Sins of the Innocent

by Jamie McGuire

  "Hi, Grandmother," I said.

  "Eden, dear," Grandmother said, somehow looking busy, angry, and polite as usual. She was bouncing from one cook station to another. Her white hair was pulled tight into a French bun, her heels clicking on the tiled floor as her slight frame moved about the kitchen. "You're a mess."

  "The drive home was windy," I said, combing my hair with my fingers.

  "How was school?" Mom took the few steps to lean over to allow me to kiss her cheek, and then she returned to the potatoes at the sink.

  "Globins, Mommy," Bex said with an ornery grin.

  Mom arched an eyebrow but hardly seemed alarmed. It had been a long time since she worried about me. Sometimes, I missed it.

  "Where?" she asked.

  "In Calculus," I said.

  She groaned. "I hated calculus. Be thankful for all the room in that brilliant brain of yours, Eden. Brown is just around the corner."

  "Nina, dear," Grandmother said. "The leeks."

  "Oh!" Mom said, turning for the stove. "How was school? Besides the globins."

  I rolled my eyes. "It wasn't a goblin. This thing had thick gums and rows of tiny shark's teeth. I know what it was."

  "Oh?" Mom said, only mildly interested.

  "Don't roll your eyes at your mother, Eden. Honestly," Grandmother said.

  "It was a druden," I said.

  Mom stopped stirring but only for half a second. The only way I could tell if she was keeping something from me was to listen to her heart. Right now, it sounded like a hummingbird was in her chest.

  "I told her it couldn't have been, Nina," Bex said. "But she's sure of what she saw."

  "Well," Mom said, returning to her potatoes, "just because you're an immortal doesn't mean you can't be wrong."

  "Fine," I said, crossing my arms. "But if it were a druden ... what does it mean that they keep coming around?"

  She shrugged. "They're probably attracted to you, Eden. You know how this works."

  "They're coming around more often. Sometimes in groups."

  Mom made a face. "Drudens are reclusive. Don't be silly."

  "Why are they coming out during the day? They're just ... observing. Why would a druden do that?"

  "I don't understand," Mom said, exchanging a quick glance with Grandmother.

  "He was just hanging out," I said, leaning against the wall.

  "Stand up straight, dear," Grandmother snapped.

  I stood. "But he'd just been downstairs. He had a stank on him that I haven't smelled in a while."

  "Resist the slang, please," Grandmother said.

  "Downstairs?" Mom asked.

  "Hell," Bex clarified.

  Mom swallowed. "Definitely a goblin then. They typically hop back and forth."

  "It wasn't a ..." I let my arms fall. "Are we really going to do this? I'm not a child. Just tell me what it means."

  Mom looked to Bex, but he shook his head.

  "Honey, just be patient. Graduation is in a few days, and then--" She noticed my expression. "What is it?"

  My eyes widened, and an automatic smile stretched across my face just when the door flew open.

  Aunt Claire yelled from the foyer, "Edie!"

  I turned on my heels, flew through the dining room, and crashed into her. She threw her arms around me, and when we fell to the floor, she locked her legs around me, too.

  "You're home!" I said, squeezing her until her breath caught.

  "Easy!" Ryan said, laughing from the doorway. He set down two duffel bags and crossed his arms. "I don't want to be nursing broken ribs all evening. Again."

  I crawled up to stand and hugged him, too, making sure to be gentle. He was a lot more fragile than Claire.

  "When did you get in?" I asked.

  "Just now," Ryan said, taking off his ball cap and pulling it down on my head, low over my eyes. "You sent us an invite, didn't you?"

  "Oh," I said, watching as Mom and Claire hugged. "It's just a high school graduation. I didn't think you'd actually come."

  "It's not just anything," Mom said.

  My milestones, both human and angelic, were all important to her, but she would emphasize the importance of celebrating my humanity. Otherwise, she'd said, how would I know what I was fighting for?

  Mom hugged Ryan tightly and then patted his cheek. "Glad you're back. First course will be served in ninety minutes."

  "Good to see you, Nigh. They let you leave the office, huh?" Ryan asked, a dimple sinking into his cheek when he smiled down at her.

