Defiance (12 page)
Authors: Lili St Crow
I was taking notes on how he did that.
“Hiro.” Christophe, all the warning in the world in that one simple word. “There’s no need to—”
Oh, hell no.
“I’ll say there’s a need.” It was kind of a relief to feel something other than queasy, shaky terror. Irritation felt like I had some sort of control over the situation. “What kind of
attempts
are we talking about here?”
“I’ll say there’s a need.” It was kind of a relief to feel something other than queasy, shaky terror. Irritation felt like I had some sort of control over the situation. “What kind of
attempts
are we talking about here?”
“The standard. Anything you might expect, given a
svetocha
to protect. Assassins, traps, one particularly inelegant attempt by a team of strictly human mercenaries—” There was a scraping sound, and Hiro stopped talking. Christophe’s feet hadn’t moved, but I could just see him staring down the other
djamphir
, one elegant hand closing into a fist.
svetocha
to protect. Assassins, traps, one particularly inelegant attempt by a team of strictly human mercenaries—” There was a scraping sound, and Hiro stopped talking. Christophe’s feet hadn’t moved, but I could just see him staring down the other
djamphir
, one elegant hand closing into a fist.
I hastily buttoned up my jeans and unlocked the door. My hands had stopped shaking, but I still felt a little weird. It had taken four towels to scrub myself dry, mostly because I kept seeing traces of red on me and rubbing
hard
until my skin hurt. “Wait a second—
wait
. Jesus, Christophe. Why didn’t you tell me?”
hard
until my skin hurt. “Wait a second—
wait
. Jesus, Christophe. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There was no need to worry you.” He gave me a once-over, blue eyes dark and thoughtful. “Most of them were of little account. And you are well-watched now.”
Yeah, if you’re following me even when I run with the wulfen, maybe. I guess.
Something inside me was trying to tell me to calm down. It didn’t sound like Dad’s voice, which was probably good.
Something inside me was trying to tell me to calm down. It didn’t sound like Dad’s voice, which was probably good.
I didn’t think I could stand that, even inside my own head.
Behind him, a group of older
djamphir
students were mopping up the flooded locker room. It looked like someone had set off an M80 full of red food coloring. Some of the tiles were cracked as well as discolored, and one of the tubs—the one closest the door, the one I never used—was draining. It looked like an almighty-big thing had busted out of it, breaking tile and shattering its edges, bleeding red everywhere. Another group, this one of wulfen students, had shovels and wheelbarrows and were carting Jell-O-like red tentacles out. Their faces were all set in that particular way that tells you someone’s smelling something nasty. I didn’t blame them. The thing reeked like old copper and something I’d only smelled in one or two places along the Gulf—when the sea itself starts to rot offshore and mist rolls in. A salty, decomposing reek that crawls into your clothes after a few hours and is damn hard to wash out even with hot water and borax.
djamphir
students were mopping up the flooded locker room. It looked like someone had set off an M80 full of red food coloring. Some of the tiles were cracked as well as discolored, and one of the tubs—the one closest the door, the one I never used—was draining. It looked like an almighty-big thing had busted out of it, breaking tile and shattering its edges, bleeding red everywhere. Another group, this one of wulfen students, had shovels and wheelbarrows and were carting Jell-O-like red tentacles out. Their faces were all set in that particular way that tells you someone’s smelling something nasty. I didn’t blame them. The thing reeked like old copper and something I’d only smelled in one or two places along the Gulf—when the sea itself starts to rot offshore and mist rolls in. A salty, decomposing reek that crawls into your clothes after a few hours and is damn hard to wash out even with hot water and borax.
I pinched my nose shut before I could help it. Christophe looked amused, a corner of his mouth lifting. It was better than that slightly mocking face he gave everyone else, but not by much. It wasn’t the face I would consider drawing.
I’d been too busy to draw for
ages
. I missed it, too. Sometimes my fingers would itch and tingle . . . but I was afraid of whatever I would draw now, with the touch so much stronger.
ages
. I missed it, too. Sometimes my fingers would itch and tingle . . . but I was afraid of whatever I would draw now, with the touch so much stronger.
