Was it strange having friends that were boys? Perhaps. But I found I quite liked it. I’d always enjoyed my brother’s company, even if he’d been beyond pious and dull as dishwater some days. Being with Nestor, Stefan, and Eren was amusing. They were always bickering, and though their propensity for fighting was slightly disturbing, the boys at the compound had been quite similar. Except here, they weren’t whipped for fighting. There was no punishment, in fact.
The long hallway was armed with the strange things I’d seen my first day, objects Nestor called suits of armor, and I stopped in front of one I liked the most. It was silver, but it was plated with gold in certain areas, and the mask looked as though it had two eye patches, which soared higher as it connected with the upper part of the helmet. It reminded me of a flame, but those flames made horns that were beyond devilish.
“They say the first Sin Eater wore that.”
Having been ignored by mostly everyone, the fact that someone was talking to me surprised me. I turned my head, and seeing one of the boys Stefan and his friends loathed, I hesitated before curiosity got the better of me. “What makes them say that?”
“The horns.” His accent was strange. Everyone had their own twang though tongues made communicating simple, but his was stronger—I liked it. It was pleasing to my ear. He was pleasing to look at too, especially when he grinned at me like he was letting me in on a joke.
“Why?” I stared at the boy who was tall, had golden blond hair, and whose skin was a pale gold from the sun. He had stubble on his chin that glittered like metal shards in the overhead lighting, and his green eyes pierced me to the quick as he stared down at me with something in those eyes I couldn’t discern.
I didn’t particularly like the way he was looking at me, but I’d seen worse things on a man’s face, so I felt no need for fright.
He reached forward and touched the point of the horn, exactly where I was, and I jolted in surprise when our fingers connected—on purpose. He purposely touched me. But when I moved back and away, Reed eyed me warily then raised his hands, and backed off, explaining, “He was mistaken for the devil, and then the Sin Eaters took to wearing them during the first millennia. Christianity has been entwined with our world ever since. The church just doesn’t really know it.”
“Why are you talking to me?” What I was really asking was why he’d tried to touch my hand.
If he was taken aback by the question, he didn’t show it. “You were looking at it and I knew something about it. We all know you’re a blank slate where our history is concerned.”
“And you thought you’d fill in some of the gaps?”
He shrugged and started to walk off.
Though I hesitated for a second, I called out, “Thank you.”
He stopped walking and turned around a few feet away so I was back in his line of sight.
“You’re Reed, aren’t you?”
“Yes. And you’re Eve.” He tilted his head to the side. “Was there an Adam waiting back at that cult for you?”
Discomfort filled me, and I wished that news of my past hadn’t filtered through the place, even if I understood the logic of sharing it. I was old. Too old to be so behind on all the classes. The students would be curious, might even make life difficult for me here, and that was why Nicholas had held a special assembly to explain things.
While I understood it, I didn’t appreciate the necessity.
“No Adam,” I retorted, “but a Bryan.” My smile was taut. “He was seventy-eight and told me that prayer would help control my souls. After we were wed, of course.”
His mouth curved with disgust. “Seriously?”
“Most seriously. Even better,” I told him, turning back so I could reach up and press a hot hand against the cool metal of the armor’s breastplate, “my parents were incredibly happy that he had picked me.”
“Why?”
The question was why was I telling him this? I didn’t really know, but there was no need not to share this kind of information with anyone. But the others hadn’t asked. Not that I blamed them.
I usually kept them occupied by having them translate the random things they said. I was determined to speak like a normal seventeen year old before the end of the year.
“Because my father had a temper. He’d beat us from time to time, and while that wasn’t an issue, he was indiscreet. The bruises would show. He was punished for that, not the beating. Every time he did it, it lowered our status in the compound.”
“And marrying the old bastard would have improved how the family appeared?”
Nodding, I murmured, “It would have done more than that.”
“Like what?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”
“Do you miss it?”
I snorted. “No.” Shooting him a look that had his mouth twitching, I retorted, “Would you?”
“No.” He hesitated. “But I’m not you, and I wasn’t stuck in my own personal hell for as long as you were.”
“True, but I was different, wasn’t I? The souls always kept me apart from everything. I never imagined that being different at the compound would save me in the outside world.”
“Did they beat you often?”
“No. I was good. I didn’t misbehave. I did everything within my power to keep under the radar,” I told him, proud at being able to use the slang words in the proper context.
“Makes sense.”
Did it? I wasn’t sure anything made sense anymore. That didn’t mean I wasn’t happy with the status quo, but if sense was what I’d been taught since I was a young girl, then Caelum was the New Order’s definition of insanity.
“Thank you for telling me about the suit of armor.”
He shrugged. “I’m a Hell Hound. Guarding Sin Eaters’ backs is what I do best.”
“Will your friend wear something like this when you graduate?” I wasn’t sure what happened then, but Eren said we policed our people and that made sense.
My question had his lips curving, and I’d be damned if it didn’t make those green eyes sparkle. “That would be like riding a horse and cart when you could take a high-speed bullet train to work.”