  I knew he'd loved her once. He'd still look at her in a certain way but not the same as when he looked at Claire. He had an appreciation and respect for my mother. Ryan adored Claire. He'd silently celebrate every smile, every breath, every familiar mannerism, much like the way my dad worshiped my mother. That kind of love had stopped existing sometime after I was born.

  "I'm off this week," Mom said, pointing at me with a stirring spoon. "Lots of happenings going on."

  Dad appeared in the doorway, holding a sack of groceries. "Looks like a sports car convention outside!"

  "Daddy!" I said, running to him.

  He caught me, grunting a bit to prevent me from knocking him over.

  I always had a special love for my dad. Where other girls' fathers were their heroes for general reasons, mine was actually a hero. He had saved my mother and me more than once. He was stronger than anyone I knew--except for me--and he let me hug him as tightly as I wanted.

  I kissed him, and he set me on my feet.

  Mom sauntered across the room, slowly reaching her hands up his chest and interlacing her fingers behind his neck. "Hello, Mr. Ryel."

  "Mrs. Ryel," he responded with a smile, leaning down to kiss her.

  My top lip curled up. "Ick."

  "Agreed," Claire said, nodding toward the dining room. "It amazes me that you're their only child."

  "Ew. Stop," I said, shaking my head.

  She sat across from me at the long oak dining table.

  "Tell me everything," I said, settling in for as many Claire stories as she would tell.

  "You first," she said. "What the hell was a druden doing in your classroom in the mid-afternoon?"

  Mom and Dad sat on each side of me, both of them unhappy with my aunt.

  Bex stood at the head of the table, amused, his arms crossed. "C'mon, Claire."

  Claire was unfazed. "If she's got drudens coming out during the day, what else is hanging around her?"

  "Does that mean something's happening?" I asked, looking to each of my parents.

  "Claire," Dad said in a warning tone.

  Ryan sat next to her. "You should be honest. That was always the plan."

  "What else?" Claire asked, looking to her little brother.

  Bex shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's fuzzy."

  "Fuzzy?" she asked. "Aren't you supposed to be the demon whisperer? Isn't that why you're in charge of the royal spawn?"

  Mom fidgeted. "Can we not? Everyone's home. It's a special week. We have eternity for this."

  The room became quiet.

  "Okay ... what the hell is a druden?" Ryan asked.

  Mom covered her eyes. "Ryan!"

  "Nightdwellers," Claire explained. "That creepy feeling you get in the dark? Probably a druden staring at you. They're mostly satellites. They wait until you fall asleep and then wreak havoc in your subconscious," Claire explained.

  "Nightmares?" Ryan asked. When Claire confirmed, his mouth pulled to the side. "Lame."

  Dad leaned in. "Have you heard about night terrors? Toddlers awake but unconscious, huddled in a corner, screaming for their mothers. Can you imagine being that parent, trying to calm them, trying to tell them you're there, but they don't recognize you?"

  Ryan shifted in his seat.

  Dad continued, "What about sleepwalkers dying when awoken? Falling to their deaths from a balcony? Freezing to death after wandering outside in the dead of winter? Sleepwalk homicides?"

  Ryan's smirk vanished.

>   "Yeah," Dad said. "Not lame."

  Dad and Uncle Ryan always had a strained relationship, but I didn't know the true reason until Bex let it slip that Ryan had loved my mom once, too. For a long time, Dad thought Mom and Uncle Ryan were meant to be together.

  Dad reached over to touch Mom's knee, satisfied with Ryan's reaction.

  "Bex," Mom said, "don't you and Eden have work to do?"

  Bex nodded once and pointed at me. "Your mom wants me to try to kick your butt. Get outside."

  Claire stood, clapping once. "I have missed this family!"

  "You wanna take a crack at me?" I asked. "You remember what happened last time?"

  "I do," Claire said. "And I'll let you break my arm again if it means I get to throw you facedown into another mud puddle."

  Mom sighed, grinning. "Takes me back."

  Claire shot her a look. "C'mon, Bex. We can gang up on her."

  "I'm in," Bex said, following his sister out the back door.

  I looked to my parents, holding out my hands. "Why do they keep trying? They haven't beaten me since I was seven."

