Myers’ nostrils flare with a deep inhale, displaying how much she dislikes being told she’s essentially inconsequential, since I already delivered the information she came with. “Kage said he found the girl on the path. I was suspicious at first, considering the other incidents involving him, but he was adamant he had nothing to do with her condition. He actually seemed concernedfor her,” Myers divulges. My opening should be coming very soon, so I keep up the mien of indifference.
“What makes you say that?” Syrinx questions with a birdlike tilt of her chin, or maybe I just see the similarity due to her hawkish features. Her dark, beady eyes and a hook nose seem to fit the description.
“He was in a hurry. Link offered to escort the girl himself, but Kage concluded it would be faster for him to take her.”
“Your mate was with you? Weren’t you on duty?” Syrinx seems to find that interesting.
I watch as Myers clenches her jaw, making her cheekbones rise. “I called to him, and he answered. It was instinct.”
“You thought you were in danger. You were frightened of a novice.” Syrinx lifts her chin, managing to look down her nose at the other woman, even though she is still seated while the other female is standing.
“It would be foolish of me not to be…apprehensive of Kage, considering his ability, but I wasn’t frightened.” She tries to save face, but I doubt it does much good. I’ve already made up my mind about Myers, and I’m sure Syrinx has too.
I permit a small sound of annoyance to ease from my chest, and it does as intended, drawing the headmistress’ attention. She eyes me warily, and I wonder if I played my hand too strongly, but the concern is fleeting. Whether Syrinx thinks it’s her idea or not, I will be keeping close tabs on Miss Blissa. Funny, I couldn’t even remember her name before the banshee reminded me of it, yet now I suspect I wouldn’t be able to forget it if I tried. If it wouldn’t give away my interest, I would inquire about her first name.
“Am I wrong in assuming you don’t share your colleague’s apprehension of the demon?”
“No, you’re not wrong. I fear no one.”
“Good, that makes you the perfect person to monitor our new novice, at least until I can assess her talents myself.”
I don’t so much as blink at the headmistress’ directive. Challenging her now would be contrary to my desires, but it grates on me to take her order, and it would be unlike me to comply so easily. After a short pause, I tell her, “I can babysit the girltemporarily.”
“I doubt we’ll need more than that, but we’ll see how long you’re needed.” She maintains eye contact with me in a failed attempt to assert her dominance. It’s only the fact that she is giving me exactly what I want that keeps me seated, not rising to the bait, but I can’t let her words go unchecked.
“Don’t confuse appointed power for the real thing, Syrinx. I’m here because I choose to be.”
Surprising me, she cracks a wry smile. “Just checking to make sure you are present, Ziv. I know how easily you tire of the mundane. I’m hoping to keep you around a little longer, considering I know how formidable you are, as do our enemies.” She tilts her head to me in the slightest show of deference, allowing me to end the battle of wills.
I rise without another word and take my leave. I’m not ready to see the girl again so soon after the encounter with Syrinx, so I head down to the training facility to release a little steam and hopefully regain my wits.
BRIAR
Ishut my eyes with the intention of silently observing what’s going on around me. I figure the longer I can hold off the inquisition, the better, but my body must have taken the need for rest too seriously, because it feels like I’m alone and the room is much darker when I wake again.
I notice the softness of the mattress beneath me. At home, I could never get my pallet of worn blankets this smooth or comfortable while curled up on the floor. There’s also the freshness of the space. There isn’t any damp earth inches from my face or urine staling in a pot over in the corner from one of my asshole brothers who couldn’t be bothered to step outside.
I slit my eyes, trying to hide the fact that I’m actually awake in the event there is someone in the room, and assess my surroundings. There are several empty beds in the quiet area, all made up neatly with matching gray blankets and crisp white sheets. I bet if I had access to this many blankets, I could make one hell of a nest. Taking a chance, I lift my head from the pillow, and a bone-deep soreness makes my entire body feel as if I’m covered in bruises from head to toe as I test my muscles.
It isn’t the worst shape I’ve ever woken up in, but I’m definitely not in a hurry to get out of this bed. My stomach lets out a loud growl, accompanied by a sharp pang, reminding me how famished I am, but food will have to wait until I figure out where I am and how I got here. The where part seems pretty simple. I must be in the institute, but the how is much more elusive. The last thing I truly remember is walking up the road and my vision fading in and out. Everything after that feels like a dream.
Fear dulls the ache of hunger. Not knowing what happened to me is a different kind of torture. It’s bad enough when I have to witness what’s being done to me, but knowing anything could have happened while I was out of it is somehow worse. I pat the small pocket secretly sewn near my hip, feeling for the only item I brought with me, other than the clothes on my back. The little lump gives me a sense of relief. At least I know I wasn’t searched, not thoroughly anyway. It isn’t like the thing would do me a lick of good. It’s just the only thing that has ever been mine—hence why I don’t even have an extra set of clothes—and I plan on keeping my treasure.
My stomach rumbles again, followed by a cramp that has me shifting to the side for relief that doesn’t come. My mind decides now would be a good time to wonder how long it takes to starve to death, and I contemplate how close I am to that. Maybe I’ve been out longer than I thought, and the next time I close myeyes, I won’t wake up. The abyss of blackness that I find when I sleep would be welcome. The moment the idea sinks in and I realize it isn’t just an intrusive thought, I snap my already closed eyes open and look around. I’ve fought too hard for every damn breath I’ve taken to just lie here and die like I’m helpless.
Something in the corner of the room shifts, drawing my focus to the darkness gathered there, but the sound of the door opening on the other side of the room steals my immediate attention.
A massive male enters with purpose in his stride, and he seems to be heading right for me. I learned a long time ago not to cower. Weakness is like blood in the water, calling the prey to feast on your carcass, but damn, it’s hard not to sink farther into the mattress at his approach. His skin is fair, so I don’t think he’s a troll or an ogre, but judging by the size of him, he could be half. When he crosses into a shaft of light from the moon and I actually see his features, I know I was wrong—he’s far too perfect, even with the scars, to be half beast.
Lying down with him marching toward me seems like a really bad idea, leaving me nearly defenseless if he attacks, but I can’t seem to muster up an appropriate response to his advance either.
“You’re awake,” he rumbles in a gravelly voice, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while, or maybe that deep timbre is normal for him.
“Yes.” My croak is as weak as a mewling kitten, so I clear my throat and try to sit up. As soon as I plant my palms on the bed to move into a seated position, he takes hold of my upper arms and assists me by propping me against the pillows and slim metal headboard, as if I’m as light as a feather. I watch his features for some sign of curiosity or frustration, but his mien remains unwavering. I’m not used to people touching me unless they are trying to use their power against me or hoping to figure out how to absorb my ability, which thankfully, never happened.My father actually charged people for the opportunity to touch me, which is probably how this school found out about me in the first place—he got too greedy.
I don’t meet the man’s eyes when he backs away from the bed after righting me. Instead, I keep my gaze firmly locked on his broad chest, but I still note his silver hair, which is at odds with the darker shade of his short beard. Maybe he’s a shifter of some kind. If that were the case, he wouldn’t necessarily have a power to test against me, and it could explain his size. Not that I’ve met many shifters, since they tend to stay in their own territory and away from the villages, especially where we lived near the border of the Osier Realm. Most folks called where we lived the slums or a myriad of other such names, but it was the only home I’ve ever known.
My stomach grumbles again, and I fold my arm across my lower belly in a useless effort to hide the sound.
