Maddox returns to my side and grabs my hand. “Breathe, or you’ll pass out.” All I can do is close my eyes. The pain traveling under my skin is so bad, tears squeeze out and race down my cheeks. The pain isn’t as bad as one of my attacks, but close enough. It takes everything I have not to bawl right in front of him—or punch him, for that matter. “It’s Harper’s special mix.”
“Whatever it is, it’s pure evil.” I exhale, keeping my eyes closed as spots dance inside my eyelids.
“It hurts, I know, but I promise you’ll heal ten times faster.”
“After everything that’s happened today . . .” I open my eyes, breathe in and sputter, “I can’t believe that the thing that hurts the most . . . is a stupid can of spray that’s supposed to make me feel…better.”
“The irony.” Maddox shakes his head as his lips spread into a slight smile. “For the record, I wouldn’t have sprayed that much on you . . . just so you know,” he says with a lighthearted grin. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment. My stupid heart races a million beats per minute as that electric shock zings through me again.
I look away and stare down at the gash. Considering that every friend I’ve ever had is dead, I’d probably end up hurting him somehow too. Until I know more, it’s probably best to keep my distance. “Thanks for the warning.” The burn burrows deeper into the wound. I want to collapse on the table, but any movement feels unbearable. “How long does this take before I stop feeling like someone’s twisting a heated knife in my side?”
“A while. Sorry.” He presses a cool bandage against my cut. When his fingers brush against my skin, a small flutter swirls in my stomach.
“I’ve got it.” I choke back a wince and put my hand on the bandage, taking over. “I take it you do this a lot, fight off the birds and such.”
He shakes his head while ripping open a new gauze packet.
“You don’t randomly tackle people in the street and whack demon birds across the face? I figured that’s a norm for you.”
“Not really.” He smiles faintly. “I usually find the Awakened alone. They think no one understands what they’re going through.”
Another pain wave radiates through the cut, making my skin clammy. Don’t pass out. Deep breath in. Then exhale. I lift the oozy cloth. Oh, that’s so disgusting. My stomach turns, sloshing what’s left of that sweet cookie. Come on, Cera. Hold it together.
“Here.” Maddox hands me the clean cloth then picks up a roll of surgical tape, tearing off a piece. “Part of being a Guardian means you can spot Awakened pretty easily. I’ve been able to find them before the Cormorants do. Most of them anyway.”
“What happens to the ones you don’t find?” I tense as Maddox’s fingers softly rub the tape on my skin, outlining the bandage.
His downcast eyes hide behind those shaggy bangs as he rips another piece of tape. I wish I could take back my question because I’m pretty sure I know the answer. “So you’ve fought them before?” I backtrack. He gives a subtle nod. Is that how he got the scar? “Have you ever killed one?” He gives a small head shake, but it’s not enough to show me whether his scar matches the hook of a Cormorant’s talon. He’s done a great job keeping the gash hidden under all that hair. “How can they be destroyed? Do you know?”
“You really want to stop them, don’t you?” He shoots me a curious glance as he holds out another strip of tape, but for whatever reason, he won’t look directly into my eyes for very long.
“Of course I do. Don’t you?” I rip the tape off his finger and finish sealing my wound that’s reduced to a dull throb. Nothing I can’t handle. “After what we just experienced, who wouldn’t? That freak-of-nature killed Jess. I swear I’ll do everything I can to make sure it never hurts anyone ever again.”
“Destroying Cormorants—”
“Isn’t what a Guardian does,” a commanding voice booms through the tiny space.
A well-built quarterback of a guy stands at the top of the steps with his arms crossed and a hard look chiseled on his face. Solid muscle bulges under every part of this guy’s rich, dark skin.
Not only does his confidence make its way into the room well before he even takes a step, but he clearly wouldn’t have any problem snapping a Cormorant’s neck—or anyone else’s, for that matter. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
The guy looks at the bandages strewn all over the table. My stomach sinks. I suddenly feel as if I’ve been caught doing something terribly wrong.
