Chapter Nine
October 8th, 2005 – Saturday, 5:28am
Kerum shouts from behind me as the shadows swirl around my cold body. Their tendrils grip my arms and legs, forcing me to obey their every movement. Mattheo stares up at me with wet eyes through thick lashes. His knees are cut up as he’s knelt on the glass covered grass. Corey and James kneel on either side of him, their own eyes flooding as their bodies shake uncontrollably.
“F-Find the control,” Mattheo grunts out. His eyes widen as claws extend from my fingertips. “Find it, Rylan. He doesn’t win. He can’t win.”
“Who is He?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own.
The shadows pull my arm back, almost as if I’m their little puppet. With one forced swipe, James begins gurgling as he paws at his opened throat. His body falls to the floor, unmoving.
“R-Rylan, stop!” Mattheo shouts.
Corey whimpers next to him while staring at the floor, his shaking hands gripping the grass. I want to grab him and tell him it’s just a nightmare, that he’ll wake up soon, but I can’t. My mouth won’t even open to comfort him.
I’m forced to grab his neck. He doesn’t even get the chance to cry as my claws dig into his throat and rip out the chunk of flesh. Hot blood spills over my hand and wrist before letting go and watching his lifeless body spasm on the ground.
Mattheo jumps at me, but my hand catches his throat like it had Corey’s.
“Do it!” He spits out at me. “Kill me, because I don’t want this side of you anymore. This isn’t who you are, Rylan. I’m your friend. James and C-Corey were your friends! We care about you!”
With a simple squeeze, Mattheo’s neck snaps like a twig in an empty forest. His body falls to the ground, joining what were once my friends. The three lifeless bodies before me are nothing more than empty shells now. The cold eats away at me from the inside as the shadows slowly release their hold on me.
I murdered them.
“Rylan,” A soft voice whispers. “Rylan.”
Through hooded and pooled eyes, I glance up at the approaching figure. A silhouette of a woman is closer now. Her hands reach out for me, but I tuck mine under my legs, not wanting to hurt her as well.
“Come here, sweetie.” The woman beckons me toward her. “Come to Momma.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I nearly vomit from the twisting in my stomach. “Mom?”
The shadows gather around her now, circling her outline like vultures circling a dying animal. The shadow hand wraps it dark fingers around her throat from behind and slash with their own claws. I don’t even need to see the blood to know that it’s spilling down the front of her body.
I slam my fist into the ground and scream in pain as my claws dig through the dirt. She can’t be gone. I lost her and my only friends. I have nothing. I’m alone.
“You’ve always been alone,” the shadow whispers as its hand wraps around my throat. “But now, you have me.”
Soft covers are yanked from my sweat clad body and I’m scrambling to grab ahold of something, anything. James stands at the side of my bed now, duvet in hand, while Mattheo and Corey are sitting up in their own beds. They all three stare at me, concerned and confused. Nothing like the lifeless eyes from before.
Sweat drips from my aching body and the chill circulating the room only has me trembling more. I now notice that my breathing is coming out in labored gasps of air. The raising of hair on the back of my neck and trembling in my limbs are tell-tale signs of waking from a night terror.
“I’m fine,” I rasp. “Just a- Just a bad dream, is all.”
James lays the damp cover back over my shaking frame but doesn’t leave my side. “You know you can talk to us about things, right? Anything.”
Heat rushes through me at his words, but not from anger. I have no idea what I might’ve said during one of my nightly tantrums, but it couldn’t have been nice things. Shaking my head now, I wave him off before turning over under the covers. Hiding my face from them is the only way to keep from breaking down and trusting them enough with every dark thought rampaging through my unstable mind.
“Just go back to sleep,” I mutter under my panting. “I’m fine.””
October 10th, 2005 – Monday, 6:45am
The air is rigid, and the ground beneath me is slowly beginning to spin. Off in the distance I can barely make out the muffled sounds of birds in the woods and small animals moving around. Leaves crunch and twigs snap with each movement and grazing motion. My fingers dig deeper into the earth, letting the cool and damp dirt coat my heated skin.
