Feral (The Irisbourn Chronicles Book 1) (17 page)

“But, that night, something
changed.
 
Adrian told me that one of the
prisoners knew of a sanctuary that would be willing to hide us from the
Bloodbourn.
 
However, the prisoner would
only be willing to disclose the location of the sanctuary on two
conditions.
 
First and most obvious, we
would free the prisoner, who we would then protect while we were led to the
sanctuary.
 
The second, Adrian never told
me.”

“Why not?” I inquired.
 
“I mean, you’re his sister.
 
Why wouldn’t he tell you?”

“My brother likes his privacy,”
Arisella guessed weakly.
 
“He still won’t
say anything about the second condition, and I’ve asked him plenty of
times.
 
All I know is that after that
meeting, I didn’t see him for a week.
 
When he came back, he told me he had made preparations for us to leave
immediately.”
 
Arisella stopped in
thought, and I indicated for her to continue.

“We waited for nightfall, and then
the three of us slipped out of the palace, cloaked in darkness.
 
With the prisoner’s extensive knowledge of
the geography, we didn’t have any trouble fleeing the Bloodbourn
territories.
 
After many days, we finally
reached an underground asylum founded by insurgent Beastbourn called the
Praetus.

“But, not long after arriving, we
were already preparing to leave.
 
We
could only stay long enough to rest and replenish our supplies.
 
After the Blood War, the Blood King’s
influence knew no bounds.
 
Nowhere in
Fallyre was safe for us, and we couldn’t afford to stay in one place for too
long.

“After hearing of our intentions,
the prisoner we had brought to safety offered us a pons.
 
The prisoner had somehow managed to conceal
it after over a decade in captivity.
 
The
prisoner knew that Earth would be safer for us, that the Bloodbourn wouldn’t
even be thinking to look for us here.
 
Adrian and I accepted the pons, and we used it to get out of Fallyre and
come here.”

“You still haven’t explained how
you integrated into the human world – and how you found all of this,” I gestured
largely to the property around me.

Arisella sighed.
 
“Only a handful of Divinbloods walk amongst
humans, and even fewer mortals know we exist.
 
Even so, we have our ways of worming into your community.
 
The Praetus have established many connections
throughout the human world, through which we were able to obtain our
identities, our food, even this house.”

“But why
this
house?” I persisted.

“This house is one of many safe
havens that had been designated solely for Irisbourn who wish to travel to the
mortal world,” Arisella answered.
 
“That’s why an Irisbourn pons can open the locks, and why this house is
so large and always furnished.
 
Weapons
are hidden here, too, if you know where to look.
 
It’s no coincidence that we happened to move
in beside one another.
 
Your house is a
safe haven as well – that’s why our houses are identical to one another.”

Arisella’s steady blue eyes
reflected the question mark on my face.
 
She took a deep breath and continued to explain.

“Like I said – few mortals know
Divinbloods exist.
 
Those who do, own
safe havens such as ours and are willing to cooperate with Divinbloods by
allowing us to live here.
 
Since your
parents owned a safe haven, they must have been privy to the existence of
Divinbloods.”

“And then it makes sense why they
would have adopted me,” I realized.
 
“Who’s the human who owns your house?”

“We’ve never met them.” Arisella
got up and began to pace around a nearby pile of blades.
 
“Contact with the owner is unnecessary,
although Adrian and I have even been assigned an Earthbound Divinblood guardian
by the Praetus, who stops by every so often to check on us and bring us
anything we might need, from brown contacts to soup.”

“Will I ever get to meet your
guardian?”

“I should say not,” Arisella said
adamantly.
 
“Just because Adrian and I
can trust her with our safety doesn’t necessarily mean we can trust her with
yours.”

In a flash of movement, Arisella
seized another knife and threw it at me.
 
I swerved to the side, but the blade grazed my shirt, tearing it at the
shoulder.

“Can you stop that?!” I shouted,
jumping to my feet.
 
I quickly bent over
to pick up the blade she had just thrown, so that I would feel a little less
vulnerable.
 
“I can’t believe I’m even
trusting
you
with my safety.”

Arisella scowled.
 
“A Bloodbourn blade strikes hard and
true.
 
If you don’t learn how to avoid
one, you won’t need to worry about trusting your safety to anyone.”
 
She picked up six fresh blades and positioned
them between her fingers, pointing them upwards from her knuckles.

“You, uh, aren’t planning on
throwing all those at me,” I gulped.
 
“Right?”

“You’re behind in your training,
Amber.
 
And we’re losing daylight.
 
How about we speed things up?” Arisella’s
lips curled upwards.

“How about we not?” I said, inching
away from her.
 
As soon as Arisella had a
weapon in her hand, it was like she became a completely different person.

“Let’s begin.”
 
Arisella drew her hands to her sides and eyed
me wildly.

“No, Arisella, are you crazy?
 
DON’T!”

But it was too late.
 
