AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I follow his directions, then pull back on the string as he had when he shot the tree.
“Don’t rush it, my lady.”
My skin crawls again, but this time it’s his words, not his touch, providing the discomfort. It’s a mockery of not having reached the age to receive the title. “Never call me that.”
He steps close to me, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on my neck. “Don’t call me a phaloc, and we’ve got a deal.” He moves back slightly, the whisper of him still dancing across my skin. “You’re one of us now. Either that, or you’re dead. I suggest you stop acting like you wipe your ass with satin.”
“And what?” I spin around to face him, still holding the bow and arrow in my hands. “Act like the class system doesn’t matter? Act like your uncouth lifestyle didn’t cause my mother’s death? Because it did.” Feeling the weight of the last week crashing down on me, I let the arrow fly over his shoulder, aiming it nowhere in particular.
The wayward projectile hits a target in the shadows.
I’m overcome with dizziness when I realize it’s a person. He drops to one knee and yanks the shaft from his chest, tossing it to the side.
“Vampire,” Bastian hisses. “That was an iron tip, not silver.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
He doesn’t have time to answer. The monster is suddenly three feet in front of us, baring his fangs. He’s paler than any of the people in the city, though shockingly beautiful. His golden-brown hair catches on a wayward breeze as he holds his nose in the air.
“What have you brought us, Bastian Hale?” The creature circles me, bending his face close to my neck. The feeling is the complete opposite of the tickle of Bastian’s breath.
I’m paralyzed with fear.
“Fresh blood before the morning rays?” He lifts my arm, inspecting my wrist with his blood-red eyes. “I always took you for the intelligent one.”
Bastian’s body is tense, his hand moving to the flap of his coat. “Touch her and die.”
The creature laughs, his fingernail running along my neck as I stiffen. Never in my life did I think I’d meet my demise at the hands of a mythical creature. If the stories are true, the vampire is too fast and strong for us to escape. He’ll drain every drop of our blood before the first sun rays touch the tops of the trees.
“Do you have a fondness for this one, Bastian?” The vampire continues to circle me, raking his eyes from my head down to my toes. “The ones with auburn hair always got me when I had a heart that cared.”
“Honestly, I couldn’t care less if she lives or dies.” Bastian’s hand grasps something beneath his coat, but his attention is on the beast. “But having you kill my trainees is not a precedent I want to establish.” Swiftly, a flash of silver is in his hand before it hurdles through the air, burying itself in the vampire’s chest.
Veins of deep blue etch the creature’s face as he clutches his throat. Like a crumbling statue, his face cracks apart and his entire body collapses to the ground into a pile of dust.
“As I was saying.” Bastian crouches and removes his dagger from the pile, wiping it clean of vampire ash on his pant leg. Several strands have tugged loose from the tie holding back his hair, but other than that, he appears unaffected. “You need to be ready for anything. We watch out for each other, but you never know when they’ll catch you alone.”
My fingers are numb on the handle of the bow as it shakes in my hand. Without my trainer, I’d be dead. After watching Grayson and Bastian take down supernatural beasts, I’ve change my viewpoint on my upbringing. Teachers in Avren filled my days with what I now call soft skills—etiquette, philosophy, and, in my case, how to craft a killer ballgown. Nothing prepared Citizens for werewolves and vampires.
He sighs as a tear rolls down my cheek. “You’re weak. Your mother died. And yes, you witnessed a werewolf attack.” The toe of his boot kicks at the pile of ash. “But this was nothing. I had it all under control.” He removes a dirty rag from his sack and hands it to me. “Wipe your tears. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
I throw it back at him, wearing my tear-stained cheeks like a badge of courage for what I’m about to say. “Maybe I’m weak, but I’m compassionate, which I can’t say about you. From the moment Gray brought me home, you and Everleigh have been nothing but horrid. Here in the wilderness, you learn to survive. In Avren, we learn to love.”
Bastian’s eyes flash, his fingers trailing along a silver chain around his neck. He stares into a far-off place before responding. “Ejecting orphans and the deaf, like Levi, is not love. It’s building a society of people who think, act, and look just like you. The depths of my love have run through this land without ceasing—a raging river reaching to the inner workings of my soul. You know nothing about me or my people, so stop spouting your self-righteous crap.” He glares at the bow. “We’re done with our lesson today.”
“You call that a lesson?” I raise the weapon, determined to glean a bit of his knowledge. I don’t let his rant affect me, knowing he’s wrong and I’m right. “A warrior like you giving up so easily on a lost cause like me?”
He grumbles more obscenities under his breath, stooping to pick up his sack. “I’m not giving up. Others are waiting for me in the Grove. Are you coming?”
I need to jog to keep up with his long strides as he marches through the forest, unhindered by the threat of Supes with daylight streaming through the trees. My senses absorb the faint whisper of smoke that lingers in the air, hanging in the canopy like floating gossamer. Birds call out to each other with unfamiliar songs. They swoop from tree to tree above us, alighting on branches, their keen eyes following our path. Tiny land creatures, no bigger than birds, scurry across the forest floor to climb the nearest tree. The fascination with the world around me alongside my shredded emotions from my time with Bastian have my head spinning.
Bastian seems unaffected by the wondrous sights around us, more intent on reaching our destination.
I remain quiet, more annoyed by my companion’s heavy boots than anything else he said to me today. To sit on the forest floor and let my senses absorb this forested world would be heaven. But according to Bastian, there isn’t time.
The smoke thickens as we approach the Grove—a circle of grass with four or five cottages surrounding it. Each home has a chimney with thick, gray smoke rising to the upper reaches of the trees. A group of people assemble outside a cottage, each decked out in fighting gear and holding a weapon.
“Bastian.” A woman with long blonde hair braided down her back approaches, carrying a bow like mine. A wide smile is on her lips until she flicks her gaze at me. “Who’s this?”
