The Scent (The Bryn and Sinjin Series Book 2) (8 page)

FIVE

Word of my apparent disloyalty and betrayal spread throughout the tribe in a matter of days. Because I was not allowed visitors (except Luce), I had to learn about my perceived fall from grace from the kitchen girl, Betta, who brought me my three meals a day. Although Betta was, by nature, a shy and timid girl, she seemed eager to open up to me once I asked her enough questions. I suspected that as one of our handful of human workers, who didn’t possess any magical abilities, she’d probably spent most of her twenty-some-odd years being overlooked. I found it ironic, but amusing all the same, that prior to my stay at Kinloch Kirk, I never would have given Betta, or her situation, a second glance. Funny how circumstances can change you …

But back to the subject at hand—as far as the tribe was concerned (well, according to Betta’s keen eavesdropping skills, anyway), I had been brainwashed to believe my sister’s lies, and consequently, I could no longer be trusted. Not only that, but I was also rumored to have gone far beyond the point of rehabilitation. Yep, apparently where I was concerned, there was no coming back and I was now considered a liability.

I’d basically plummeted from being a glorified warrior to an enemy of my own people. And, as such, I’d become a prisoner where I’d once ruled the roost. But what struck me as strangest about my fall from grace, was how I couldn’t find it within myself to care. The truth of the matter was that it didn’t bother me that I was the talk of the compound, or that I was considered the Anti-Christ by pretty much everyone. What once might have devastated me, now didn’t really even seem to register with me. The more I analyzed why I felt the way I did, the more I arrived at the conclusion that I no longer cared about my reputation because I no longer considered myself to be one of my tribe.

It was a thought that was freeing somehow, almost a source of relief in itself …

At the sound of a strident knock on the door, I glanced up from where I was sitting at the kitchen table. I’d been attempting to eat my turkey sandwich, which Betta had just delivered. But my lunch, if that’s what you wanted to call it, looked about as appetizing as stucco and tasted surprisingly similar.

The knock on the door sounded again, but before I could stand up to open it, or say, “Go F yourself,” the door swung open and Gus Williams showed himself in.

Gus was an Elemental and one of our more esteemed soldiers. Even though he didn’t rank as highly as I did (or had), he was a well-respected tribe member all the same. Tall and solidly built, he had square shoulders that tapered down to a slim waist. A thick jaw, narrow eyes and a wide nose didn’t exactly make him a handsome guy, not that I’d ever concerned myself with his looks before, or anyone else’s here, for that matter.

And even if you had, what man here or anywhere else could ever compete with Sinjin?
I asked myself as my shoulders drooped immediately in response. I couldn’t help but wonder what the devilishly handsome cad was up to and if he … thought of me.
What’s wrong with you?
I yelled at myself.
Sinjin is your past.

I had to force thoughts of Sinjin out of my mind because they made me strangely homesick for Kinloch Kirk—a place I’d never even called home. “Gus, what a pleasant surprise,” I grumbled before glancing down at my still uneaten sandwich. “I was just sitting down to enjoy what I suspect is tree—but whether redwood or oak, I’m not exactly sure.” Then I faced him with a counterfeit smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve come bearing Chinese takeout?”

Gus didn’t smile, but regarded me coldly, as if he were looking at an organism which had just sprouted legs and crawled out of the sea. I cocked a brow and frowned. “Or not.”

“I was sent here,” he finally managed to say as he closed the door behind him. I noticed with concerned interest, but not quite alarm, that he also locked it.

I pushed the woodwich away from me and studied Gus carefully before exhaling a pent-up breath as I tried to guess just
why
he’d been sent here. Aside from Betta and Luce, Gus was the only other visitor I’d ever had. And Gus’s visit was even more bizarre because he and I never had said more than a handful of words to one another.

“Do you care to explain?” I asked. I tried to appear at ease, but inside, my heart was pounding and my hands felt clammy. I was nervous. I could feel the anxiety in my body—the way every one of my nerves practically announced its presence. But I wasn’t sure why. Gus, in general, wasn’t the type of person who could have gotten under my skin. ’Course that was then and this was now …

“Yes,” he answered, taking a few steps closer to me and leaning against the drab, brown kitchen counter. He didn’t say anything else as he studied me. His expression suggested he enjoyed knowing information to which I wasn’t privy.

“Okay,” I started, eyeing him impatiently as every nerve throughout my being twitched apprehensively. “Now would normally be the time when you start explaining,” I finished in a facetious tone, which only served to irritate him. I could tell by the frown that deeply furrowed his brow.

“You might want to drop the attitude, Bryn,” he fired back at me, crossing his arms against his chest. “You aren’t exactly in any position to have one.”

I narrowed my eyes and stood up, not enjoying the feel of him looking down at me. If he wanted to play hard ball, that was fine with me. I folded my arms over my chest and gave him the same glare he was giving me. “Why are you here, Gus?”

“I’m here to inform you that you’ve been demoted,” he announced. The change in his tone of voice, which took on a lilt, suggested that he enjoyed being the bearer of bad news.

“Demoted?” I laughed, like it wasn’t a big deal. And, really, it wasn’t. I figured it would just be a matter of time until I was stripped of all my former titles and accolades. It was par for the course. “And what have I been demoted to?” I asked, sounding bored. I flipped the top of my sandwich off and poked at the grey turkey, half wondering if I might find a stray leaf or two. “Or, wait, let me guess.” Then I drummed my fingers against my chin and pretended to be deep in thought. “Maybe janitorial staff? Or dog walker? Maybe shoe shiner to his royal holiness?” Of course, I was referring to Luce. Based on the sudden tick in Gus’s jaw, he knew it too. If Gus were anything, it was “professional ass-kisser” where Luce was concerned. As soon as I remembered that bit of information, Gus’s unannounced visit started to make more sense. “So was this visit of yours part of your compensation package for being Luce’s lap dog? You get to tell me about my demotion?” I asked, no longer able to keep my temper in check.

