“Oh my god… it’s Miro Quillan—”
“Is he teaching again—?”
“Why waste time at this stupid school—”
“I heard the Adairs were back—”
“He’s still hot as hell—”
I tried to turn off my ears.
“Morning, Harold,” Quillan said. “I need to steal your new student. There’s been a change of scheduling. She’ll be doing private lessons for art.”
“New student?” The teacher looked down at his register, and then back up. “She hasn’t come in yet.”
Quillan glanced at the faces like he knew better, and when he found me in the back, his lips twitched. “Stephanie? Don’t make me wait.” His tone was deep and persuading, with a hint of humour, and my body moved instinctively.
My legs pushed me into a standing position, my hands gathered my stuff, and I was walking toward him before I’d even decided to obey him in my head. Yeesh, he was good. Heads all swung around to watch me, and Quillan said a few quiet words to the teacher that I was too mortified to hear before he walked out of the room. I followed him down a few hallways and then up about three staircases to a narrower hallway. There were names on the doors, and they seemed like faculty offices. He opened one with his name on it, and ushered me inside.
“How’d you get your name on a door so quickly?” I asked as I set my stuff down. The room was bare except for an antique-looking chaise set up against a bookshelf full of leather books, and a large desk and chair by the window.
“They never took it off, apparently. I did a teaching internship here right before we moved—I’ll admit, it didn’t really warrant an office…” He smiled at me, and then leaned back against the desk. I had no doubt that people gave him things that weren’t warranted all the time. In fact, I was almost surprised that there wasn’t a wing of the building named after him already. “Have you been ghosting to all of your classes? You know they need to mark you off for attendance, right, Seph? You can’t pretend you’re not there.”
I toed the carpet, not saying anything, and he sighed, crooking his finger at me. I moved to stand in front of him, and he lifted my chin with a gentle touch.
“No…” I finally answered. “Just that one.”
“Tough morning?”
“Noah has another ex, something about getting… about the janitor’s closet. And apparently I’m a bastardling, and this…” I pulled the note out of my pocket and shoved it at him.
He read it, confusion settling over his face for a moment, and then it cleared. “Ah.”
“Ah what?” I poked him, and he captured my finger.
“Our father…” He chewed on his lip, trying to decide how much to say. “The four of us, we have the same father, and he has… a reputation. He was married twice; his first wife was my mother, Yvonne, his second was Tabby. The rest…”
Something about the earlier conversation that I had eavesdropped on came back to me, Noah’s words echoing in my mind.
Father must be ignoring his harem again.
“I thought Noah and Cabe were only half-brothers.”
“They are. We don’t actually know who Cabe’s mother is. He was born several months after Noah. Our father realised that they were part of a pair, and he took him away from his mother and gave him to Tabby. He couldn’t have a paired child living like a bastard.” Quillan almost rolled his eyes, but the bitterness in his voice was fierce. He didn’t like his father.
“Oh… but the other students… they don’t treat you guys like that,” I pointed out, catching onto what he wasn’t saying. “They all treat you guys like you’re royalty or something.”
“That’s because our father claimed us. He’s announced that we’re his only legitimate children.”
“And… and everyone just knows this?” I was struggling with the concept. “I mean, you all obviously have a lot of money. There’s the whole apartment building, and the mountain house, and all the cars… especially Silas’s cars… is your dad some kind of celebrity?”
Quillan’s mouth dipped into a frown. “Something like that. Now sit down. I wasn’t kidding about the private lessons. We’ve got work to do.”
He turned and motioned to the chaise, so I went to sit on it. He dropped an A4 pad into my lap, and I ran my fingers over the rough canvas-like surface of the first page. He opened a sports bag that had been on his desk, and started laying out things in front of me. Art supplies.
“Pick your poison,” he said.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it,” he confirmed.
I moved off the chaise and tied my hair back into a sloppy bun on the top of my head, and then tucked my legs beneath me so that I was on my knees, leaning forward on my elbows. I reached out, snagged a pencil, and started to sketch. Quillan faded into the background and I fell into my drawing, letting it form instead of trying to manipulate it. An outline of sloping mountains appeared, jagged on the edges and covered in scrub. I reached again, not paying attention to what I grabbed, and charcoal began to blur the edges of the canvas page. I tossed the charcoal to the side, choreographing the blur with the tips of my fingers into an ominous night sky. White chalk appeared in my grip, and the moon took shape, ghostly and slightly unfocussed, like clouds were rolling over it. Stars started to twinkle, and the cold seeped into my bones. I started to tremble, but my hands were oddly steady.
The pencil was back, and I was outlining the ground, the feel of the soil beneath my feet making my toes curl.
“Where are my shoes?” I said aloud, my voice strange to my own ears.
The soil pile doubled, and a hole appeared. The trembling increased, and two hands took shape. One was holding a shovel and the other a flashlight. The white chalk returned, illuminating the glow of the flashlight to touch upon the edges of the shovel, glinting over it viciously. I flicked away the chalk and reached out again, my fingers brushing, brushing, hesitating, grabbing. Pastels. Colour seeped into everything, bringing the drawing to life.