“I was just patching up a few scratches, Devon.” Maddox casually tosses the medical tape back in the box before facing the combat-clad guy standing at the top of the steps. Devon looks to be about twenty-one, maybe older.
Devon glares at us. “You think you’re a Healer now? Is that it? Or were you trying to torture the poor girl? She looks downright terrified.” He glides swiftly down the steps. “Did you get her anything to eat?”
Maddox intercepts the guy before he reaches me, keeping his wounded arm behind his back. “She’s hurt—”
“Then get her a Healer.” Devon’s biceps flex as he crosses his bulky arms in front of his chest. When Maddox said Devon was the group’s Caretaker, I imagined him to be doting and rail thin. This guy is pure muscle. There’s not a single thing wimpy about him. “Cleaning up your own cuts is one thing. You know not to patch up someone else if Healers are around.”
A tightness coils inside me as Devon chews out Maddox. Before I know it, my voice cracks through my dry throat. “It was my fault.” I force myself to sit tall. “I was the one who sprayed that stuff on my cut. Maddox . . . he just tried to keep me from passing out.” Cold air brushes over my exposed stomach as I slide off the table. A sharp pain cuts through my side. I release a silent gasp but manage to suck up the pain. Maddox tries to help me down but my feet have already found the floor.
Devon’s expression softens. “You all right?”
As I stand, I don’t know whether my arms should cross in front of me, rest on my hips, or cover up my midriff. I end up holding my arms low in front of me and acting as if nothing’s wrong. I lift my chin and square my shoulders. “I’m just a little scratched up. Maddox said I should talk to you. That you know about . . . my Bent? I need you to put me with someone who can tell me how to take down those warped bird creatures.”
I must have said something wrong, because as soon as Devon frowns, Maddox throws his hands out. “Devon, listen—”
“No, you listen. First healing and now talking about destroying the beasts? You’re a Guardian. Act like one.”
“Is that a message from you? Or Gray? ’Cause you’re sounding a whole lot like him right now.” A slight edge cuts through Maddox’s voice.
Devon rests his hands on top of his head and releases a long exhale. He smells musky and earthy. “All I’m saying is that you can’t go rogue and head out alone on some crazy unauthorized mission without telling anyone. You do that and you’re asking for trouble.” Devon steps closer and pats Maddox on the shoulder. “Looks like you found it, anyhow.” He motions to Maddox’s arm. “What happened out there?”
“Nothing much.” Maddox shifts, folding his arms against his stomach. He looks relaxed, but there’s a subtle lilt in his voice. He’s lying.
Devon’s eyes flicker to the bandage on my side. “Nothing much? What were the two of you doing out there?”
“Nothing—”
“Fighting Cormorants,” I blurt. Maddox stiffens. I couldn’t care less as to why he won’t confess, but I’m tired of the lies. Ironic coming from me, I know.
Devon scowls at Maddox. “You tried killing one, didn’t you?”
“It was in defense. Only while were trying to get away, I swear.”
“Great, Maddox.” Devon paces the tiny alcove and runs his hand over his shorn hair. “You blatantly disregarded your rank. There’s no way the Alliance will overlook that—”
“They don’t need to know.” When Maddox steps away from me, coldness fills the space. Alliance? Maddox didn�
�t say anything about an Alliance.
“Oh yeah?” Devon spins around. “Then how are you going to explain your injury to Gray? He was in here earlier looking for you.”
“Thought so.” Maddox sits on the edge of the table. “I’ll deal with my brother later and take the fallout then. I’ll tell him to back off and leave you alone. But right now, Cera needs your help.” He glances my way. “What’s her Bent? I’m thinking Guardian, maybe a Blade. I can’t tell for sure.”
Devon stops and looks me over as if I’m some enigma. He’s got a strong jaw, full lips, and striking caramel eyes. “Cera, I need to confirm that you’re one of us. That okay?” He moves closer, keeping his voice soft and even. Confirm. I hate that word. After seeing it written on Mom’s sketches, that word can’t mean anything good.
“Depends.” I strain to keep my voice cool.
