Defiant (Blaze Trilogy Book 1)

by H G Lynch

  I rubbed my hands over my face as if I could wipe away my feelings from my expression. I wanted to keep my feelings for Anson private, like my own special secret.

  Leo smiled, rolling his eyes. “You’d best control yourself while Lyle’s around, or he’ll have your boyfriend dropped in a deep, dark well. Or worse, Turn him himself and send him to the Academy.”

  I frowned. “But…I don’t think Anson’s suitable for the Academy. Lyle wouldn’t Turn him if he wasn’t suitable, right?”

  “Yes, yes, he’s absolutely wrong for all this,” Leo said sarcastically, waving a hand in a vague gesture. “Look, I know you don’t want to betray Anson. I get that. But you and I both know that he’s perfect for the Academy, and if I know it, Lyle knows it. You’re extremely short on time here, Poppet. Unless you come up with a plan to make Lyle think Anson is unsuitable, you’re going to have to bite the bullet and bite your boyfriend. Otherwise, you’ll go back to the Academy to be retrained, someone else will Turn Anson, and you’ll both be kept as far away from each other as possible. Personally, I don’t want to see that happen to you but it will. I’m sorry.”

  I would do anything to keep Anson safe and by my side, but I should have known that it wouldn’t be that simple. After all, there was a war going on, hidden to human eyes, and I was a part of it. If he stayed with me, Anson was going to get caught in the middle of it too.

  The next morning, I was out of bed, showered, and dressed before my alarm even went off. I didn’t even care that it was hot and sunny again outside, that in my excitement over my date last night I’d forgotten to do my Geography homework, or that Lyle was sitting at the breakfast bar with an even more sour expression on his face than usual.

  Bounding into the kitchen, I danced to the fridge, humming under my breath. Leo was nowhere to be seen, so I assumed he’d slept in and would be down to join us any minute. In the meantime, I tried to avoid eye contact with Lyle, who was sipping coffee and watching me with no small measure of annoyance as I skipped about the room happily. He had the blinds fully closed, so the kitchen was dim, but I didn’t think anything of it until he slammed his hand down on the smooth countertop and growled at me to sit down.

  Blinking in surprise, I did as I was told, my good mood slowly shrivelling under his angry glare. Swallowing a mouthful of blood, I stared at him across the counter. Lyle was often pretentious and commanding. He treated me like a clueless little kid sometimes, but he was rarely angry with me. I had the sudden irrational fear that he somehow knew why I was so happy, that he’d seen Anson and me on the porch or kissing in front of the cinema, but that was absurd. Right? I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that told me I was in serious trouble.

  Nervously, I laced my fingers together under the counter, waiting. I chewed my lip, my foot twitching on the polished wood of the kitchen floor. For a long time, Lyle just stared at me, making me increasingly uncomfortable. In the dim lighting, the planes of his face looked sharper, and his mouth was pressed into a hard line. Outside, birds chirped freely and children laughed as they skipped along the street, oblivious to the nerve-fraying tension snaking its way through our quaint house.

  I knew what Lyle was doing. He was trying to make me so anxious that I couldn’t take the silence anymore, and I’d blurt out everything in an embarrassing and stupid confession. It was like an interrogation technique—and it was working. Wires of unease bit at me, constricting my chest, but I held my tongue. I wasn’t going to give Lyle the satisfaction.

  After about five minutes, Lyle finally realised I wasn’t saying anything and gave up on the silent interrogation. He sighed sharply and leaned forward on his elbows, his dark curls falling around his face. When he spoke at last, his voice was hard and icy, stunning me with the obvious restraint he was using not to throttle me where I sat.

  “Poppy, what happened last night?” he asked.

  I struggled to control my expression. He didn’t know, he couldn’t know. He was just fishing.

  My voice was surprisingly even when I asked, “What do you mean?” My hands were starting to hurt with the force of my nails biting into my palms. “Nothing happened last night,” I lied, unsure how convincing it was.