Kerum steps closer, his shoes directly under my gaze now. “You have to pin your focus on the specific part you’re wishing to change.”
“I’m trying.” The words are guttural and nothing more than growls of protest. “It’s hard.”
“Life is hard, Rylan, but that doesn’t mean you drop to your knees and give up.” He crouches until he can bend to the side and stare into my eyes. “Your eyes are slowly bleeding into shifter vision. I’d say we focus on eyesight for a moment.” Kerum stands and begins urging me to my feet. “I want you to focus on the academy. There’s a brick on the left side of the building, closer to the front office archway, that is a different color than the rest. I’d like you to tell me what color it is.”
“I can’t,” I pant out.
“And why not?”
“It’s too far away.”
Standing straight now, I notice that Kerum’s arm are crossed, and his face is stern. “It’s not too far for a Lycan. Now, focus.”
Aggravated, I focus on the building now. Dark colored brown bricks are all I see. Near the left side archway, the one that leads to the main office area, the wall of colored bricks look the exact same. There’s nothing different or anything that stands out.
“I- I can’t.”
I can hear Kerum sighing from behind me. “You can. The spot that you’re focusing on, strain yourself to see it clearer. There will be some discomfort at first, but it will fade over time the more you use it.”
I struggle to keep from moving forward, and stare at the section of brick he had mentioned before. Dots begin to appear around the edges of my vision and a pounding sensation begins in my head. My brain feels as though it has its own, violently strong, heartbeat. Tension forms at the forefront of my mind until something flickers just around the edges. Everything seems to be magnified the harder I focus.
A mixture of greens and hues of yellow blend together until the bricks I had been so focused on now seem as though they’re directly in front of me. The sight is- It’s insane. Each speck of dust clinging to the discolored bricks is now heightened, easily detectable. Right where Kerum had said it would be, a dark blue brick is unmistakable among the rest of the brown hued bricks.
Slowly, I reel myself back to where I’m standing. My vision eases up and so does the pounding in my head. “Blue,” I pant out. The ground shakes now as I fall back to my knees. “It’s blue.”
“Excellent work, Rylan.” Kerum now crouches down to my level, a sturdy hand on my shoulder. “Not many could have done what you have so easily.”
“Easily?” There’s a hilt in my voice
He smiles now. “Mastering something like control over your senses without shifting is something that even older Lycan’s struggle with. Why, even Nicholas struggles with it.”
“Really?” It’s hard to believe that someone like Nicholas would struggle with controlling his senses. Mattheo had said he even fought in a war. “That’s a bit hard to believe.”
“No, really.” Kerum helps me to my feet now. “To this day Nicholas is still unable to use eyesight as well as other Lycan’s. I struggle with using my claws, and Professor Dawes-” He stops himself short. “Well, perhaps ousting Lenora to her patient is a horrid idea.”
He might be right about that. Knowing that even the adults struggle though helps a lot. This isn’t something I’m going to just get overnight, and now the thought doesn’t seem like such a big deal.
“Now-” Kerum walks away from me while clapping once. “- it’s time to focus on another aspect of training. Claws.”
I tilt my head. “Someone who can’t even use their own claws is going to teach me how to use mine?”
“Ouch,” he breathes out playfully. “On with the exercise. Now, I’d like you to focus on your hand. Feel yourself extending-”
The claws in both of my hands slowly begin extending from my fingertips. There’s pain, slight discomfort, but the feeling is becoming something natural. Since the hexstone from Helman’s desk, I’ve been practicing using my claws on and off every now and then. It seems to have paid off considering the look on the professor’s face right now.
Kerum’s eyes squint as they take in my fully extended claws before staring at my face now. I can’t even attempt to hide the smirk forming on my lips.
“Training is over for today. I shall see you in class.”
A small laugh escapes my lips as Kerum is packing his training equipment. Without another word, the professor leaves the field and I’m left all alone. A small part of me wonders if I hurt his feelings, but then again, I don’t think he could be to upset that I’m learning a small form of control over my senses.
