CHAPTER
23
IN A blur, days turned into weeks faster than I could ever imagine they would, taking me further away from the life I had known and turning it into something foreign. Hours during the day were spent getting to know all the different areas in my body that could hurt, places I’d never even thought about before.
My legs felt like they had permanent shin splints from running in the evenings. It didn’t matter if it was indoors or outdoors. My thighs ached from the uneven terrain when we were outside, and from when we were inside, and Seth jacked up the treadmill incline to run-or-die levels. The cheeks of my butt hurt from both the running and falling on them. I didn’t even want to think about my back, because the word b-a-c-k made it ache.
About a week into training, I’d finally taken a fall correctly. Once in an entire day, and it wasn’t until two days later that I was able to consistently land the correct way, but in the big scheme of things, that was a minor triumph, even though Luke and Seth insisted it was a big deal. But after learning how to take a fall without knocking the air out of my lungs or giving myself a concussion, I had to learn how to get back up.
Quickly.
And like a ninja.
Seth and Luke had taught me that I didn’t want to roll up or get up by turning my back on the attacker, which was a big duh, but they expected me to get up just by pulling my legs in and propelling myself onto my feet.
What?
So this new phase of training had my stomach muscles feeling like someone had karate-chopped my nonexistent abs and my b-a-c-k was hurting even worse because I’d finally been able to get myself off the ground, kind of horizontally? only to fall right back down. It took almost another week for me to learn that I needed to roll onto my shoulders and to gain enough force when swinging my legs back down to propel myself up.
Then I spent another two days doing this repeatedly until the guys figured it was time to move onto defensive techniques, which resulted in lovely shades of purple, blue and red up and down my arms.
After the training sessions, I usually ate dinner in the cafeteria with Deacon and Luke, and there I saw more aspects of this strange world. I got to see pures using the elements to do things, like moving their plates or chairs without touching them, or causing it to rain over the unsuspecting heads of other students.
Other than Deacon and Luke, no one else really warmed up to me, even though a lot of them ended up watching the three of us train. The chick named Thea, with the huge boobs, was there every other day visually molesting Seth, and I didn’t want to think about what it could mean.
Seth hadn’t spent an entire night with me since our first night at the University. And while I knew I shouldn’t be affected by his absence and I understood there was no reason for us to keep sharing a bed, I missed it, especially after he left in the evenings.
Another torturous ritual had begun after the first night of training, when Seth had given me that downright frustrating backrub. Every night since then, barring the random days off, after I ate dinner and then showered, Seth would show up with the jar that seemed to be bottomless.
We would chat for a little while, sometimes talking about nothing important, like what character we thought would be the last man standing on The Walking Dead or who was the better Winchester brother. Other times, the conversations ran deeper. He’d talk a little more about his mother and how beautiful she was, and what it was like to be shipped off to a school in a remote land. And I would tell him what was like to spend my summers on the lake and how lonely it was during the school year. Then I would lie on my belly with my shirt tucked under my breasts and Seth would apply the ointment, and when that ointment was gone from the slightly rough fingertips, he didn’t stop. Not right away, at least.
His fingers and hands had mapped out every dip and curve of my back and sides. He was intimately familiar with each small ridge in my spine and the line of my shoulders. His touch… I don’t know if it was because of what he was or because of who he was, it was like lightning in a bottle for my senses. From the moment he’d touch me, my body warmed—liquid heat pooled deep in my core and simmered in my veins. My breathing became more shallow with each passing moment and a different kind of ache invaded my body.
I was totally aware of how my body responded, how my hips would twitch and how I’d press my legs together to try to elevate the tension building. And he had to have known what he was doing to me, the state he was leaving me in.
And he did leave every night, and I had no idea where he went. Back to his room? Out somewhere on the campus? Because I knew there were parties. I heard Deacon talking about them. I couldn’t imagine that he was spending every night by himself, especially since I also knew he was just as affected by the nightly rub-down as I was. When he’d stand to leave, I could see how affected he was. He wanted me, but he didn’t act on it, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that meant he was acting on it elsewhere.
Sometimes he brushed my hair back from my face before he left. Other times his hands just lingered on my hips when he stood. Last night he had kissed my cheek, but he’d still left.
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” Deacon commented, drawing my attention to where he sat across from me. We’d broken for lunch, and Seth had gone off wherever he went. I grabbed a quick sandwich with the boys in the cafeteria. “Do I need to get you a pillow?”