“Laugh now, but you won’t be laughing in a few seconds,” Gus spat back at me, his face scrunching up into an even more unpleasant expression. Although far from handsome before, now he appeared downright ugly.

“Try me,” I managed, my jaw growing tighter.

“Where to start …” Gus said, glancing up at the ceiling as if he were trying to recall a long list.

“Try the beginning.”

Bringing his eyes to mine, his were ice cold, soulless even, and the exact clones of Luce’s. It suddenly dawned on me that were I to look any of my fellow tribe members in the eyes, I’m sure they would all have revealed that same hollow emptiness. Why? Because they were all automatons, obeying the orders of Luce and the Daywalker leader, Nairn. There was not an original thought to be found among the lot of them. I was suddenly glad, no
, thrilled
, that I no longer was considered one of them. For the first time ever, I could say that I was my own person. For the first time, I understood what true independence felt like. And I relished it.

“You have been fully stripped of your former title as Trainer to the Soldier Recruits,” Gus started, a smile sounding in his words.

“Boo-hoo!” I faux cried with an angry laugh but then the laugh died on my lips just as quickly as it surfaced. “If Luce expects me to give a shit about my title as trainer, I don’t. And you can tell him that yourself.”

“Done,” Gus said, but the smile on his face promised more bad news.

“What’s next?” I demanded with a yawn, just for the hell of it.

“Not only have you been stripped of your title as head trainer, you are also no longer to be considered a soldier. You have been expunged from the warrior class,” he continued in a hurried tone, like he couldn’t wait to get to the ultimate reveal.

“I’m not in the warrior class anymore?” I repeated in surprise, not because I was disappointed, but more because I hadn’t considered that this might happen. But, the more I thought about it, the more my demotion started to make sense. “I can’t say it was unexpected,” I offered with no trace of regret. “Luce can’t trust me, so he doesn’t want me fighting on his side or with him anymore—that makes sense.”

“Yes, obviously,” Gus spat back at me. He appeared irritated, probably because I wasn’t. “Traitors don’t usually make loyal soldiers.”

“Ah, well stated, Gussy boy,” I said with a big, fake smirk. “Maybe you’ll even earn your own page in the annals of the tribe some day!”

He glared at me for a few seconds, but soon appeared to get a handle on his anger. The creases in his forehead settled somewhat. “You’ve been demoted from the warrior class,” he continued.

“Yes, I got that part,” I interrupted him, sounding exasperated. “So what class am I in now? The humans, or have I been demoted even lower? Maybe the class of the ground squirrels?”

Gus smiled a wide, hideously ugly smile that looked more threatening than it did happy. Clearly whatever point he’d come here to deliver was something he’d been looking forward to this entire time. In fact, he was so excited, he looked like he might pee his pants. “You’ve been assigned to the class of the breeders!” he finished, nearly tripping on his words in an attempt to get them out so quickly. His serpentine smile widened.

“What?” I demanded, half wondering if I’d heard him correctly because I couldn’t say I had a clue as to what he was going on about. “What are you talking about?”

“Since you’ve been gone,” he started before glancing down at his fingernails, and inspecting each one as he deliberately took his damn time to spit the rest out.

“Yes?” I prodded him, frowning all the while. “Since I’ve been gone, what?”

“There have been some changes,” he continued. Glancing over at me again, he exhaled and clasped his hands behind him in a strangely casual manner. It almost made him look like he should have been strolling down the boardwalk somewhere. “Luce and Nairn introduced a new class of citizens within our tribe.” He paused for two seconds. “The breeder class.”

“Yeah, we got that far,” I spat back at him. “What the hell is a breeder?” I repeated, shaking my head because I was still at a loss. “You mean pair bonds?”

Pair bonds were the closest things to relationships that existed in the tribe. They consisted of a man and a woman, either Elementals with Elementals, or Daywalkers with Daywalkers (both types of creatures were kept distinctly separate). Each pair bond was preselected by Luce. Their main responsibility in the tribe was to procreate, thereby providing the tribe with a continuous supply of future tribespeople.

“No, I don’t mean pair bonds,” Gus hissed, looking disgusted with me all the while. “Pair bonds have been done away with because they weren’t populating the tribe quickly enough, or plentifully enough. They’ve been replaced with the breeders.”

“Right,” I glared back at him. “And I’m hoping that at some point in time, you’re going to explain what that term means, because I’m not sure how many more times I can tell you that I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I finished, my voice hinting at the intense indignation beginning to brew inside me. Contrary to my statement, I actually had a pretty good idea of what a breeder was, but I just needed to hear it directly from the ass’s mouth.

“Breeders are women in our tribe who are capable of nothing more than bearing future tribespeople,” Gus started, and the smile on his mouth grew increasingly irritating. “These women don’t possess intelligence or physical acuity, which might have served them well in other positions of the tribe. But, as you well know, everyone within the tribe must carry his or her own weight,” he continued. My cheeks burned with heat as the indignation I’d started to feel at the onset of this conversation began to burst into a raging fire.

“They don’t possess intelligence or physical acuity?” I repeated, barely able to form the words because my jaw was clenched so tight.

“Yes,” Gus answered in a highfalutin manner that further enraged me. “Because these women aren’t considered capable of anything else, they are used strictly for procreation.”