  Dad nodded toward the open door. "Humor them."

  I sighed. "Does it ever stop?"

  "Training?" Dad asked.

  A sad expression weighed down his features. I felt like he'd just aged ten years right in front of my eyes.

  "I hope not. I hope it's all for nothing," he said.

  My eyes fell to the floor, and then I pushed out the door to the courtyard. The acre of grass was enclosed by the Grey mansion on three sides. I stood in the middle with Bex in front of me and Claire behind. A fountain along with various sculptures had once stood where I was waiting to be attacked, but we had obliterated those years ago.

  Bex crouched. I could hear Claire doing the same. They were excited, near laughter. I closed my eyes, hoping they would just give up sooner rather than later.

  Claire ran at me. She would have been a blur to most people, but I only saw the world slowing down around her. Instead of lunging toward me, she stopped a few yards away, strolling up behind me.

  I straightened my stance taken off guard by her new tactic.

  "They don't always behave like enemies," she said, gently touching my cheek. "Often, the strategy is to come softly--not to attack, but to infiltrate." She hugged me and then kissed my cheek, keeping her voice low. "The most dangerous enemies are those you love."

  Claire turned, sauntering over to her baby brother as if a tune were playing in her head, her lithe body relaxed and inconspicuous. Bex was watching my reaction with amusement, but as soon as Claire was in striking distance, the heel of her hand was against his chest, sending him across the lawn.

  He bent his knees and then kicked forward, landing on his feet. "What the hell, Claire?"

  She arched an eyebrow, smirking at her brother. "Sometimes, they'll use the ones you love."

  Bex rubbed his chest, more offended than hurt.

  "Eden," Claire said, waiting. When I didn't respond, she continued, "The lesson is ..."

  "Trust no one?" I asked.

  She pointed at me. "No one outside of family. Even your friend."

  "Morgan?" I said. "He's harmless."

  "Listen to what I'm saying, not what you want to hear. There is a thin line between enemy and friend. Even if it's unintentional, they could use someone you love to influence you. Don't let them."

  "You trusted Ryan," I said.

  "That's different. He's my Taleh," she said. "You're not me either. Your rules are different."

  "Hell can't hurt me though. This all seems like a waste of time."

  Claire frowned. "That doesn't mean they won't try. They're always thinking of loopholes, Eden. They have nothing else to do but plan for your demise. You are in their way, so you must always be on guard."

  One side of my mouth curled up. "On guard."

  Claire crouched. "Bring it, little girl. I've killed scarier things than you."

  "You haven't been home in a year," I said. "You haven't seen scary."

  Bex rubbed his shoulder, sore from training the day before. I smirked as I walked across the school parking lot. Claire had been up half the night, nursing a broken wrist.

  "Oh, don't look at me like that," I said. "She's already healing, and you told me not to hold back."

  "You still held back."

  "I know."

  A river of students converged as they climbed the concrete steps and passed through the threshold of the school entrance. I paused, glancing over my shoulder.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My fingers twitchy, my muscles were ready to react. I'd felt a presence for nearly a year, so much that it was becoming familiar, even though I couldn't classify it. A combination of druden, goblin, and demon, the entity was a mixture of dark and light, something formidable. Like a word on the tip of my tongue, like an escaped thought, I couldn't discern what it was.

  "What is it?" Bex asked. "Getting that feeling again?"

  I simply nodded, ignoring the tingling just beneath my skin, as I joined the other students, my light-blue collared shirt and gray skirt blending in perfectly. I was one of them, yet I couldn't be further from what they were or what they hoped to be.

  The only truth my peers knew was that I was the daughter of Nina Grey Ryel, CEO of Titan Shipping. Among the wealthy of Providence, we were in the top one percent. I was more interested in what my classmates didn't know or what they hadn't noticed over the years. I was athletic but didn't participate in sports. I was confident but not outgoing. I was friendly but had no friends. That was the way it had always been. They wouldn't know my whole truth until they knew what real terror was--to look into the face of a dragon and realize I was their only shield.

  I tried to keep that in mind--my purpose--every time Lacie not so accidentally poured her soda down my back or over my shoulder.

  My eyes pulled to the top of a locker where a Druden sat. I wasn't sure if it was the same one from yesterday, but it didn't seem too interested in me.

