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Grayson walks to the hearth and ladles out a bowl of soup, nodding his head in my direction. “Mari, this is Everleigh, my girlfriend. Everleigh—Mari.”
“Where’s the other snot-nose kid?” She takes the bowl from Grayson’s hand. “Bastian and I told you not to take this job. Fresh Avrenian blood will lead them right to our doorstep.”
“She’s an orphan, like us, Evie.” He sighs and places his bowl at the table beside me. “Can you show an ounce of compassion?” Sitting down, he takes a piece of bread and places it on a napkin beside his bowl. “The boy didn’t make it. I had to kill a werewolf in the highlands.”
Still not looking at me, Everleigh sits beside Levi and digs her spoon into her soup, stirring it. Wafts of steam rise from the surface. “See. They attract the supernatural like flies to rotten meat.”
I bite into my lip, wanting to ask her why she’d compare me to a dead carcass. But I stick to my agreement with Grayson and remain quiet. These people—Levi and Everleigh, along with someone named Bastian—are being asked to accept a person who is from a city that oppresses them. Their hatred makes sense.
“We’ll start training tomorrow. If she is to be one of us, she’ll need to know how to defend herself.” Grayson elbows me, causing the soup on my spoon to spill on the wooden table. “If there’s one thing I’ll agree with, it’s that she’s about as useful as a dead carcass.”
“Hey!” I set my spoon down and cross my arms. In Avren, they trained me as a seamstress before my mother died. Caron also helped hone my skills with a needle and thread. The plan was that I would supervise Undesirables in my clothing shop when I had a place. I tread the fine line between the others liking me and standing up for myself. “It’s not as if I like the situation any more than any of you, but the Council arranged it and we’re stuck together.”
Everleigh smirks and brushes a strand of curly hair out of her face. “Maybe we can feed her to the wolves, or even better, the fairies. It’s not like anyone’s going to miss her in Avren. Her parents are dead.”
I close my eyes. “My mother’s dead.” I run my finger along the woodgrain of the table. The unpredictability of the knots and grooves reminds me of my current situation. “My father left for the wilderness of his own accord.”
“Oh, I stand corrected.” Everleigh narrows her gaze on me for the first time. “Your mother’s dead and your father rejected you. I don’t know what’s worse. Must be a beast to live with.” She turns to Levi and signs as a huge smirk crosses her lips.
“Knock it off, Evie,” Levi says, eyebrows drawn in. “You need to give people a chance.”
“Where’s Bastian?” Everleigh scrapes back her chair and cups her hands over her mouth. “Bastian! Get down here, you big baby. I’m outnumbered.”
A door creaks open at the top of the stairs, and I hear his boots, heavy on the floorboards, before I see him. He’s dressed differently than the others, wearing more formal fighting gear—leather straps crisscross over his enormous chest. His long brown hair falls like a curtain over his face, where a deep scowl carves into his full lips. I can’t see his eyes.
“You woke me from my nap, Evie,” he growls, pushing a strand of hair to the side and revealing a crystal-blue eye.
My breath hitches.
“I need support on this one.” She plops back into her chair and holds a hand out to me. “Gray and Levi think it’s ok to drag this stuck-up werewolf magnet into our home without our consent.”
Bastian wanders into the kitchen and rests his hands against the counter, mumbling something under his breath. I stare at his massive shoulders. They move up and down as he breathes. Never in my life have I seen someone as strong as him. Even Grayson doesn’t measure up, and he killed a werewolf.
He turns to us, tucking his hair behind his ears and staring at me with his mesmerizing eyes, then flicking them to Grayson. “I’ve got enough to worry about with the attacks on the southern edge of the city, and you want me to train her too? A weakling? A Citizen raised as a princess?”
I square my shoulders, hostility running through my veins. I want to jump up and attack him, but he could squeeze the life out of me with one hand. So, I use the only weapon I have—my words. “And I suppose a big oaf like you turns to barbells instead of books because you struggle to string a complete sentence together?”
Grayson’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. A foot kicks me under the table.
Bastian pushes off from the counter and crosses the room, pulling out the chair from the end of the table and flipping it around before he sits in it. He rests his arms on the back, placing his chin on them and stares at me. “You brought us a smart mouth, Gray. Maybe I’ll enjoy whipping her ass into shape.”
Everleigh laughs and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “This might be fun. Build her confidence before we throw her to the wolves.”
“Enough, already.” Grayson shoves his bowl to the center of the table. “We discussed this before I took the job. The Redeemed in the towns will eat her alive, and the only other options are for her to try her luck with the Supes or become one of Arazian’s zombies, and like Bastian said, she’s in no shape for that.”
“Citizen or not, she’s like us,” Levi signs before he stands and picks up his bowl along with Grayson’s and brings them to the sink. “Another mouth to feed won’t harm us too badly.”
I slump in my chair as the four carry on a conversation as if I’m not there. I miss my mother and my friends in Avren—Samryn, Ferrah, and Mel. With Tanner gone, no one really understands what I’m going through. For Grayson, it has been many years since he left the city. He’s acclimated to his life as a Redeemed—whatever that means.
“And what about the sickness?” Everleigh crosses her arms. Freckles pepper her bare skin, the same as the ones on her face. “Her mother had it. Who’s saying she’s not contagious? One thing’s for sure. There’s no way I’m touching her or getting any closer than this.” She motions between the two of us.
Hot tears well in my eyes. With talk of my mother, she’s hit a nerve, bringing up feelings I tried to push behind me. I long for my bed with the soft sheets and the music box my father bought me when I was five. After my father left us, I’d wind it up each night, its comforting melody lulling me to sleep. This will be my first night without it. Everything I ever owned, except my mother’s ledger, now belongs to the government.
“You better get some rest.” Bastian inspects me as if he can read my every thought, making me squirm in my seat. He must see the tears I desperately try to hide. “I’m going to drag you out of bed at the crack of dawn. I’ve got more to do with my day than train weaklings.”
No longer caring about what he, or any of them, can see, I straighten my back. “I hope one day someone places you in front of a bunch of strangers and questions you about how your parents died.” I scrape back my chair, ready to march out, but I don’t know where I’m going. “Where am I sleeping?”
“This way.” Grayson stands and glares at his girlfriend and Bastian. He leads me to a door to the right of the kitchen and opens it, ushering me in.
