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Hell, Hunter had even been foolishly considering staying longer this time because of it.
Things hadn’t always been like this. He’d grown up in a lower-class family, with two parents who had steady, yet small, incomes. His closet hadn’t been packed by any means, but he’d had warm clothes for the winter and cool clothes for the summer. And hunger? Hunger had been a fable, much like the boogeyman, something spoken of but never experienced.
Until Hunter’s father lost his job and started working for the actual boogeyman to make ends meet and keep their house. He hadn’t even been aware of his dad's struggle until it’d been too late and his entire family had gotten tangled up in the nightmare he’d inadvertently invited to their door.
The Frost and Snow families weren’t known to be kind, and yet his father had eaten up every word, every promise, like it’d been gospel. He’d invited the ice brothers—stepbrothers, really, one with the last name Snow, the other Frost—over for lunch and had introduced them to Hunter and his sister, Meg.
Meg had fallen hard for Frost.
Hunter had found himself drawn to Snow.
They’d both paid for it, Meg in blood, and Hunter with his soul.
But that’s how it went on Sanctum. You were either rich enough to buy someone or poor enough to be bought. There was no in-between, no matter how badly people liked to believe otherwise.
The brass bell above the door jangled as he tugged it open and stepped into the warmth of the hostel.
A woman with frizzy hair pulled up into a tight bun sat behind the check-in desk, her eyes taking him in before she turned back to the open crossword puzzle she had before her. “We’re full.”
Hunter’s heart sank and he stumbled in the center of the room on his way to the counter. “I—” he glanced over his shoulder back at the door, “Please. I’ll pay the same rate, just let me sleep in the corner.” Inside was safer than out. Comfort didn’t matter right now.
She grunted, probably used to pleas like that one by now. “No can do, cutie. Run along. If you’re quick you might make it to Midnight before the clock strikes.”
He grimaced at the mere suggestion. Midnight was located in the city's Red Light district. There were three areas to every major city on the planet that Hunter avoided at all costs. Gold, Green, and Red. Especially that one.
He shook his head, not caring about how desperate he seemed. “Please.”
“You’re a grown man,” she said with a scowl. “Act like it. What are you? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”
“I’m thirty.” Almost two years older than the ice brothers. As if that made a difference when their social standing and what they were was all that mattered.
Shouts were rare. They were born with a connection to the elements, one that allowed them to manipulate and control whatever element they bore the strongest link to.
It came at a price, however.
Shouts couldn’t grow their power naturally. To collect strength, they needed to consume the energy of their blood relatives. Whenever a Shout died, their body was burned to ash and those ashes were mixed with a special ink that was then tattooed onto the body of the person who wanted to gain more power.
The ashes had to be of a blood relative, and the longer the relative had lived, the more potent the power transfer would be. It’d long been believed that this was nature’s way of keeping things balanced and ensuring full families didn’t become extinct over greed. Killing a child wouldn’t really be worth it, after all, since they hadn’t lived long enough to accumulate enough of a connection to the elements.
Still, Shouts had somehow managed to make themselves all but extinct anyway, and now there were only a few that garnered any true power in the world. Most others came from small families that didn’t have a strong enough bloodline to support growth. They could do parlor tricks, make a candle light on its own, levitate a raindrop, tiny things. Insignificant things.
There was only one other way to grow power without the use of their bloodline and that was with a Whisper. But Whispers were unheard of, the last one in known existence having died more than forty years ago.
The last one known.
The woman’s scowl deepened at Hunter’s continued presence. “Get out.”
He opened his mouth to attempt it a third time but saw her hand dip down beneath the desk and took that as his cue to go. This part of the city, though not in one of the off-zones, wasn’t exactly safe.
The door whacked into him on the way out, but he was too stunned by the biting gust of cold wind that assaulted him from the front. Even though he’d only been in there a few minutes, the temperature outside had dropped exponentially and he found his teeth already starting to chatter as he pulled the ends of his jacket closed. The zipper had broken a while back and he’d yet to buy a replacement, so the best he could do was keep his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he stood on the porch, evaluating his next move.
He had to get inside somewhere, and not just for fear whoever had stalked him earlier was still around. It was getting too cold for him to safely risk sleeping outside. But Midnight was out of the question…
He nibbled on his lower lip, torn.
It was the only other place around, and if he wasn’t quick about it, they’d be booked solid as well. He needed to make a choice, even an impossible one such as this. Stay out and risk freezing to death? Or break a personal rule?
Hunter glanced down at himself, happily noting that he was a hot mess looks-wise. Only someone desperate and possibly blind would be interested in getting with him tonight. For good measure, he tugged on his collar and gave it a sniff. The fishy smell from work was still very present, it was just the crowd hadn’t been able to smell it with him moving. The second he stood still, it would no doubt permeate whatever area he was in. That was good.