She was already throwing them at me, one at a
time, watching me in amusement as I danced around the knives, while I
simultaneously distanced myself from her.

“ARISELLA!
 
STOP!” I cried.
 
I darted away like a frightened rabbit to the
back of the yard.

As if on command, Arisella actually
stopped.
 
I heard muffled grunts and then
a massive thump, and then just the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears.

When I turned around, Adrian was on
top of Arisella, furiously pinning her to the ground with one of his black
needle-like blades at the base of her throat.

“What the hell is this?!” Adrian
demanded.
 
He was covered in sweat, and
it was obvious he had been running for quite a while.
 
“Aris, I told you to train her, not kill
her!”

“I
was
training her,” Arisella spat, “the same way we were trained.”

“Do you remember how many students
died
during that training?!”

Arisella managed a shrug.
 
“I was hoping for the best.”

Adrian scowled and got off his
sister.
 
He turned toward me.
 
“Did she hurt you?” he asked with unease.

“No,” I answered bitterly.
 
“Although I wouldn’t be surprised if I
developed post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Aris, no more weapons training
with Amber from now on.
 
Ever.”
 
Adrian glared at Arisella.
 
“Leave that to me.
 
You’ll help her with the change.”

My heart beat faster in light of my
new training arrangements, and Arisella scowled at my bright expression.

“Fine,” Arisella muttered, clearly
disappointed.
 
“Have it your way.”

That was the moment I actually
began to look forward to my weapons training.

Chapter
Eighteen

I got through school without paying
very much attention to anything I was doing.
 
Hell, I may have even handed in blank tests without noticing.
 
My physical training had been cutting into my
sleeping and studying hours, and my grades were barely salvageable at this
point.

What with the overwhelming stress
of knowing that someone wanted me dead, my crappy grades carried the importance
of unwatered plants.
 
I had a lot more
important problems to worry about.
 
For
example, Dylan had started asking too many questions about all the time I spent
with Adrian and Arisella.
 
The last
night, he had caught me trying to stealthily slip into my room after I had
finished training.
 
When he asked me what
I had been up to, I told him I had been tutoring Adrian and Arisella (if only I
were – they really could have used the help), but Dylan didn’t believe me, and
I wasn’t surprised.
 
I was covered in
dirt and my shirt was torn.
 
He didn’t
have to be a rocket scientist to know that wasn’t how people usually left
tutoring sessions.

In fact, he had just begun to
revisit the subject as we walked into our cold, unwelcoming math class.
 
As usual, we were the first ones there.

“You know, Amber, aren’t you
supposed to be tutoring me?” Dylan brought up casually.
 
“Our teachers think you are.”

“I never actually agreed to do
that.”
 
On my desk I placed the paper I
had prepared the prior night.
 
Gray,
penciled numbers ran across the entire page in neat lines.
 
It looked like I had put a damn lot of effort
into it.

“Maybe you might be able to tutor
me with Adrian and Arisella,” Dylan suggested.
 
Subtle
.

“I don’t really think that would be
a good idea.
 
Adrian and Arisella aren’t
in the same classes we’re in.”
 
Honestly,
I had no idea what classes Adrian and Arisella were in.
 
I strongly suspected they may have been at a
first grade level in history, though.

Dylan’s face fell, and I
immediately felt a punch of guilt.
 
“But,” I continued, “I promise to help you more from now on, until you
catch up.”

From the corner of my eye, I
spotted Spencer trying to flag me down like I was an airplane.
 
He had just entered on the opposite side of
the room, and was gesturing for me to join him.

“One sec, Dylan,” I said quickly
before going over to Spencer to see what he wanted.

Spencer was gripping a teal, striped
paper square in his hand.
 
He waggled it
enticingly in front of my face as if he expected me to eagerly reach out and
grab it.
 
Printed on one side was the
outline of an overly enthusiastic panther dribbling a basketball.

“Your ticket,” Spencer practically
sang.
 
He was genuinely delighted to see
me.
 
The guilt that pooled in my stomach
made me feel like a criminal.

“Thanks, Spencer.” I accepted the
ticket and directed an excessive amount of effort into inspecting the ten words
that had been printed on it.
 
“It was
really nice of you to get it for me.”

“It was no trouble, really,”
Spencer reassured me.
 
I sighed in
relief.
 
Hopefully he was telling the
truth.
 
“So, pick you up at six?”

“Uh,” I stammered.
 
“Don’t you have to ride to the stadium with
your team?”

“Nah, I’ll just pick you up after
practice.
 
I actually prefer driving up
alone – you would too, if you spent two hours every week crammed into a tiny
bus with an entire team of basketball players.
 
Although, if you have a thing for basketball players, you may actually
enjoy that.”
 
Spencer winked at me
suggestively.

I felt the heat rise to my
face.
 
“Don’t worry, I don’t,” I
reassured him, and mentally groaned when I realized who I was talking to.
 
