boomed. “I’m your History teacher, Sven Karlson.”
“Of course his name is Sven,” I whispered.
Hannah stifled a giggle. Jayce grinned.
“You can call me Sven if you want. Mr. Karlson if you want. It isn’t important. What is important is that you learn everything I’m going to teach you. You think history is boring? That’s fine. This won’t be. Real history is like nothing you’ve been taught before.”
He brought out stacks of books and, just like in any school, he gave a stack to each person in the front row. I mouthed the words as he said them. “Take one and pass it back.”
Jayce seemed to melt into his seat. He had achieved some level of chill that I had never been capable of, but his eyes were still alight with interest and his fingers tapped excitedly on the desk. As soon as one of the books reached him, he flipped it open and started skimming the pages.
It was difficult for me to stay focused. Being this close to Jayce was like standing at the base of a waterfall near the ocean, and everything in me was telling me to dive in and let him drag me out to sea. When the primer was passed back to me, I clutched it like a life preserver, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand.
“Who rules the underworld?” Sven’s question hung in the air.
Someone across the room tentatively raised their hand. “Um… Satan?”
Sven shook his head, his ice-blue eyes flashing. “Satan’s power is a myth. He’s a mid-level demon. His claim to fame comes from a period in history when he was dead-set on ruling humanity. He got cocky and got caught. He didn’t have the power to enact his revenge. He was punished, and continues to be punished, by the true king of the underworld.”
Our teacher paused and turned his head slowly this way and that, making sure that every eye in the classroom was on him. Beside me, Jayce held his breath. Hannah trembled.
“Gavriel.”
It was just a word. A single, seven-letter word. But the name fell from Sven’s lips like a nuclear bomb. The room plummeted into a silence so deep it made my ears ring. Nobody breathed. The name echoed and whispered in my head, awakening instincts long forgotten. Hot adrenaline clashed with icy fear, turning me to stone. Gavriel. King of the underworld.
“Write that down,” Sven intoned, shattering the silence. “Gavriel. G-A-V-R-I-E-L. King of the underworld. Second question. What do demons want with humans?”
“To give us all makeovers,” I said. I couldn’t take it. The atmosphere was getting way too heavy in here.
Hannah elbowed me in the ribs, shaking her head as her amber eyes went wide. She had definitely not been class clown when she was in school. Straight-A student, more likely.
“I suppose you’re referring to the change,” Sven said coolly. “Flippant or not, you are somewhat correct.” He paced for a moment before turning dramatically toward the class. “The fallen who escape the underworld and make their way to earth have one purpose—to turn and recruit humans for Gavriel’s army. Each of you has narrowly escaped a fate worse than death. Had Gavriel been allowed to corrupt your minds, you would have been lost forever.”
I slid a glance to my left to see how Jayce was handling this. His eyes were alert and vibrant, but his posture still radiated chill. He seemed more intrigued than anything. Hannah, on the other hand, had gone pale and seemed to be having trouble breathing. I put a hand on hers and lifted a brow, silently asking if she was okay. She swallowed hard and shot up her hand.
“Yes, the lady in back.” Sven lifted his chin, gazing over the heads of other students at Hannah.
“What do you mean… lost?”
The blond Viking looked grim. “After spending enough time in the underworld, a fallen creature will become a monster. Wholly. Utterly. Every shred of humanity is stripped away, and they become the same as whatever attacked them, whatever turned them. Some unfortunate fallen
succumb to this fate whether they are above or below, but that is why you are here. To give you a fighting chance to resist that end.”
He offered her a soft smile and moved on. “You see, class, supernaturals and humans have come to a sort of uncomfortable agreement. You… the fallen… are more capable of fighting Gavriel’s monsters than humans themselves. You are stronger, more gifted, more resilient. Additionally, you have the capacity to understand these monsters on a level which humans never could.”
Another student raised his hand. “If any one of us has the capacity to become a true monster, why are we here? Wouldn’t it be safer for humanity if we were all just… shut away somewhere?”
Sven gave the student a long, hard look. “Do you want to be shut away?”
The guy shrugged. “I mean, not particularly, but I don’t really want to end up eating my girlfriend’s face off, either.”
Our teacher nodded. “And that is precisely why you are here. This school is a training facility for the fallen. We give you everything you need to become defenders of Earth. Those who pass will be recruited into the ranks of Custodians. Those who fail will be banished to the underworld. We cannot afford anything in between. This is why you have all been cut off from your past lives. They don’t exist anymore. Those close to you cannot be harmed by your new status if they remain in the dark about it.”
Hannah breathed a shuddering sigh, and I squeezed her hand. Dammit. That’s not fucking fair. I’d never felt so much pain on another person’s behalf before, and it startled me. I couldn’t understand why someone as sweet and good as Hannah should be cut off from the people who loved her. I couldn’t imagine her ever going full-on monster. Me, on the other hand… well, I’d just have to apply myself a little harder to my studies, that’s all.
The rest of class buzzed by, and I took notes automatically. Between my distraction over Hannah’s predicament and my increasing sensitivity to Jayce’s presence, I was barely paying attention. I figured I’d have time to pour over the primer and notes later. For the most part, it was just the history of the school, which had apparently been around forever.