  Lyle’s eyes narrowed. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” He shook his head furiously, making his curls fly. “Nothing happened! And you know what specifically didn’t happen? Take a guess.” He put his palms down on the countertop, leaning toward me until his face was less than eight inches from mine. When I didn’t say anything, he hissed in a low, stinging voice that hit me like a slap to the face, “You didn’t Turn Anson!”

  I swallowed, trying to find my voice and a reasonable explanation while Lyle leaned back and composed himself, grinding his teeth. Where was Leo? He should have been down by then. If he was there, I could escape the conversation, or I could have him back me up, at least. I couldn’t even hear him anywhere in the house. Where the hell was he if he wasn’t there?

  “Of course I didn’t Turn him!” I said, putting just the right amount of irritation and condescension into my voice, as if it should be obvious why I didn’t Turn Anson like I was supposed to. “I didn’t Turn him because he’s not suitable. I thought he would be, but I was wrong. It was you who told Oryn to give me more time to be sure so that…so that what happened with Nathan wouldn’t happen again.” I didn’t mean to hesitate, but I couldn’t help it. It still hurt. I stumbled over the words and over the name that caused me so much pain and had nearly cost me my position as a Recruiter.

  “Well, you were right to get me more time, because Anson isn’t who I thought he was. He’s too soft, too impulsive and disorganised. He’d never make it at the Academy…” I thought fast, seeing that Lyle didn’t look entirely convinced. I needed to give him a reason for me to stay there, even if I wasn’t targeting Anson. I needed another target.

  A grinning face flashed behind my eyes, and the words fell from my mouth before I could stop them, “But there’s another boy who’d be perfect. His name is Alistair. He’s a Goth, not a lot of friends, self-destructive.” I didn’t think that was really true. Alistair seemed too happy to try to kill himself or do serious drugs, but Lyle didn’t know that. “And I’m already close to him. Just give me a little longer and I’ll Turn him instead.” I felt bad, promising to take Alistair away from the life he knew and cruelly turning him into one of us. But if it was a choice between Turning Alistair or losing Anson, I was going to put Anson first.

  Lyle thought about it for a while, examining my face for signs of deceit, and I kept my fingers crossed behind my back.

  “Okay,” Lyle said eventually, nodding to himself. “Changing targets so late in the operation is unusual, but we don’t have much in the way of options now, do we?” I let out a sigh of relief, but it was premature because Lyle noticed it and added, in a firm voice, “But this time, I’m going to check out this Alistair to be sure we have no more mistakes. In the meantime, you’re going to stay here so I can be sure you’re not playing games with me.”

  “What?” I gaped, leaping off my chair, horrified. “But…but, I can’t stay here! I-I have school! It’ll look suspicious if I don’t show up. Anson will know something’s wrong if I don’t turn up!” He’d be so hurt if I wasn’t there. He’d think I hadn’t had a good time the night before and was avoiding him. I wanted to see him—No, I needed to see him again.

  Lyle turned his back on me to wash out his coffee mug. “I’ll write a note for your teachers, and I’m sure you can make it seem plausible to Anson. Oh, and I sent Leo on some errands, so he won’t be back until dinnertime. Just in case you were thinking of having him redo your Protections so you could sneak out. You aren’t going anywhere while the sun is up unless you want to get a nasty case of sunburn.”

  Bastard. Right then, I hated Lyle. I didn’t think I was capable of hating anyone but the Wolves, but the furious acid seeping through my veins was definitely poisonous hatred for the jackass I called a partner. I tasted metal and venom on
my tongue, and I bit down on it hard enough to draw blood.

  Lyle left after that, locking the door behind him, as if I couldn’t pick a lock, and as if I would risk burning in the bright sunlight. I had sworn I’d do anything to keep Anson safe, but Anson wasn’t in danger anymore—Alistair was. In sunlight as hot as it was outside, I wasn’t likely to reach the school before bursting into flames anyway, so I would just have to hope Lyle didn’t decide to do my job for me and Turn Alistair before Leo got home.

  Chapter Six

  ** Anson **

  Walking home from school, I had the feeling I was being watched. I kept glancing around me, but the only living creature on the street was a fat ginger cat curled on the porch of a house across the street. Shaking off the prickly feeling, I returned to my moping thoughts. Poppy hadn’t shown up to Art, and I’d been looking forward to seeing her since the minute I’d left her by her front door the previous night.