I considered flinging the handful of wet towels I was carrying at him, decided it would be childish of me.
Benjamin was by the door, his dark emo-boy fringe—it was a popular style this year—plastered to his pale forehead. He looked okay, but anger radiated from him in colorless waves and he was splattered with the red stuff. It was all over his jeans and T-shirt. The aspect slipped through him, ruffling his wet hair and making his fangs come out and recede. They gleamed, and when he saw I was looking he straightened, self-consciously.
“I’d say this is something I should be worried about.” I started rolling up the towels together, both to hide how I was shaking again and to stop myself from actually throwing them. “So I’ve been bopping along all this time, not knowing? And people . . . things . . . whatever, have been trying to
kill
me? And you haven’t
told
me?”
kill
me? And you haven’t
told
me?”
Christophe brushed it aside, one elegant hand waving like I shouldn’t bother him with this. His watch, a chunky silver thing that looked like a Rolex, glittered. That was new—he’d never worn anything even close to jewelry before. And he hadn’t had it during sparring. “You have other things to worry about. Dealing with assassins is
my
job. It’s
traditional
.”
my
job. It’s
traditional
.”
A little voice inside my head was trying to tell me to calm down. “What’s my job, then? Being happily oblivious to things trying to kill me? Why are they even . . .” I didn’t have to go any further. I knew.
Sergej.
He wanted me dead. Christophe said he was scared of me. That was a laugh—king of the vampires, or the closest thing to a king they had anymore, scared of
me
.
He wanted me dead. Christophe said he was scared of me. That was a laugh—king of the vampires, or the closest thing to a king they had anymore, scared of
me
.
Because of what I was, or what I’d be when I finished blooming.
But I’d been thinking about it lately. A
lot
. The Real World was bigger and badder than I’d ever guessed, and I was thinking maybe it wasn’t just the vampires who would want me dead. Especially after Dad and I went on a sixteen-state odyssey of getting rid of things that go bump in the night after Gran died.
lot
. The Real World was bigger and badder than I’d ever guessed, and I was thinking maybe it wasn’t just the vampires who would want me dead. Especially after Dad and I went on a sixteen-state odyssey of getting rid of things that go bump in the night after Gran died.
Dad was bound to have made some enemies other than the king of the vampires, right? Which meant they were my enemies now. And here I was, just going along fat dumb and happy, danger lurking around every corner. If I would’ve known, I would’ve been more cautious, for Christ’s sake.
Like,
hide under my bed and cower
kind of cautious. The idea had a certain appeal right now.
hide under my bed and cower
kind of cautious. The idea had a certain appeal right now.
“We don’t just hunt the
nosferat
.” Hiro, as usual, didn’t sound like I was being stupid. He just sounded . . . thoughtful. His face was set, and I could almost see the aspect crackling around his edges, just waiting to break loose. “Although they have apparently spread word of your existence. The attempts we’re experiencing now are proof.”
nosferat
.” Hiro, as usual, didn’t sound like I was being stupid. He just sounded . . . thoughtful. His face was set, and I could almost see the aspect crackling around his edges, just waiting to break loose. “Although they have apparently spread word of your existence. The attempts we’re experiencing now are proof.”
Well, wasn’t that just peachy-keen terrific. “
Dad
kept me a secret for sixteen years.” I couldn’t help it, I was yelling by now. I jabbed an accusing finger at Christophe. “Then
you
show up, and all of a sudden everyone knows about me. Great job, Chris. Thanks.
Marvelous
work.”
Dad
kept me a secret for sixteen years.” I couldn’t help it, I was yelling by now. I jabbed an accusing finger at Christophe. “Then
you
show up, and all of a sudden everyone knows about me. Great job, Chris. Thanks.
Marvelous
work.”
It wasn’t fair, because I knew he’d had zero to do with my father’s death
or
Sergej finding out about me. But neither was it fair for him to beat on me with the sticks and look all smug.