Entering through the archway, my skin begins to itch. Something about being indoors still doesn’t sit well with whatever is lurking inside of me. It’s always been this way though, the irritation of being behind closed doors and not outside under the clouds. Having these open archways really does help things.
Down the hall, standing and waiting just outside of the English classroom, are the boys. James has an unusual outfit choice. Normally, he would sport some khaki’s and a nice, pressed polo, but not today. He looks as though he’s raided Mattheo’s closet, wearing a black sweater and dark washed jeans that have clearly been worn for a couple of years. Maybe I’m not the only one wearing the kid’s clothes anymore.
Mattheo’s head pops up now that I’m closer and he seems to visibly relax once his eyes land on me. “Finally. We’ve been waiting forever.”
“Before we go anywhere-” I hold up a hand before pointing at James. “What happened to you?”
James glances at his own outfit before rolling his eyes. “I- I don’t know. I just thought that I would- I don’t know, try a new style.”
I narrow my gaze. “By wearing Mattheo’s clothes?”
“What?” He looks offended now. “You think you’re the only one who can wear his clothes? I’ll have you know that even Corey wears Matt’s underwear at times. And sometimes he even wears them as a nightcap.”
“What!” Corey smacks James on the back. “I do not, James.”
Mattheo rolls his eyes now before shoving James and Corey into the classroom. “Get inside, idiots.”
I follow behind the three of them. Something really is off with James today. Since that day in Amaya’s room, he’s been avoidant of anything involving her. He had been dodging her in the hallways and forcing us to lie when it came to his whereabouts. Thankfully, Mattheo put an end to it last night. He made sure to let the boy know that none of us were covering for him anymore and that whatever his problem was, he’d have to deal with it head-on. I don’t think this is what Mattheo had in mind though.
James fumbles as he attempts to lean on Amaya’s desk now. A shaky hand struggles to keep his body weight as he gives her a strained look. He looks constipated.
“Uh, hey there-” James slips and falls to the floor. He struggles, but eventually gets himself back up and now stares at the red head. “A-Amaya.”
Amaya has wide eyes now as she takes in James’ frazzled exterior. “Uh, hi, James. Is everything okay?” Bright green eyes now trail over his questionable wardrobe. “And are you wearing King’s clothes?”
There’s a slag in his shoulders now before he sighs heavily. The kid walks to his usual seat, right next to Mattheo. I take my seat next to Corey, just behind Minnie. Corey begins flicking small shreds of paper balls towards the back of Amaya’s head. The red head gives him one good glare and he stops his shenanigans.
“Black polish suits you,” Corey whispers from beside me. “You think ’Maya will paint mine tonight?”
“I’m sure she would, if you asked her.”
From in front of us, Amaya’s two long braids flip flop as she shakes her head at Corey’s unspoken request. He frowns now before laying his head on the desk.
“But I don’t know how to paint my nails,” Corey whines.
I give his back one good pat before mumbling, “Probably should’ve thought about that before tossing stuff at her.”
Now, Amaya nods slowly. Minnie begins giggling from next to her. Corey groans now before tapping his head against the desk. I can’t even feel bad for him. He brought this on himself.
Professor Kerum stands at the front of the room now. His dress shirt is tucked neatly, and his brown dress pants have two neat creases in them. He doesn’t look as though we just spent the last hour training. Probably because he barely does anything to break a single sweat.
“Ah, what a beautifully bright morning.” Kerum smiles widely with his hands clasped in front of him. “I trust each of you completed your homework on adjectives.”
No one raises a hand or murmurs a single reply. The professor chuckles awkwardly before clearing his throat. “Right. Well, perhaps it would do us well to start with a refresher course. Ah, yes. Mister King, would you be kind enough to explain the definition of an adjective.”
Kerum waits patiently before Mattheo finally sighs out, “I have no clue, Professor.”