  In my mind, that date couldn’t have been better. It had been brilliant. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun simply being with another person. I couldn’t tell someone half of what had happened in the movie because all I’d been focused on was Poppy’s laugh every time I said something stupid that was meant to be funny, her bright smile in the darkness, and her small thin hand in mine, causing goosebumps to shiver up and down my arm the entire time.

  And, Dear God, the kiss! I hadn’t dared hope before the night that I might get the chance to actually kiss her. When she’d brushed my hair off my face, her eyes intense on mine, it had like the moment was made perfectly for us. Like everything else in the world had ceased to matter or exist, and all I had been able see was the rosy colour of her lips and the way her hair had blown across her face like red-gold ribbons.

  As soon as our lips had met, it was like electricity, a buzzing current had blazed through my nerves—hot and aching, even as sweet chills had claimed my body. I remembered the feeling of her fingers in my hair, her softness pressed against every inch of my front, and the almost inaudible sound she’d made as her lips had parted under mine. In that instant, it had felt like a bubble of something sweet and scorching had burst inside my chest, and it had stunned me with its force. Never in my life had I felt anything like it before, and still, I could taste the phantom sweetness of her lips.

  I had thought about kissing her on the porch when we’d reached her house, but I had been certain I couldn’t withstand another wave of that excruciating sweetness. She’d looked disappointed when I had taken her hand instead, and I had seen that as a good sign, but now I was thinking perhaps I had been wrong to leave her like that. Had I upset her?

  My mind was worrying at the problem like a dog with a bone. It didn’t help that the wind had picked up and kept trying to strangle me with my scarf. In a huff, I tucked the ends of it into my hoodie to keep it from hitting me in the face. Then I froze, listening. I could hear near-silent footsteps keeping pace with me somewhere in the trees.

  I was walking past the woods around the school, halfway home, and I was sure I saw a flash of a shadow darting between the trees as I looked up. I stopped and waited, scanning the darkened trees for the figure, but all I could see was the writhing shadows cast by the waving branches. Leaves rustled like pages of a book being rapidly flicked.

  Hesitantly, I started walking again, my eyes slyly flicking to the trees as I stepped as quietly as possible on the rough pavement. My ears strained, trying to pick up the sounds of another person lurking in the woods nearby—breathing or twigs snapping under cautious feet— but all I could hear was my accelerating heartbeat in my paranoia.

  Over my shoulder, the street was barren, even windows were curtained, so nobody was likely to see a thing if I suddenly had my throat slit by a psycho murderer. In my peripheral vision, something white flashed in the shadows of the trees, and I spun just in time to see a dark-haired figure dashing toward me.

  Before I had a chance to react, before I even recognise the person launching themselves at me, there was another, smaller figure blocking the dark-haired one. I recognised Poppy’s strawberry-blonde hair in an instant and realised a moment later that the dark-haired boy was Lyle, her brother. He looked furious, his curls tangled and windblown, and I flinched in shock as he swept a blow toward Poppy with striking speed. Thankfully, she threw up an arm and Lyle’s blow struck her forearm ineffectually.

  In the blink of an eye, Poppy aimed an elbow at her brother’s ribs, missing by bare centimetres as Lyle dodged and knocked her arm away. He had her arm braced against his chest, and he growled something in a low voice to her, but Poppy kicked a leg back and hooked Lyle’s ankle, yanking her knee up to pull Lyle off his feet. He stumbled, releasing his grip on her wrist, but caught his balance amazingly quick, just a half second before Poppy’s fist clipped his shoulder.

  Twisting, he avoided the brunt of the blow, and Poppy got too close to right her balance quickly enough. Lyle caught her arm and swept a foot around the back of her ankles, knocking her off her feet. With blinding speed, he snagged her wrist before her head hit the ground, and hauled her to her feet again. Poppy gasped and smacked him in the chest, pulling herself free of his grasp. Stunned, all I could do was watch and listen as they argued in cold, sharp voices.