A high-speed bullet train?
I knew what each individual word meant so I figured it out. Sort of, but I made a mental note to Google that later.
“Meaning there are more efficient armors now?”
He nodded. “Yes. Back then, creatures didn’t trust one another. We worked alone.”
“Why?”
“This was before Caelum. Imagine being raised the way you were, except without Merry coming and saving you. Creatures learned of their abilities in an…” He winced. “I guess you could say organic manner. It was fucked up, and everyone finally got their heads out of their asses and figured out that someplace like Caelum was necessary if we were going to survive.
“That’s when souls started working together. You find most creatures now either run in Packs or in teams. Sin Eaters, for example, always work with a Hell Hound. Always. And usually a Vampire too.” He shrugged. “It’s just how it works now.”
“And having a Hell Hound and a Vampire on your side is better than a heavy suit of armor?”
Amusement made his eyes twinkle again, and his biceps bulged as he folded his arms across his chest then leaned back against the wall. “Yeah. Just wait until you go on a trial run. Then you’ll see the difference.”
“What’s a trial run?”
Reed shook his head. “Your language really is kooky, isn’t it?” When I blushed, he sighed. “A trial run is when they take you out, let you see the creatures in the flesh. They usually do that when you’re eighteen.”
“Why would they do that?” Goodness, why would I even want to do that? It sounded terrifying!
“So you can see the reason we exist, of course.”
When I frowned, he levered off the wall and murmured, “Anyway, I have to go. It was cool talking with you.”
I nodded, kind of rel
ieved when he left but mostly processing what he’d just said.
Our reason for existing.
Well, every species had one, so I supposed it made sense. It was just the first time anyone had actually mentioned it.
I worried my bottom lip with my fingers as I headed toward the Garland Room, which was named for all the moldings that ran around the ceiling. Right in the center of each wall, the moldings gathered together into a garland of flowers. It was the only old part of the room though. Everything else was modern. From the squashy leather L-seater sofas to the huge screen TVs.
When I stepped into the doorway, I hesitated for a second, seeking out Stefan. He looked stressed—his brow was puckered and his mouth was twisted in an unhappy snarl. Nestor and Eren didn’t look that much better if I were being honest.
I was used to being around angry men, but at that moment, I knew I didn’t have to go and sit with them if I didn’t want to. I could go back to my room or head for the library. I had options.
Strange then, that even though I had those options, and even though I was a little uneasy about the boys’ tempers, I still moved into the room and toward them.
When they saw me, Nestor and Eren shuffled up so I could take a seat beside Stefan. They always did that, and I never complained because he smelled the best.
He was like how good fries taste but for the nose.
Part of me wanted to eat him up, but the other part questioned how that was physically possible.
“Everything okay?” I asked cautiously as I raised my knees and curved my arms around them.
The leather was soft and comfortable, but it was even better when Stefan raised an arm and curved it around my shoulder.
I pressed my side into him, immediately feeling better and not really knowing why.
It was strange to be in a room with someone and just be content because that person was there. It was even more bewildering when that person was a stranger who you barely knew in the grand scheme of things.
God worked in mysterious ways, though, and I wasn’t about to reject this particular gift. Not when these three guys were the only ones who were talking to me on a regular basis and didn’t look at me as though I were about to develop horns.
“What day is it today?”
I was aware that to most people, to normal people, that question would indicate that Stefan was unsure if it was Monday or Tuesday. For us? The question went a whole lot deeper. Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to identify the soul in charge, but now? I was pleased to admit I could.
Clearing my throat, I murmured, “Sin Eater.” I knew because I was starving. Starving. With a capital S. I felt like I could eat a million burgers and still be hungry.
Stefan snorted. “Want to grab something to eat in the kitchen?”
“No. Not yet. I ate breakfast before my class with Merry.” I had to control myself. Back at the compound, there had only been so much food. Here? It was endless. If I didn’t want to end up rounder than the big balls some of the women used when they were training, I had to find some semblance of control.
I was already twice some of their size, and because of the clothes here, there was no hiding it.
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“What are you today?”
A grimace twisted his mouth. “Hell Hound.”
Ah, that explained his mood.
I turned to Nestor, who said, “Lorelei.”
Wow. In just that one word, I had my answer. My mouth started watering and not for fries. Squeaking, “I’d never have guessed,” my cheeks burned when the three of them chuckled.
“You’ve never been around a male Lorelei, have you?” he rasped, making everything deep inside me quiver. Things that I didn’t even know could move.
Wow.
“Well, not really. I guess they must have been around me here, but you know no one speaks to me.”
It wasn’t a complaint, and it sure as heck wasn’t one now considering the punch he packed when he spoke.
But I frowned at the other two. “You must have had a Lorelei day.”
Stefan and Eren shrugged. “We shielded you from it.”
“Why?”
“Because you weren’t ready to hear it,” Stefan reasoned.
“And I am now?” I wasn’t sure why they’d think that.