I smiled tiredly. I hadn’t been sleeping well, partly due to thinking about things I didn’t want to think about. Like my grandparents. Like my missing mom. Like how much I missed Erin. And like how much I sucked at training.
And the fact Seth had my body wrung so tight I felt like I was going to snap didn’t help.
“I’m good.” I picked a huge slice of tomato off my sandwich.
Luke finished off his mammoth bottle of water. “How was this morning?”
“Still working on defensive blocks—punches and kicks.” I sat back, sighing. “I still suck.”
He frowned. “Josie, you don’t suck. You’re doing great, and I don’t think you understand how long we’ve been training. We make it seem easy, only because we’ve been doing this stuff since we were eight, but we know it’s not. We know—”
Someone shouted behind us, and Luke twisted in his seat. I saw Deacon’s eyes widen, so I cautiously turned around.
A tall guy with black hair and olive skin was facing off with another dude, who wasn’t as tall, but definitely broader.
“What did you say to me?” Black-Haired Guy demanded, bright green eyes flashing.
Shorter Dude cocked his chin up. “I said, fuck you. And I’ll say it one more time and I’ll add onto it. Fuck you, you fucking Hematoi. You think you’re better than me, but you’re not, so fuck off.”
“Hematoi?” I searched my memory for that word, finding nothing.
“Means pure-blood,” Deacon answered quietly. “This isn’t good.”
Luke pushed back from the table. “Nope.”
A loose group was starting to form around the two guys, and the Sentinels at the other end of the cafeteria started toward them.
“I’ll say it again for you, too. Your kind doesn’t belong here.” Black-Haired Guy raised a hand. “Yeah, so fuck this.”
Shorter Dude lifted off his feet as if an invisible wrecking ball had slammed into his stomach. He was knocked back several feet, into a few of the guys crowding around him. The pure had to have been using the air element. Shorter Dude gained his balance easily, and then lurched forward, a large arm cocking back to land a powerful strike.
“Shit,” Luke muttered, standing.
“Stop,” Black-Haired Guy commanded, his voice moving like a ripple over the cafeteria, and holy crap, the Shorter Dude drew up short and stopped, arm frozen in midair. A sneer formed on the pure’s lip. “Go to the top of the tallest building you can find, and then jump out the window.”
My brows flew up, because that had to be the lamest comeback in history and I expected better from a descendant of a mythological creature, but then Shorter Dude spun around and started walking off. Unease churned in my stomach as I watched him cross the cafeteria.
“Oh my gods,” Deacon said, coming to his feet as he raised his voice. “Someone stop him! That was a compulsion!”
My stomach dropped. The guys had filled me on a lot of things during the last couple of weeks, and I remembered clearly that, even before the Breed Order was abolished, using compulsions on halfs was forbidden. I’d found it ironic that they could use it on mortals as long as it did not place them in danger, but I knew that what the Dark-Haired Guy had just done had been a major no-no, a huge violation.
Luke shot forward, getting in front of Shorter Dude and slamming his hands into the guy’s shoulders, but the guy kept trying to move forward.
“What the hell?” someone shouted—a girl. She came out of nowhere, all lean muscle and beautifully smooth dark skin. She shoved the pure back into the table and then snapped forward, curling a hand around the guy’s throat like a pro. “If you even try to pull that shit with me, I’ll break your neck. Undo the compulsion, asshole.”
“Screw you,” the pure grunted out.
Chaos broke out. Plates crashed to the floor. Bottles of water and soda toppled over. Tables were overturned as fists flew and bodies smacked into the floor. The double doors at the center of the room exploded as Sentinels rushed into the room, diving into the melee, and they were completely swallowed by the fighting group.
At the door, Luke was still wrestling with the half who was under a compulsion, and Deacon was with him. He had his arms around the half from the back, his sandaled feet digging in, trying to hold him back.
And then it turned horrific.
A flash of bright red went up in the corner, and someone screamed. The smell of burnt ozone and…and charred skin quickly filled the room. I jumped to my feet, my mouth dropping open as a human-shaped ball of flames ran out between two overturned tables, whirling and twisting. Shrieks erupted from the poor soul.
Oh my God.
Horror seized me in its grip and a part of my brain couldn’t process what I was seeing—witnessing a person being burned alive. I started forward, not sure how to help, but someone—a girl—rushed toward the person, holding a glass of water. She threw it into the air as she raised her other hand. The stream of water rapidly expanded, pulsing as it spread out like a web of water.