  “How are you out here with the sun still up?” Lyle snarled, throwing up his arms.

  Now that I could see him closer up, he looked nothing like Poppy. His skin was a shade or two darker, and his hair was such a deep black that it seemed streaked with a metallic blue. The tight curls and straight nose hinted at foreign origins, possibly Italian. But his accent, when he spoke, was as Scottish as mine or Poppy’s. He towered over her, his wide shoulders shadowing her tiny figure, but she didn’t look the slightest bit afraid of him. She looked severely pissed off, actually.

  She tipped her chin up and met his cold glower, her hands in tight little fists at her sides, and her spine as rigid as if she were resisting the urge to hit Lyle again. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I didn’t know why he was trying to attack me, but to swing a fist at his little sister? The guy was a complete tosser. I’d like to have a swing at him myself.

  “Leo came home early and told me what you were really planning,” Poppy hissed, her expression frighteningly dark.

  Lyle laughed humourlessly, a sharp sound. “Of course he did,” he scoffed. Then his expression softened, just slightly, shaking his head. “What do you think you’re doing, Poppy? What’s really going on here?” He lowered his voice, his tone becoming almost gentle, as he said, “If this is about Nathan…”

  Poppy threw up her hands furiously, half-turning away from her brother, but her voice shook when she spoke. “Why does everyone assume this is about Nathan? This has nothing to do with him, it’s about Anson!”

  I jerked at the sound of my name, my eyes widening. Who is Nathan? An ex-boyfriend? The thought made me feel uncomfortable, ridiculous jealousy niggling at me.

  Frowning, Poppy looked as if she was avoiding meeting Lyle’s eyes until her gaze flickered to me, and I realised she’d just been trying to get the nerve to meet my eyes. There was a pain on her face that I couldn’t understand.

  She turned abruptly back to Lyle. “I told you Anson wasn’t who I thought he was. Why couldn’t you just leave it at that? Lyle, I’m begging you, let this one go.”

  Lyle sighed and shook his head, his curls brushing his shoulders. “We both know what your problem is, Poppy. I can’t believe you’ve done it again, especially after last time, but I’m giving you one more chance. Fix this, Poppy, or I will.” He turned on his heel and strode away into the trees, vanishing into the shadows as quickly as he’d appeared.

  For a long moment, Poppy just stood there, staring after him, and then she bowed her head. I thought she was crying, but when I walked up behind her and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, she turned to me with eyes bright with anger, not tears. Then her shoulders slumped, and she threw her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest. Ta
ken by surprise, I cautiously wrapped my arms around her slight body. Her soft hair tickled my collarbone, and goosebumps rose all over my body. Tucking her head under my chin, I closed my eyes, absorbing the feeling of her slender arms holding me tightly.

  “Anson,” she whispered.

  My name on her tongue gave me shivers. She pulled back to look me in the eye, her cheeks streaked with lines of glistening tears. I raised my hand to wipe them away gently with my thumb. Her eyelids fluttered closed at my touch, and she leaned her face into my hand. Her lashes formed dark crescents against her pale skin.

  “I’m so sorry about Lyle. I didn’t know he was going to—” She bit her lip abruptly, swallowed and stretched herself up on her toes so that she was almost at eye level with me.

  She was so, so close. I could just lean forward ever so slightly and kiss her.

  Instead, I said the first thing that came to my mind. “You weren’t in school,” I stated uselessly. I didn’t mean to sound as accusing as I did, or as hurt. “I thought maybe you…that maybe you were avoiding me…after last night. Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just—”

  “Oh, no, no! Anson, no. It wasn’t you, I swear. Last night was…” She paused, looking for the right word, her lips curling into a smile. “It was wonderful. The only thing I regret about it is only kissing you once.”

  She shook her head again, and I felt my heart stutter at her words.

  My eyes fell to her mouth, so close to mine, and I heard her breathing hitch for a moment. Her lips parted just slightly, the shape of them so soft and enticing. I could feel her breath on my mouth, and then she sighed and leaned her cheek against my neck, lacing her fingers through mine. Delicious shivers raced down my spine.