“Come now, Mattheo.” Kerum squats next to him now. “Surely, you must know something relative to adjectives.”
Mattheo grins before saying with mock cheer, “Afraid not, Sir.” He then frowns.
Amaya’s hand shoots up into the air. She grunts as she stretches her shoulder, and I can almost hear the strain from where I’m sitting. She’ll dislocate it soon if Kerum doesn’t notice her.
With reluctance, Kerum turns himself away from a still frowning Mattheo, and settles his gaze on Amaya. “Yes, Miss Porter. Would you care to answer for Mister King?”
“Thank you, sir. An adjective is a word that can be used to describe a noun or pronoun.”
“That is correct, Miss Porter.” Kerum nods at her before motioning towards the front of the room. “This semester will be focused entirely on adjectives, nouns, pronouns, and how they can be used to create the most magnificent sentences.”
A high-pitched siren sounds in the classroom now. The sound isn’t much different from the one in the woods, only this one doesn’t seem to scramble my brain. Students begin shuffling about and rushing for the underpart of their desks. So, naturally, I follow after them.
“I would like you all to remain calm,” Kerum says over the whistling noise. “This is only a drill, I assure you. Should this have been an actual emergency, the academy would have reacted to protect us accordingly. Oh, and please do study over your worksheets on adjectives while stuck under your desks.”
Cramped under a desk with Corey is not how I pictured my morning going, but here I am. As much as I attempt to keep distance between us, Corey seems to be persistent on sticking close. His side is stuck to mine while our legs are almost on top of one another.
“And here I thought you didn’t like to be touched,” Minnie giggles out.
Glaring at her now, I growl out, “I don’t. Corey just doesn’t understand personal space.”
Corey’s shoulders go slack, and another growl comes from the front of the room now. “Knock it off, Rylan.”
Mattheo’s threat is quiet, but it still speaks volumes. Judging by the droop in Corey’s shoulders and the lack of snark coming from him, I’d say I hurt his feelings. Knowing he’s right, I begrudgingly smooth my legs out, letting Corey’s rest on top of mine easily. He looks less cramped now as he relaxes his own body against mine.
“Thanks,” Corey mumbles.
“Why are we having a drill anyways?” I ask Amaya specifically, attempting to ignore the sudden itch on my legs.
There are a few murmurs from some of the other students, murmurs about me being new to all of this Lycan stuff.
“How can he not know?”
“Imagine pretending to be clueless just to get closer to Amaya Porter.”
“I bet he’s an invalid- Yeah, just like Fletcher said.”
Letting their words roll off me, I keep my attention on Amaya. She smiles at me, reassuring me with her eyes that she knows the truth; I am new to all of this.
“It’s for the hunters,” she explains.
“H-Hunters?” The itching sensation on my legs creep up towards my stomach now. “Are you saying we’re hunted?”
Corey chuckles now. “Well, yeah. We’re giant beasts that are almost unstoppable. Of course, we’re hunted.”
“I don’t understand-”
Amaya says, “We’re only hunted by one thing and that’s the hunters. They’re a group of men and women who believe that all supernatural creatures are dangerous, no matter our level of humanity. They used to be known as the sealgair, but some younger person decided ‘hunters’ would be a better suited name. They really only affect the vampires now, though.”
“V-Vampires?”
“Gods!” Corey exclaims. “He just lost a lot of color.”
“You didn’t, uh, know about vampires already?” Amaya questions. I shake my head and she sighs. “Leave it to Professor Grey to not mention anything to you about other creatures similar to us.”
“Woah, woah-” Corey holds his hands out. “Similar to us? I don’t think so! We’re definitely better than those undead vein-poppers.”
“Corey!” Amaya then scolds him, “They are not undead. They were born vampires just as much as we were born wolves. They can’t help it any more than we can.”
“So you say,” Corey insists. “My dad says they’ve had it out for us for years though. Says we’re a bunch of wild animals that murder everything we see.”
“And let them talk,” Minnie replies. “Just because they say it doesn’t mean it’s true. We know the truth and that’s all that matters.”