I jerked away from the page, crawling back until I was on the chaise again, my eyes rounded and met Quillan’s. He approached me cautiously, sat on the chaise, and captured my hands in his, holding them away from his body as he pulled me so close that I could feel the beat of his heart against my back.
“Seph?”
I whimpered, my eyes flicking back to the page. “Something bad is going to happen. I have a terrible feeling.”
I looked down at my hands as the trembling subsided, and realised why he was holding them away; I was coated in charcoal and chalky pastel colours up to my elbows. I looked back to the drawing, wondering how the detail was so specific when I looked like I’d gone and rolled in it.
“This is why you took me out of class?” I asked. “So nobody else would see me like this?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?”
“I think so. This isn’t a normal ability, is it?”
“No. It’s not.”
He released me as the trembling stopped completely, and moved away from me quickly, going back to lean against the desk. I took a deep breath and stood, dusting off my hands as best I could.
“Quillan…” I took another breath, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “Why does the bond make us need contact so much?”
“It’s the way it works,” he answered cautiously. “We rely on you and you rely on us. It can take any form; physical touch, mental strength… it’s a reliance system to keep you—” he cut off, like he wasn’t sure how to continue.
“What happens when one of you gets a girlfriend?” I asked, thinking of Amber. “How are they going to feel about it? It’s not really a sustainable way to live. We all spend too much time together, and we act too close. Clarin and Tabby think it’s weird.”
For some reason, this made him pause. “Girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” I waved a hand. “I heard your rule. None of you guys want to start anything with me—you know, romantically. So what happe
ns when you find someone you do want to start something with?”
“My rule?”
“No kissing, nothing romantic.” I tapped my lip, trying to think of what else they’d agreed to.
He sighed heavily. “That was for your own good, Seraph.”
“It doesn’t matter whose good it was for. You guys made a rule, and you’re sticking to it. So what’ll happen when one of you gets a girlfriend?” The words left a bitter after-taste in my mouth, but I swallowed it down. This was important. I didn’t want to mess up their lives because of my stupid reliance on them. He had said last night that the bond was straining me. Well what if it strained me when one of them or all of them had girlfriends and they couldn’t be there for me and I stopped breathing…
“Come here.” His voice had changed, gaining a new kind of determination. I stepped up to him, and he unclipped his watch. “Give me your arm.”
I held out my arm and he slipped the watch over my hand, snapping it closed again. It was heavy, and it weighed my arm down, almost falling off. “When I want a girlfriend, or when I give a shit what Clarin or Tabby think about this, I’ll ask for my watch back. How’s that?” He looked almost amused now. “Until then, you won’t worry about it. Agreed?”
I held up my arm and looked at the watch, confused by his reaction. “Okay.”
He seemed surprised, like he had expected me to put up a fight. But what could I do? I let my arm fall back to my side. It was hard to second guess things when he seemed so sure of everything. Maybe one day I wouldn’t be able to rely on them… but maybe one day I wouldn’t need to. Maybe once the bond was formed, things would be different. Things would settle.
“Thanks, Bossman.”
He laughed. “You’re welcome, Seph. Now get to lunch.”
17
Girlfriend Insurance
The cafeteria was full by the time I arrived, and I had the urge to sneak to a corner bench somewhere and hide myself away… but I knew better. The boys would find me, so I found them instead; they were sitting in the middle of the cafeteria, like they had at the old school. Their table was otherwise empty, but the tables around them had been dragged close, and the usual popular crowd was hovering. The boys basically had a throne in the middle, which I found hilarious because I’d joked about it at the last school. Nobody even dared sit at the table with them. Maybe you had to petition them to get close.
Ha.
I focussed on the other students for a moment, noticing the subtle ways in which they differed compared to the kids at our last school. They were all exceptionally well put-together, and were dressed in expensive clothing that could have passed for casual, if you didn’t look too closely—like Noah and Cabe.
They were Zevghéri.
I approached the boys and they seemed relieved to see me. I still had the girlfriend concern in the back of my head, though, and I was aware that everyone in the school thought I was their sister, so I sat opposite them instead of between them. There was a packed lunch in my bag, and I assumed that Abe had been the one to put it in there. I started to eat, as the boys examined me, wondering things that they weren’t going to share with me. Eventually, Cabe leaned back and kicked his legs out, an easy smile lighting his face, making the whole day seem happier and brighter.
“You’re wearing Miro’s watch, little ghost,” he stated quietly enough that the surrounding tables wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop.
“It’s girlfriend insurance,” I muttered.
Noah quirked a brow. “What are you talking about?”
“He said he’d take it back when he wants to get a girlfriend, and I’m not to worry about the connection thing until then.”
They shared a look. “Fair enough,” Noah said lightly, and I saw the spark that lit up in his eye. “I think…” They shared another look, and Cabe’s smile widened. “I think you should get a piercing,” Noah said easily.
“What?” My mouth dropped, and I realised that my tone had risen to a normal level again. A few people glanced at our table, and I lowered it again. “W-why?”