“Maddox, go grab her something to eat.”
Maddox doesn’t budge. “She’s an Awakened, I promise. I don’t think she knows about the Current. I didn’t get a chance to tell her.”
“What Current?” I ask.
Devon lifts his chin, studying me with a wary expression, but he must sense that I’m nervous, because he keeps his distance, the same way someone assesses an injured animal before coaxing it to safety. “It will only take a quick second or two. I just need you to look right at me. That’s all.” He taps his index finger at the corner of his eye.
“That’s it?” I ask, using the most casual tone I can muster, because I never look anyone in the eyes for long. When I do, I know better than to show any weakness. I steady myself and look him straight in the—
As I meet Devon’s eyes, a zing races through me. It’s the same feeling I had when Maddox looked directly at me while we were on the train. I’m being read like an open book. I desperately want to look away but I can’t. Devon’s eyes are soft, not prowling. He’s processing, but not judgmental.
Maddox tries to interrupt the thick silence. “I told you she was one of us—”
“Feel that?” Devon says to me, overriding Maddox’s voice. “That Current is how we recognize one another—how we know for sure you’ve been Awakened.” As if he’s extracted whatever information he wanted, he turns to Maddox. “She’s a Legacy. She might have a dual Bent. Maybe that’s why you can’t tell.”
He’s sized me up with one look? “Legacy? What does that mean?”
“Means your Bent’s been passed down from your parents,” Maddox says.
“My parents?”
Devon nods. “Recognize that feeling and remember it,” he tells me. “We’ve had a problem with some girls around here confusing that Current with something else. Especially with this one here.” Devon pats Maddox on the shoulder.
“That’s not true.” Maddox snatches his jacket off the table and slides it on as he makes his way to the back of the room. He should be taking off that bloody bandage and cleaning up the cut, not covering the wound.
“Did your parents tell you about the Current? About what it means to be Awakened?” Devon asks curiously.
“No. Maddox was the first . . .” My voice sounds weak.
Devon looks at me in disbelief. “You really don’t know about being Awakened? That’s not possible. You’ve got Legacy written all over you.” He rubs one hand over his mouth as if working something out in his mind.
“That’s what I thought at first.” Maddox takes a pencil from the tin can on the table and spins it between his fingers. “But then I thought maybe she was a new line.”
“I’m a what?”
“Which division of the Alliance are you with?” Devon ignores my question. “You’re not from the Mid-region. Are you from the Southern or Western?”
“With the what?” Devon might as well be speaking Mandarin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maddox didn’t say anything about joining some alliance.” Although he promised me a burger.
Devon shoots a disapproving glance at Maddox and says, “The Alliance is the organized group of Awakened.”
“I couldn’t explain it all earlier. We were a little busy trying to stay alive, Devon.” Maddox rips a sheet of paper from one of the sketchpads and pulls out the bench to sit down. “It’s easier if I draw it out.” As soon as he draws a loose oval in the middle of the page, his shoulders loosen. He turns the paper slightly in my direction, inviting me to come closer. “Awakened like you—like us—live all over the world.”
I stay on the opposite side of the table and inch closer as he outlines perfect continents with quick, short strokes. He didn’t have to draw an explanation, but with each pencil mark, his hands relax, brushing over the paper as if releasing the day’s crazy onto the page.
“The Global Alliance Council oversees six divisions around the world,” Devon says, making his way to Maddox. “We’re in the Northern U.S. Region, here.” Devon taps his finger on Maddox’s map, then inspects me again. I get the feeling he’s trying to figure out where I fit—if at all. “Each Region has formal training centers that operate under and report to a Region Council.”
Maddox shades the oval with short, rapid strokes. “Yeah, but Hesperian is different. We’re more of a safe house. We cultivate and strengthen our Bent through our art—the way the Alliance used to be. We’re not just focused on structured training and inflexible rules, like now.” He continues drawing. “All you really need to know about the Alliance is that each Region has different ranks, depending on the strength of your Bent.”