“The truth about what exactly?” I ask her.
She looks at Amaya, but her friend only waves it back towards her. Minnie then finally explains, “Back in the days of the original Lycan, there was a mishap with the vampires. They claim we murdered one of their own, but the truth is, we rescued her. She had confided in an alpha and he took pity on her, saving her from her loveless marriage. He took her and her daughter on as part of his pack, unknowingly creating a rift between our two species.”
“Well, why couldn’t she just come out and say that she’s fine?” It seems the most logical answer.
“She would’ve, had she not died that night.” Amaya’s voice dips down. “Someone had murdered her, but it wasn’t the Lycan’s.”
“The drill is over now, children,” Kerum announces. “I expect two homework assignments each from all of you on the way adjectives can be used to better a rather droll sentence.”
Now that the whistle has stopped and everyone is making their way towards the exit, my body physically relaxes. Being that close to Corey was painful, but it’s over now. My entire body is under attack as the boys jump onto my back, sending all four of us into a pile on the floor. They seem to be laughing now from on top of me and there’s nothing I can do about the situation I’m seemingly stuck in.
“Hey,” Corey grunts out. “Did you guys hear that there was another murder in town this past weekend?”
“What?” James questions. “Who was it?”
“Another kid?” Mattheo asks.
“Nah,” Corey groans from on top of me. “It was another adult.”
Another adult. I never considered the possibility that everyone here at school would’ve heard about Noah being murdered. I mean, surely, they would know though because I’m an orphan. An orphan that joined the school the same day that the murder happened.
“Excuse me,” a mousey voice inquires. “Would Rylan happen to be under there somewhere?”
Focusing on strength just like I had my eyesight this morning, I easily launch the boys backwards and towards the open classroom doorway. They complain in the background now about how rough I was with them.
Faye stands in front of me, her eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in surprise. “Rylan. I was hoping to catch you before next class.”
“What is it?” I ask roughly.
Despite the bite in my tone, she still smiles. “It’s about math class. I was hoping we could sit together for a change.”
“We’re already lab partners in science,” I deadpan.
Her eyes grow even wider. “Oh, yeah. I mean, I know that. I was just hoping that we could- I mean-”
I raise my hand now, attempting to shush her. If I don’t stop her now, she’ll end up raving and then crying and then raving some more. “Faye, it’s fine. You’ll have to go ask Amaya though. Her and I normally sit next to each other.”
Faye smiles now, beaming her perfectly straight and white teeth at me before rushing off to find Amaya at the end of the hallway. Her squealing can be heard from even this far, and that’s without enhanced hearing.
The boys gather around me now, staring off after Faye just as I was. James tosses an arm around my shoulder while whistling low. “I didn’t realize you and female Finley were so close.”
“What- Now you’re into girls all of a sudden?” Corey asks with his arms crossed. “Since when?”
My skin feels tight now. “I’m not. I mean-” Heat spreads through my chest now, creeping up onto my cheeks. “I- I like girls! I just don’t like- Look, she’s just some ditzy girl in my science class. The fact that she’s Finely’s sister means nothing.”
Mattheo hums now. “I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with it. I’m sure that you only think she’s some ditzy little girl in your class.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, Rylan.” James now rubs his head against my backside, wiping fake tears on my sweater- Mattheo’s sweater. “You filthy cheater!”
Corey throws himself at my feet now while clinging to my legs. “How could you do this to us, Ry? Cheating with a Finley!”
I can’t seem to shake either of them off now and panic sets in. A quick glance at Mattheo and I see him just staring at us three. “Mattheo, do something.”
He sighs before patting my shoulder. “You shouldn’t have cheated on us. Now, you must deal with the consequences.”
He walks away, laughing to himself. Both legs are weighed now as James grabs ahold of the other one. He and Corey both begin pleading with me to never let my eyes wander to another girl again. No matter how much I threaten, growl, or shake at them, they don’t budge. It’s as if they’re no longer worried about me hurting them. They’ve lost their minds.