“I mean, I don’t even like sports, so that wouldn’t
really affect me,” I said quickly, before I could hurt his feelings.

“Nice save,” Spencer laughed, but
the laugh was awkward.

“I should really go back to my
seat.
 
Ms. Garner will be back any
minute. Thanks for this.” I held up the ticket and smiled at him appreciatively
before turning and making my way back to Dylan.

“So, what did he want?” Dylan
demanded.

“He was giving me a ticket to his
game.
 
He was just being polite,” I
sighed.

“I cannot believe you are still
doing this,” Dylan grumbled.
 
“You don’t
even like him.”

“Who knows?
 
Maybe I’ll have fun.”

Dylan scoffed.
 
“Fun, at a basketball game?
 
Amber, you hate sports.”

“Please, Dylan-” I began just as
Ms. Garner entered the room.

“Homework out, pens in hand,” Ms.
Garner said curtly as she took her place at the front of the class, immediately
silencing me.
 
She was wearing a long,
dark maxi dress today that billowed with every step she took, making her seem
darker and more sinister than usual.

From across the room, I caught
Cecelia shamelessly giving me the stink eye, and I realized she had probably
witnessed the exchange that had gone on between Spencer and me.
 
But today, rather than ignore her like I did
every other day, I smiled back at her wickedly, and I couldn’t help but feel
pleased as she seemed to be taken aback.

“Your work, Miss Tesse,” Ms. Garner
snapped impatiently, interrupting my nonverbal conversation with Cecelia.

“Right here,” I said.
 
I fluidly drew the sheet of homework from my
bag and placed it on my bare desk.

Ms. Garner’s face fell slightly,
and she ran one of her long, thin fingers over my work, whispering the numbers
to herself as she went through the paper.

After two minutes, she must have
deemed my work adequate, because she mumbled, “acceptable” and left.

When she reached Cecelia’s desk,
her brow furrowed while she alternated her attention between Cecelia’s paper
and Cecelia’s face.

“Ms. Garner, is something wrong?”
Cecelia asked confusedly.

Ms. Garner only shook her
head.
 
“Cecelia Stone, you must put more
effort into your work than this.
 
This is
not even the correct assignment.
 
This is
a fifth grade level math assignment, and even then, all your answers are
incorrect.”

“That can’t be right,” Cecelia
stammered.

“Seven hundred divided by seven
equals seventy-seven?
 
I’m very disappointed
in you, Miss Stone.
 
I never want to see
this happen again.”

Damn, Ms. Garner was definitely
letting Cecelia off way too easily.

Cecelia frowned, mortified.
 
“Yes ma’am.”

When Ms. Garner moved on, Cecelia
glared at me accusatorily, and I tried to hide my mirth.

“That was the paper on your desk at
the beginning of class, wasn’t it,” Dylan whispered from over my shoulder.

“Yes,” I affirmed, impressed that
he had caught on so quickly.

“She’s been taking your homework,
hasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think she’ll be doing that
again.”
 
Dylan sounded proud of me.

“I don’t think so either.”

I really just spent the rest of the
day counting down the minutes until the dismissal bell rang.
 
The moment we were released, I flew out of
class and into the hallway, where I brusquely forced my way through the
disorderly waves of warm, chattering bodies.

“Christ, Amber – hold on!” Dylan
called.
 
He gawkily slammed into the
students behind me.

Oh crap, I had forgotten about him
again.

I slowed my pace and led him to a
less crowded area where we wouldn’t feel so much like claustrophobic sardines.

“Why are you in such a hurry?
 
I was thinking we might be able to get some
burgers on the way home,” Dylan huffed.
 
He hurried to match his stride with mine.

“Sorry, can’t.” I looked at him
apologetically.

Dylan visibly deflated.
 
“Oh. Why?”

“I’m supposed to meet Adrian and
Arisella again.
 
They really need help
with… history,” I lied.

Dylan scowled.
 
“It’s a Friday.
 
They’ll manage.”

“Dylan,” I pled, willing him to
understand.
 
“I promised them.”

“I know, but you’ve been seeing
them every day.
 
I just thought you could
use a break.” Dylan shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

“Thank you, Dylan, but they really
need the help.”
 
The lie tasted terrible
in my mouth.

“So do I, you know.”

My eyes widened in
realization.
 
All those extra
appointments he had been having with his teachers – could he have been failing
some of his classes?
 
Even I was having
trouble with my schoolwork, and I had been attending classes longer than he had
been.

“Crap, Dylan, I –“

“Don’t worry about it,” Dylan said
dismissively, although I definitely would keep worrying about it.
 
I mentally filed this conversation away for
revisitation later that night.
 
“Anyway,
it’s a Friday.
 
I’m going to get
burgers.
 
Do you want anything?”

“Uh, no, I’m good.”
 
I was slightly surprised that he didn’t plan
on walking home with me.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”
 
He abruptly took off, leaving me behind.

“See you later,” I said softly,
even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me.