Page 57 of No One’s Daughter

I WAS WOKEN to the force of something having been thrown at my face. I immediately jolted upright with a groan and threw the object—I then realised to be one of my boots—back at him. He caught it without any effort, because of course he did.

​“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I gritted through my teeth, blinking the remnants of sleep away.

​We’d been confined to this tiny bedsit for two nights now and I was ready to kill him.

​I was so damn tired, still not aligned with his stupid sleeping during the day schedule. I never considered myself much of a sun worshiper, but God did I miss the feeling of daylight on my skin. Not to mention the lack of personal space was really grinding on me. I didn’t like sharing anything with anyone on a good day if I actually liked the person in question. This arrangement, if it could even be called that, was a living nightmare. He watched my every move to the point where I was pretty sure he even watched me as I slept. I hated it, and I hated him.

​“Up! Now,” he roared at me, once again throwing one of my boots at me. It smacked against my side and dropped onto the floor beside me.

​He was already fully dressed, already irritable. I didn’t know what the fuck had crawled up his arse last night, and I didn’t want to know, but I wasn’t going to let him continue to get away with treating me like this.

​“Can we just take a minute here,” I said, baring my palms. “Would it kill you to at least talk to me like a human being?”

​“You’re not human.”

​“I—” I stopped, swallowing because he was right. I wasn’t, and I balked at his blunt reminder. “You know what I mean,” I scoffed, pulling my clothes on quickly—jeans and a wrinkled top that clung awkwardly in places, everything mismatched and thrown together like I didn’t quite belong in any of it anymore.

​“Don’t care. Hurry up.”

​He ushered me out, his patience well and truly gone, and onto the rickety rusted fire escape that groaned under our combined weight. The cold night air hit me immediately and I knew my old self would have felt that chill to the bone. A fine drizzle hung in the air, clinging to my skin, settling in my hair, the sky above a heavy grey.

“Where are we even going?”

“Just follow me.”

I grunted my frustration and let him lead me onto the roof. It was flat, gravelled in places, patches of moss creeping along the edges where water had settled over time. Old vents jutted up at odd angles and the low wall bordering it did little to make me feel safe. The rain had slicked everything enough to make my footing uncertain, leaving me feeling exposed.

“Why are we up here?” I asked, only to be met with nothing but his silence. He’d already turned away, crouching slightly as he rifled through his duffle bag, pulling something out.

I let out a frustrated breath, dragging a hand through my hair.

​“You need to learn how to communicate,” I muttered. “You’d think that after however many centuries you’ve been alive, someone would have told you that before.”

​“My skills aren’t the issue here.” he said without looking up. “Yours are. You need to train. You’re useless as you are.”

​I blinked.

​Taken aback, I bit my tongue. “Jeez, thanks.”

​“It’s the truth.”

​“You’re an ass.”

​“You’re finally catching on,” he said, straightening and clapping slowly, like I’d just achieved something monumental. “Well done.”

I glared at him.

“Now, catch.”

​I barely had time to process the words before something came flying at my face. Instinct took over. My hands shot up, and to my surprise… I caught it.

​I stared at what was now in my grip. A small, weighted object. A metal ball of some sort.

​He was watching me closely now.

​“Again.” He threw another.

​Faster.