Down the hall, Amaya, Minnie, and Faye are all giggling at what I’m going through. Even pleading with my eyes doesn’t spark any sympathy from Amaya. She only rolls her eyes, knocks a braid over her shoulder, and walks away from the scene. Minnie follows after her while dragging a still smiling Faye along with her, leaving me completely alone with these idiots.
Monday, 1:15pm
Students are still settling in as we wait patiently for Professor Dawes to make an appearance. Faye keeps messing with some kind of notebook, fidgeting with it. Amaya keeps turning to give me an apologetic look, but I ignore her. She thought that I had wanted the alone time with Faye, but she was sorely mistaken.
Professor Dawes finally enters the classroom, her velvet navy-blue gown flowing behind her, and her long hair pinned up in a bun. She’s what you would imagine when anyone says the word elegant.
“Good afternoon, children,” she greets us. “Before class begins, there has been a rumor that I would like to address. As many of you may know, a man was sadly murdered this past weekend in the town just down the hill.” Some of the students around me begin whispering now. Faye, however, stays quiet. “I’m sure many of you have some questions and concerns, but I assure you that they will be answered during my usual office hours. Should any of you feel the need to reach out with those questions or concerns, please do feel free to stop by.”
Professor Dawes now motions towards the chalkboard behind her, explaining what new segment we’ll be working on. My mind is stuck on the murder though. This past weekend? A deep part of me worries now that I may have done it. I have been having more night terrors than usual lately. I had thought it was my brain processing what I had done to Noah, but now I’m not so sure.
What if I’m sleep-murdering?
“Did you know that we’ll be learning how to make a swift brew in class this week?” Faye asks.
Her wide eyes are on me, locking me in place and daring me to ignore her question. Deep down, once you get passed the smiling and ditzy behavior, she’s kind of scary. “Uh, what is a swift brew?”
“It’s a brew that you can drink to become super-fast.” She places her notebook down now and turns to a page with a small picture on it. She had drawn a scene showing a stick person drinking a bottle of liquid and then a wolf running fast. “I’ve never had one before and I’m really excited for it. So, please show up and be ready for it.”
“I always show up to class,” I defend myself. “You’re the one who showed up out of nowhere.”
“I already told you-”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off. “Your mom’s not very bright. Got it.”
By the time the words leave my lips it’s too late to take them back. Faye’s wide eyes become overwhelmed with tears and her bottom lip wobbles. Without another word, she gets up from the table and rushes towards the door. The crack of the door echoes as Professor Dawes glances between where Faye had disappeared and where I’m sitting.
What to do now; Stay here and receive a lecture from Dawes, or chase down Faye and apologize for hurting her, again?
“Mister Evans, where are you going?” Dawes calls out for me, but I ignore her. “Mister Evans- Rylan! You and Miss Finley come back this instant.”
The door thwacks shut behind me, silencing her empty threats of detention. I already have one this weekend, so what’s one more. The hallway is quiet, empty. Not many students roam the halls during class hours, so it’s to be expected, but it’s still a bit creepy.
The old portraits hanging on the brick walls are eerie. Corey had said he found my mother’s portrait hanging in the hallway near the front office, but that it wasn’t clawed through like that until recently. There’s no need for the portrait to be in perfect condition. I don’t need to see Noah’s face next to hers. The sight of her without the man near her helps relax my mind a bit. It gives me a false security that she was never hurt by him like I was, even if I know it’s unlikely.
“...suppose he knows, do you?”
“...way Kerum would have told him. We have to trust...”
Muffled conversation can be heard through the large wooden door leading to the faculty lounge. Professors Bingum and Lorne are discussing something, not-so-quietly. In their defense, all students should be in class right now and not roaming the halls.
On steady feet, I make my way closer to the door. Leaning on the bricks next to it, I steal a quick glance inside the room. Professor Lorne’s tall figure looms over the table in the middle of the room, dark hair slicked back, and calm eyes focused solely on the cup in front of him. Professor Bingum has her blonde curls pinned up high on her heart-shaped head and her brown eyes are distant as she stares out of the window across the room. Neither seem to sense my presence at all, too focused on their discussion to realize that a child is nearby.