None
of this was fair.
or
Sergej finding out about me. But neither was it fair for him to beat on me with the sticks and look all smug.
None
of this was fair.
I
hated
being left in the dark. I hated all of this.
hated
being left in the dark. I hated all of this.
Christophe tilted his head slightly, studying me. Hiro took a half step back, and I could’ve sworn he looked like he was enjoying himself. His face settled into its usual impassivity when he noticed I was staring at him, short spiky black hair beaded with drops of moisture and his gray silk beginning to droop ever so slightly from the humidity.
I dropped the towels. They hit with a wet plop that would have been funny if it hadn’t made me want to throw up. It wasn’t any fun yelling at Christophe; all he did was
look
at me that way. Like it was kind of interesting that I was losing my shit, but in the end, not very important.
look
at me that way. Like it was kind of interesting that I was losing my shit, but in the end, not very important.
That just made it worse.
Finally, after a long pause that made me feel like I was five years old and throwing a tantrum, Christophe folded his arms. His absolutely perfect face was set and white, and even though the aspect wasn’t on him I swear I saw his eyes glow.
He spoke through gritted teeth, each word a dagger. “I am sorry to have displeased you, Dru.”
There’s a certain way of apologizing that isn’t an apology. It’s more like a slap to the face. You hear a lot of that below the Mason-Dixon, especially if you hang out with the girls.
Christophe, however, could have given even the parlor princesses down there some lessons.
“That’s even worse!” I exploded. “You could at least
mean it
when you say you’re sorry!”
mean it
when you say you’re sorry!”
His eyes flared. “When have I not?” Sharply now, a teacher taking a student to task. At least I’d rattled him. That was something.
That’s the thing about irrational, boiling rage, especially right after you’ve been hunching naked in a shower, afraid for your life. Nothing anyone says will make it better. “You
never
say you’re really sorry!” I didn’t even care that I was shouting at him in front of a bunch of boys. “Ever!”
never
say you’re really sorry!” I didn’t even care that I was shouting at him in front of a bunch of boys. “Ever!”
A muscle flicked in Christophe’s cheek. That was all.
I let out a short, frustrated scream and stamped past him. It was hard to do in bare feet, and I had to splash through puddles full of ick to get to the door. At least everyone else got out of my way. The twitching bits in the wheelbarrows were enough to make me glad I hadn’t eaten lunch yet.
Benjamin’s mouth had fallen open. He looked at me like I’d grown another head or something. But he didn’t say a damn word, just hurried away from the wall and fell into step behind me as I made my grand exit, barefoot and looking totally ridiculous.
CHAPTER TEN
“Sure we knew.”
Benjamin set his tray down. “Christophe said to let you adjust, to not worry you. It seemed like a good idea when he said it. Plus, it’s trad, you know. The Kouroi do the protecting. It’s our
job
.”
Benjamin set his tray down. “Christophe said to let you adjust, to not worry you. It seemed like a good idea when he said it. Plus, it’s trad, you know. The Kouroi do the protecting. It’s our
job
.”
The cafeteria was empty since it wasn’t quite lunchtime. But that’s one of the good things about being at a Schola—when you show up in the caf, there’s
always
food. Some of the teachers keep pretty irregular hours. And
you
try being around hungry werwulfen for very long. I guarantee you’ll see the wisdom of having munchies on tap.
always
food. Some of the teachers keep pretty irregular hours. And
you
try being around hungry werwulfen for very long. I guarantee you’ll see the wisdom of having munchies on tap.
“This is
so
not cool.” My feet were cold, but that was the least of my problems. I glared at my own tray—heavy varnished wood instead of the plastic kind they’d had at the reform Schola. “When was I going to be let in on it?”
so
not cool.” My feet were cold, but that was the least of my problems. I glared at my own tray—heavy varnished wood instead of the plastic kind they’d had at the reform Schola. “When was I going to be let in on it?”