Noah shrugged, but his smirk was trying to break through. “Just one.” He shot forward in a flash, his finger curling over the back of my right earlobe, at the top. “Right here.” His voice was low enough that I almost didn’t catch it. “Quillan gets to give you a watch… I get to pierce your ear. You can take it out when I want a girlfriend and not worry about the connection thing until then.”
His smile was devilish, and Cabe snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. It seemed like a terrible idea veiled thinly with the kind of sense that grappled for traction. And yet… if they each gave me something… and kept to their rules… a wave of dizziness overtook me, and I pushed down the thought of all of them getting involved with other girls, unwilling to examine it for too long. I would do this, because it seemed like the best way to move forward. An image of Silas with another girl flicked through my head and I clenched my fists on the table. Don’t think about it.
“Okay,” I mumbled. “Sure.”
“Good.” Noah smiled at me like the angel he seemed to be, and I shook my head a little bit, knowing better.
“Seph…” Cabe had his head tilted to the side, considering me just as Noah had been moments before. “Come shopping with us this afternoon.”
“Okay.” I had nothing better to do. Plus, I’d probably go anywhere with them.
“We can get your ear pierced, and then…” He trailed off as someone sat down beside him.
I turned to the girl, bracing myself. I should have been used to it by now, but something about her made me pause, and I examined her a little more closely than I had the others. She was tall, and her hair was a silky golden-blond. Her eyes were soft brown, with flecks of gold, and she was dressed to shock. Her shorts were tiny, and ripped along the pockets. Her shirt cut off at the stomach, and was paired with a streamlined black blazer, also cut off at the stomach. There was a gold chain hanging from her neck, a pendant dropping into her cleavage. She was typically beautiful, but her edge made her sexy, and a little bit frightening. Cabe was grinning at her.
“Hey there, Poison,” he said.
“Yo, cousin,” she stage-whispered, “Introduce me to your fake sister.”
Cabe laughed and Noah rolled his eyes. “Lower your voice, Poison.”
Poison flounced up from the table and walked around, sitting right beside me. Her arm dropped over my shoulder, and she propped her chin on my head.
“Awe, she’s so itty bitty and cute. Can I defile her? Pretty please?”
“No.” Noah sighed, like she was asking a legitimate question.
She pulled back and did a rapid examination of my features. “Do you speak, cupcake?”
“Sometimes,” I said.
Her lips quirked. “I know you’re not their real sister, because I’m their real cousin. Or half-sister, or… whatever. Clarin is too. He told me these two neanderthals kidnapped you and that you’re a political refuge on the run from Lord Weston. Is it true?”
“Ah…” Across the table, Cabe nodded slightly. “Yes?” I ventured.
She nodded. “Thought so. So where is your pair? He said you had a badass power, and that’s why you’re running.”
Cabe hadn’t told Clarin the truth. “They’re… I don’t know.”
“Ooh, you haven’t met them yet?”
I nodded.
“Makes sense.” She pursed her lips. “Aren’t you worried you’re gonna run out of time? How are you surviving your power without them?”
Run out of time?
“We’re helping her out as best we can,” Noah interrupted. “That’s all you need to know.”
“I see! So she can still be defiled.” Poison grinned, knocking me with her shoulder. “Come to my party tonight, cousins, bring the little flower. I’ve got big things planned for her.” She surged up and wandered off, not waiting for a response.
“I’m not supposed to tell people, right?” I asked, after she had left.
I had my doubts, because there seemed to be some pretty massive holes in the logic as far as I was concerned, but I didn’t argue. The rest of the school day passed in a panic-inducing blur. I endured girl after girl hitting on the boys, sometimes more than one girl at a time, and sometimes with both of the boys there at same time. I was pretty sure that my nerves were ready to snap by the time we piled into the Lexus to drive home. We were barely out of the parking lot when Cabe’s phone rang. He switched it to speaker.
“You’ve reached the Adair residence—”
“Cabe!” It was a girl’s voice. “It’s true, you’re really back—”
“Who’s this?”
“Tabitha.”
“I don’t know any Tabithas.” He hung up, drumming his fingers happily on the steering wheel to the tune of the song on the radio.
“Did you just say that?” I asked, curious despite myself. “Do you actually not remember her?”
Clarin looked back at me from the passenger seat. “Cabe’s a bit of a man-whore. You haven’t heard?”
I laughed, and Cabe smacked him.
“I was a man-whore,” Cabe corrected. “I’m reformed now.”
Clarin scoffed, and I felt Noah’s quiet chuckle against my hair. I was leaning lightly against him.
“So you don’t remember her?” I asked.
“I do.” He seemed to think about it for a moment. “I think… I think she… yeah. I’m positive. She had hair. And a face.”
I giggled, and slapped a hand over my mouth to curb it, but Cabe glanced in the rear-view mirror, catching me.
“Are you laughing at me, little ghost?”
I dipped forward, my hands landing on his shoulders. I felt the muscles tightening beneath my touch. “You’re a funny man-whore, Lucifer.”
His phone rang again, and he turned it on speaker. “Adair residence—”
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