Professor Lorne slowly reaches out and pats Bingum on the arm, startling her. “Trusting Kerum is the only thing we can do right now, Beverly.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Max.” Professor Bingum seems angered now, swiping her arm out of Lorne’s reach. “You, him, and Lenora are strong enough to defend this school and its students. I’m a brown fur.” Her hand trembles now. “Should the murders truly be orchestrated by Lorcan, I will be the first teacher to die.”
Professor Lorne sighs now before leaning back in his chair. “Bev, there’s no telling if the party responsible is Lorcan. Even if the signs or evidence were to point in his direction, he’s dead- Has been for twelve years now.”
“And the news of his son attending our school.” She gives him an accusing stare. “What of that, Max? Should we sit by and watch as his son, who no doubt has his father’s genes, walks around this school picking out his future victims? By his fifth year there will be no more grey furs, no more brown furs. There will be a repeat of history should we let the little beast continue-”
Professor Lorne slams his fist on the table, causing Bingum and I both to jump in surprise. “The child is nothing more than just that, a child. We made a promise, Beverly. Who is to say he didn’t receive his mother’s genes? We do not use something like fear to dictate how we treat our students. This child is someone who needs us just as much as the others do.”
“You can’t even say his name,” Professor Bingum seethes. “Yet you sit here, high and mighty, claiming you feel no fear of him. You know as well as I just how quick it was for Lorcan to destroy this school. And you know just how quick his son will as well.”
A clanging sound off in the distance draws my attention from the two arguing professors. Whoever this Lorcan person is will have to wait until after I’ve found Faye. Walking through the library doors, I can’t help but wonder now about the kid they had been arguing about. This kid is the son of someone that the teachers fear, even enough to fear his kid. A little kid. I’ve only taken one life, and it was someone who deserved it. I couldn’t imagine killing someone based only on their fur color. Even if I wasn’t a grey, I still wouldn’t look down on someone for being one.
Faye sits at one of the tables in the library. Her head is on the desk and her back shakes slightly with each intake and release of breath. Blonde spills over her back and onto the wooden desk, two strands of braids that seem to have been sloppily added are also splayed on the tabletop.
I hurt her feelings badly with just one sentence. Either she’s very sensitive or I really am a monster. Admittedly, probably a bit of both.
Taking a seat next to her, I can’t help but inhale a lungful of something nice, something calming. The smell of vanilla extract and freshly harvested honey lingers in the air. I’m not sure which scent is the most calming, but both seem to be doing wonders for my thumping heart in my tightened chest. The same scents have come and gone around the school lately, but I’ve not had the urge to seek them out before now.
Shaking my head, I breathe through my mouth now. My focus has to be on apologizing to Faye first. I can hunt down whatever they are later.
“Faye.” Keeping my voice as soft as possible does nothing. Faye still jumps in surprise and stares at me with wide eyes. “Hey-” I hold my hands out now. “I come in peace. I- I just wanted to say sorry for what I said back in class.”
Faye’s sniffling quiets down now. “You don’t have to say sorry. You were only being honest.”
“No, Faye.” My hands suddenly occupy themselves with the hem of my sweater. “I was being a jerk. Even if the words might’ve been true, I shouldn’t have said them.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“Uh, yeah.” Watching her finally take a deep breath and not shake causes my hands to finally relax. “Are you ready to go back to class now?”
Her head tilts, reminding me of a golden retriever once more. “That wouldn’t be much fun. Professor Dawes will surely give us detention either way, right?” I nod. “Well, then I say we should just make the most out of the time we have left in here.”
Faye gets up, busying herself with collecting some books from different sections of the room. Her blonde hair bounces with each step she takes. She’s already showing no signs of having just cried her little eyes out just moments ago. This girl has some serious issues.