  "Hey, Eden!" Morgan called, walking in quick small steps to keep up with my pace.

  "What's new?" I asked, turning toward my locker.

  Morgan gripped the straps of his backpack. "Turned in the final edition. It'll be out just in time for graduation. I, um ... put in your quote."

  "Oh?" I said, barely listening, while I turned the combination and pulled up on the handle. I unloaded my books onto the shelf and then hung my bag on the center hook. "What quote is that?"

  He cleared his throat. "At the park. You know ..." He squirmed. "The day? The one about feelings."

  I arched an eyebrow. "Feelings. How did you quote me if you couldn't remember what I said?"

  He fidgeted. "'Loneliness and fear aren't real. They're not feelings, Morgan. They're only things that happen to us.' I left out the 'Morgan' part. I didn't really want everyone to know you were consoling me after being thrown headfirst into the park trash can."

  "Morgan," I said skeptical, "I said that in eighth grade."

  He shrugged. "It stuck with me."

  I hugged him, feeling his burred hair poking my cheek. When I released him, he pushed up his glasses, the splash of freckles over his nose and under his eyes moving with his skin.

  "What was that for?" he asked.

  "For remembering what I said instead of the fact that I let them throw you into the trash can."

  He waved me away. "You didn't let them. There wasn't much you could do."

  "There was, and I should have. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

  "Forgiveness isn't necessary. You can't save everyone, Eden."

  One side of my mouth curled up, and I hooked my arm with Morgan's. He walked me to class and then said good-bye. The energy in the hallway felt like an electrical storm was approaching. Students bounced while laughing and yelling in excitement. We were just two days from graduation, and it showed in the eyes of everyone I passed. Even the instructors seemed to be smiling more.

  After the last b
ell, the student body bled from the school like an open vein, branching out in different directions. It wasn't just any Friday. It was the dawn of our adult lives, our second beginning. Better than that, I managed to leave school wearing the same clothes I'd arrived in.

  "No soda spills today?" Bex asked from the backseat.

  "No," I said, not bothering to turn around.

  Paper crinkled in my uncle's hands. "Nice quote in the paper."

  "It's not mine."

  "It's not?"

  "But it is a nice quote," I said. "What is the Cimmerian doing in my car?" I asked, pressing the ignition button.

  I looked in the rearview mirror. Bex was sitting alone, but I could feel Samuel's presence.

  Bex glanced over his shoulder. When he turned to look at me in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes were darker than before. "Just drive."

  "Copy that," I said.

  Samuel was a noble among the Archs. His skin was dark and smooth like the night, and he was as enormous as he was intimidating. Cimmerians were the strongest of us all, sovereigns, and warriors, assigned to those who were marked by Hell--the humans who were born to be stalked and tormented. Samuel regularly went toe-to-toe with nightmarish creatures that most hybrids would struggle to take down.

  "She's become arrogant." Samuel's deep voice filled the car and my ears, resonating in my bones. "Sloppy."

  "As if you don't conduct yourself with authority," I snapped.

  "Eden!" Bex barked.

  I settled back into my seat, letting my emotions fall away. Those were human flaws. Anger was beneath me.

  "You are human," Samuel said. "Even after your mother's insistence to keep you humble, you've forgotten who you serve."

  "I know exactly who I serve. I'm a sacrificial lion, Samuel. I don't have to be happy about it."

  Bex glowered at me. "Show respect, Eden. Last warning."

  I gripped the steering wheel and yanked it to the left before stomping on the brakes, dragging the wheels across the gravel drive.

  The moment I slammed my door, Bex slammed his, his Nikes crunching against the rocks beneath his feet.

  "Eden," he called after me. His hand encircled my arm. "Eden! What are you talking about? Sacrificial lion? You're not making any sense."

  "Graduation is this weekend. I turned eighteen. Samuel is here. I feel a culmination, don't you?"

  Bex folded his arms across his chest. "You think your big show is coming, and we're keeping it from you? You don't really believe that."

  I bit my lip, looked away, and then glared up at him. "How's the shoulder?"

  "Stop," he said. "I'm on your side, remember? It's okay to be scared."