Benjamin dropped down in the chair next to me. “I guess when you let us in on your habit of sneaking out during the day instead of having us tag along all invisible-like.” But he was looking down at his plate. “Or when something happened we couldn’t hide. Like today. How did you fight that thing off, anyway? I didn’t hear a thing—that was what clued me in. It was too silent. I couldn’t even hear the water running.”
I shivered.
Great. And I thought we were so clever, getting out for a breath of fresh air.
All of a sudden the cellophane-wrapped sandwich on my tray didn’t look so appetizing, so I cracked open the blueberry yogurt smoothie and took a long drink. It went down in a slimy rush, and I thanked God it wasn’t strawberry. That would have been Too Much. “I found the spot where it was anchored to the world and hexed it right out. My grandmother . . .” I couldn’t even begin to explain.
Djamphir
combat sorceries are different than what Gran taught me, and you don’t even start dealing with them until your fourth year of schooling.
Great. And I thought we were so clever, getting out for a breath of fresh air.
All of a sudden the cellophane-wrapped sandwich on my tray didn’t look so appetizing, so I cracked open the blueberry yogurt smoothie and took a long drink. It went down in a slimy rush, and I thanked God it wasn’t strawberry. That would have been Too Much. “I found the spot where it was anchored to the world and hexed it right out. My grandmother . . .” I couldn’t even begin to explain.
Djamphir
combat sorceries are different than what Gran taught me, and you don’t even start dealing with them until your fourth year of schooling.
Great. One more thing to feel happy about. Not.
“You’re lucky.
Drbarnak
—those things—are nasty.” He arranged his knife and fork with prissy exactitude, picked up his fork, and spun some spaghetti around the tines. The pasta writhed against itself as if alive, drenched in marinara.
Drbarnak
—those things—are nasty.” He arranged his knife and fork with prissy exactitude, picked up his fork, and spun some spaghetti around the tines. The pasta writhed against itself as if alive, drenched in marinara.
I didn’t want to think about it. And if he wasn’t going to say anything else about the daylight runs, I wasn’t going to, either. I know a peace offering when I see one. “Lucky.” I tried not to laugh, half-burped, and made a weird strangled noise. “Yeah. Listen, Benjamin . . .”
“Huh?” He forked up a cartload of pasta, slurped it down. His gaze kept moving, roving over every surface in the cafeteria. He’d chosen a spot where he could see the entrances, a wall behind us, and locked doors on either side.
Knowing why he’d done that didn’t make it better. It was exactly where Dad would have chosen to sit, too. Civilians don’t think like that.
I want to get out. I want to get away.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.”
For a boy with such a prissy way of laying out his fork, he certainly ate like a bandit. He swallowed a load of spaghetti large enough to be floating the Hudson on its own barge. “Christophe won’t get mad at you, you know. You can do pretty much whatever you want. He’s, uh. You know. He’s just like that. He’s old-fashioned.”
“Old-fashioned.” I picked at the cellophane. What kind of sandwich was this? I didn’t even remember.
“Yeah. He thinks we should protect . . . You know, you shouldn’t be bothered with stuff while you’re training.”
“Stuff like people trying to kill me?” I’d put a banana on my tray, too. That, at least, didn’t remind me of anything trying to kill me.
Could
you kill someone with a banana? It didn’t seem possible. Maybe a possessed banana. I’d seen possessed pets before, but not possessed fruit. But I’ll bet it’s out there somewhere. “Or
other
stuff?”
Could
you kill someone with a banana? It didn’t seem possible. Maybe a possessed banana. I’d seen possessed pets before, but not possessed fruit. But I’ll bet it’s out there somewhere. “Or
other
stuff?”
He coughed a little, twirled more spaghetti. “Come on, Dru. Once Reynard decides about someone, he’s loyal. I never believed all those rumors about him working for his father.”
“Yeah. He’s some angel, all right.” I set the banana back down. My stomach had closed up. Now not only was I hungry and unable to eat, but I also felt like an idiot for screaming at the one person I should’ve been able to trust. Hadn’t he proved as much, over and over again?
He’d always arrived just in the nick of time. And there were the times he did things like . . .
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