A loud crack sounds as she slaps the stack of books down on the table now and I immediately cringe. Somehow Miss Holstead has still yet to make an appearance. Maybe she’s busy around this time of the day.
“This should be everything we’ll need to study over swift brew,” Faye says in a matter-of-fact tone
“And why are we studying about it now if weren’t not learning about it until Wednesday?” I quirk a brow at her.
She only shrugs her shoulders before sitting back down next to me again. There’s something about this brew thing that she’s not telling me. But I guess it’s not my place to pester the truth out of her. I have my own secrets that I’d like to keep to myself.
Faye begins flipping through the stack of books, scattering some of them around the table in the process. Each book is old and covered with worn leather. The musty smell is nice but mixed with the vanilla and honey scent from before, it’s mouthwatering.
“What is that?” I ask aloud.
Faye glances at me, but her focus is mainly on the books. “What’s what?”
“That smell.”
She then faces me. “I smell old books and-” She inhales deeply. “-lavender, I think.”
I shake my head now. “No, I- I smell vanilla and-” I stop now. What if she thinks I’m completely nuts for smelling something that isn’t near us? Wait- This is Faye. She’s as nuts as a person can get. “I smell vanilla and honey.”
Her eyes light up now. “Oh, that’s probably my shampoo. The honey part, anyway.” She then scoots closer and grabs a handful of her hair. The hair is then shoved into my face. “Here, smell and see for yourself.”
Her proximity is alarming, but I am tempted to smell her hair. Letting myself inhale deeply, the same honey and vanilla scent fill my nostrils. A soft hum rumbles through my chest. It’s as if someone has offered me a giant bag of my favorite candy to snack on. Pushing myself back from her, I force my mind to stay here in reality. So many thoughts had been racing through my head just now. One of them was terrifying; Faye pinned to the floor with me ripping her throat out like a monster covered in fur.
Faye doesn’t even bother with talking much after that. Her focus has been on the books in front of us for the past thirty minutes. Another minute or so ticks by and I still can’t shake the unnerving image from my mind. The little girl next to me never even batted an eyelash, not knowing the absolute danger she’s really in.
Maybe me and Lorcan’s kid might have something in common after all. We’re both the offspring of monsters.
“Hey, Rylan.” Faye props her head on her hand, elbow cemented to the table. “Could I ask you a serious question?”
Her tone worries me. “Uh, I guess.”
“Were you trying to hurt Fletcher that day in the dining hall, or was it an accident?” Her eyes flick to the table as she mumbles, “I guess what I mean is-” She looks at me again, her eyes watered now. “Were you two fighting again?”
“Ah, Faye.” I lean back in my chair. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I also don’t want her to think badly of her brother. “We, uh- Finley- Flecther and I just had a bit of a disagreement is all. I stepped in between him and Corey, and I ended up catching a punch. Everything after that was an accident. I didn’t want to hurt him, believe it or not.”
Faye seems satisfied with my answer. “Fletcher and the other boys usually fight with one another. My brother- He can get a bit aggressive sometimes, but it’s not his fault.”
“Is it because he’s always so sick?” I ask her.
Her eyes widen and her bottom lip trembles. I quickly throw my hands up. “Hey, hey. I was only asking to confirm. I already told you; I would never tell anyone else about that.” I lean back in my seat again. “I guess I’m just trying to learn a bit more about your brother.”
She calms down, taking another deep breath to steady herself. “Y-Yeah, it’s because he’s always s-sick. He tries to seem big and tough, you know, but when he’s in flesh form, he has almost no strength.”
My hand itches as it attempts to pat her arm, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Letting it fall back to my side, I give her a half-hearted smile. “Once again, your secrets safe with me.”
And it is.
If the boys were to know that about Finley, they wouldn’t hesitate to constantly start things with him while not shifted. Knowing he’s extremely weak while not shifted will help me keep better control of myself the next time he starts stuff. I don’t want to kill him, and I know that the right amount of force behind just one punch could do it. I don’t need another death on my record.