“Strength is secondary.” Devon’s tone is corrective. “Ranks depend solely on compliance and training.”
Maddox keeps his head down. When he stops drawing, his shoulders tense again.
I hold my hands up. “I’m not interested in structure or regions or joining any Alliance or whatever you’ve got going on here. I only want to know how to—”
“Hey there, stranger,” a girl’s raspy voice purrs through the room. At the top of the steps, a tall, gorgeous blonde with straight bangs, dramatic charcoaled eyes, and sweeping lashes leans against the wall. She’s clearly not talking to me. In her tight raglan T-shirt and even tighter jeans, she runs her finger along the wall as she parades down the steps. A perfumed rose scent smothers the air as she saunters across the room, zeroing in on Maddox. “Where’ve you been?”
“Hey, Harper.” Maddox doesn’t turn around to greet her. Instead he rips out a new sheet of paper and starts drawing something else. I raise an eyebrow. This is Harper? Figures.
Devon, on the other hand, is beaming. “Harper Grace Weatherly.” He stands tall as he moves in her direction. “You’re just what we need.”
Oh, I bet.
“Yeah?” Harper drops her chin and bats her fake lashes with a playful smile. Devon pulls out the bench near me, inviting her to sit down. Harper’s eyes flicker over me for a brief second like I’m merely another light fixture on the wall, which is fine by me. Instead of accepting Devon’s offer to sit near him, she straddles Maddox’s bench.
“Cera just came in. She has a few cuts and scrapes.” Devon’s bright smile dims as Harper runs her fingers through the back of Maddox’s hair while she watches him draw. Maddox doesn’t seem to mind the attention. He continues drawing without pulling away. Devon, on the other hand, takes a deep breath then clears his throat. “Make sure they’re cleaned up properly, will you?”
Harper narrows her smoky eyes and measures me with a full body scan. Great. Another stare down.
“I can fix that,” Harper says flatly, almost condescending. I doubt she’s talking about my wounds. She’s scowling with disgust at what’s left of my T-shirt.
“I’m fine, but thanks anyway.” There’s no way her blood-red fingernails are getting anywhere near my side or shoulder. With the look she’s giving me, she’ll probably pour a gallon of boiling alcohol all over my cuts. I get her message about Maddox loud and clear: territory marked. Not that it was even a possibility. In fact, it’s laughable that I could be a threat, especially to someone as striking a
s her.
Maddox sets the pencil down and looks at me, concerned. “Even though you sprayed it to death, you should at least let Harper make sure your cut was cleaned out.”
“You touched my stuff?” Harper reaches over and pulls the box toward her. “What’s her Bent? Is she a Healer?” Harper flips the latch and checks her inventory. “Devon, did you know about this?”
Maddox picks up his pencil and lowers his head. Under his breath he says, “She’s not a Healer. Don’t worry.”
If he thinks I didn’t see his eyebrows rise under all that shaggy hair as he made that comment, he’s sorely mistaken. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think it’s funny that I was in pain while you bandaged me up?” I want to chuck a sketchbook at him as he tucks a paper in his back pocket, but I cross my arms instead.
Maddox sits up. “What? No! I didn’t mean—”
“You tried healing her?” Harper’s eyes practically shoot fire at Maddox. “I swear—”
“Cool it. All of you.” Devon’s booming voice shuts all conversation down. “Harper, I already talked to Maddox about crossing the line, and Cera didn’t know better.”
Harper slams the lid of her medical box. “That doesn’t give them the right—”
“Check her wounds and get her a blanket or something. Maddox, come with me. We’re getting food.”
Nope. Don’t think so. There’s no way Harper is putting those flawlessly manicured hands on me. “I don’t—”
“Harper’s the best Healer in this place.” Maddox cuts off my protest as he pushes away from the table. “Let her take a look.” He says this last bit with that same protective attitude he had back on the street when we were running from the Cormorants. What about his injuries festering under that jacket?
“If that’s the case, then you should let her look at your arm first, seeing that it was sliced open and all. I’ll head out with Devon.”
Mortal Sight Page 8