“Yes. You’re adapting to life here.”
I was? Okay, I was getting used to the day-to-day routine, but adapting was a strong word.
I barely understood what people were saying, and though I was reading through the class material as fast as Mjolnir traveled when Thor called his hammer home—the boys had a thing about Marvel movies—I was still in the dark about most things. At least, I thought I was.
Rather than argue with them because I’d seen how testy the Hell Hounds could be—I knew from my own personal experience that as a mild-mannered person, when that mood hit me, I could ram my fist into the wall—I instead questioned, “Eren? What are you today?”
“Were.” That was Eren, ever short and sweet. He didn’t say much, but he watched. Hard. Sometimes I thought I was far more interesting than the blood and guts that were always spilling in the movies they insisted on watching.
The first time? I’d sobbed at the sight. Now after two weeks of two movies a day? I was gradually getting used to seeing people’s insides.
“Why don’t you and Stefan go work out together instead of watching movies? You know you’ll both feel better.”
Stefan murmured, so close to my ear that I was grateful today wasn’t his Lorelei, “Are you trying to get rid of us?”
I gaped at him. “No. I’m trying to make you feel better.”
He smirked at me. “Don’t worry about that. Just being with you puts me at ease.”
“It does?” I half-squeaked that, biting on my lip when the others started snickering at me.
“It really does.”
“You’re surprisingly good for our moods,” Nestor stated, his tone matter-of-fact.
I’d noticed little things about all of them like that. How Nestor was usually reasonable and how Eren wouldn’t use three words if he could get away with saying two.
Mostly, I picked up on this because I let them interact around me without having much to say. Not because I wanted to stay on the outskirts of their conversation, but because I had no choice. I felt as though I was still speaking English while they conversed in tongues. It was very hard picking up on their meanings when they used so many phrases that we’d just never used back at the compound.
“Well, I’m glad I am. But I don’t think I do anything,” I admitted, not about to take credit for something I hadn’t done.
Stefan squeezed my arm. “Sometimes you don’t need to say or do anything, but being there helps.”
Because I understood that sentiment, I didn’t argue. Instead, I settled back and watched the movie on the screen. I was getting used to never watching the beginning or the end because invariably, someone called us away before the movie finished or I came into a room after it had started. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t diminish my enjoyment of the stories.
I had a feeling that would wane once I was used to the miracle that was a TV.
Still, because I wasn’t as absorbed as the rest of the room in the movie, I saw him first. He was a bit like Nestor in coloring, with olive skin and dark hair. But he was pale, a little washed out, and his cheeks were gaunt. His dark hair wasn’t as rich as Nestor’s and didn’t gleam like black silk. The clothes he wore hung on him, and there was something in his eye that had me nuzzling into Stefan.
The faint movement stirred Stefan’s attention. His gaze drifted from the movie and to me—he called it checking in on me—and when it returned to the screen, he froze when he saw the boy in the door.
When he released a kind of whooping sound, I jolted in surprise and lost my balance, tumbling into the cushions as he jumped straight up and rushed over to the boy hollering, “Alexandre!”
And even th
ough I was relieved that Alexandre was finally awake, a part of me wondered if my time with Stefan, Eren, and Nestor had just run out.
What use was a dimwitted girl when they had their friend back?
❖
Stefan
As I rushed over to my bud, I knew Nestor and Eren were at my back. But seeing Dre, I realized that he’d been through the wringer more than I’d expected.
He looked like he’d lost about ten pounds, and considering we ate as much as we did and worked out like fiends, those ten pounds would be easily regained, but it was a testament to how bad his concussion had been that he’d lost it in the first place.
His skin was pale and his hair looked like shit. The guy used so much product on that damn hair that I wasn’t sure if it looked limp because it wasn’t coated in gel or if it was further proof of how sick he’d been.
I clapped him on the back when I reached his side. “Dre, what the fuck, man? You look like you should still be in sick bay.”
Dre grunted. “You’re as bad as the nurses. I’m okay. Just tired.”
“All the more reason to stay in bed,” Eren drawled, and Dre flipped him the bird, making me grin.
“I was sick of bed. I need to get back on my feet.”
There were two reasons why he’d want to haul ass. One: because he wanted to beat the shit out of Frazer and Reed as soon as possible. Two: because it would shortly be time to go to the mainland.
Neither was an option. Not with him looking as shitty as he did.
“Why did you sleep so long?” Nestor questioned, his brow puckering. “The nurses wouldn’t tell us shit.”
“You know they won’t until we’re official,” Dre excused, running a hand over his head so he could rub the back of his neck.
Packs weren’t allowed to be selected until we hit twenty. That was three months away. The second Dre hit that big 2-0, he could declare us his Pack. Didn’t matter that we were still nineteen, that was just the way it worked here.
“That explains nothing,” Eren stated, grabbing Dre’s arm and hauling him over to the sofa. I knew why too. Dre looked like he was about to fall down.
Seven Wishes: The Caelum Academy Trilogy: Part ONE Page 11
