Chapter 5
I OVERSLEPT THE FOLLOWING MORNING AND MISSED my first two classes. It kind of worked out, since I didn’t have to face Olivia after trying to choke her the day before, but the exhaustion from the previous night continued to drag at me. I spent the break before my afternoon classes arguing with Seth.
“What is your deal?” He pushed his chair back.
“I’ve already told you.” I glanced around the sparsely populated common room. It was better than eating in the cafeteria where everyone stared at us. “I know you knew about Lucian’s plan to put me in the Apollyon Relocation Program.”
Seth groaned. “Okay. Fine. He may have mentioned it. So what? It’s a smart idea.”
“It’s not a smart idea, Seth. I need to graduate, not go into hiding.” I looked down at my barely touched cold-cut sub. My stomach turned over. “I’m not going to run.”
He leaned back in the chair, lacing his hands behind his head. “Lucian does have your best interests in mind.”
“Oh, gods. Do not start with the Lucian crap. You don’t know him like I do.”
“People change, Alex. He may have been a giant douche before, but he’s changed.”
I leveled a look at him, and suddenly, I didn’t even know why I was arguing. My shoulders slumped. “What is the point, anyway?”
Seth frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” I toyed with my straw.
He leaned forward, nudging my plate. “You should eat more.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I snapped.
He held up his hands, sitting back. “Simmer down, cuddle-bunny.”
“All of this is your fault, anyway.”
Seth snorted. “How is this my fault?”
I scowled. “No one wants to kill you, but you’re the one who’ll have the potential to wipe out the entire Olympian Court. But everyone is like, ‘Let’s kill the one who isn’t doing anything!’ And you canjust skip off into the sunset while I’m dead.”
His lips twitched again. “I wouldn’t skip off if you were dead. I’d be sad.”
“You’d be sad because you wouldn’t be the God Killer.” I picked up my sub, turning it over slowly. “Olivia hates me.”
“Alex…”
“What?” I looked up. “She does, because I let Caleb die.”
His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t let Caleb die, Alex.”
I sighed, suddenly wanting to cry. It was official: I was certifiably whacked out today. “I know. I miss her.”
“Have you tried talking to her?” His eyes widened at my look. He motioned at the sub. “Eat.”
Grudgingly, I took a huge, sloppy bite.
Seth arched a brow as he watched me. “Hungry?”
I swallowed. The food formed a heavy lump in my stomach. “No.”
We didn’t talk for a few minutes. Without wanting to, I turned over my left hand and looked at where the staple-shaped rune glowed softly. “Did… did you do this on purpose?”
“What? The rune?” He took my hand, holding it so my palm faced up. “No, I didn’t do it on purpose. I’ve already told you that.”
“I don’t know. You looked like you were concentrating really hard when it happened.”
“I was concentrating on your emotions.” Seth ran his thumb around the glyph, coming close to touching it. “You don’t like this, do you?”
“No,” I whispered. Another mark meant one more step toward becoming someone—something else.
“It’s natural, Alex.”
“It doesn’t feel natural.” My eyes flicked to his. “What does this one mean?”
“Strength of the gods,” he answered, surprising me. “The other one means courage of the soul.”
“Courage of the soul?” I laughed. “That doesn’t make sense.”
His hand slid to my wrist, resting his thumb over my pulse. “They are the first marks the Apollyons receive.”
My wrist seemed so small in his hand, fragile even. “Did yours come early?”
“No.”
I sighed. “What happened… between us last night?”
A wicked grin played over his lips. “Well, most kids call it making out.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I pulled my hand free and rubbed my palm over the edge of the table. “I felt it—the energy or whatever you want to call it—leaving me and going into you.”
“Did it hurt you?”
I shook my head. “It kind of felt good.”
His nostrils flared as if he smelled something he liked. Then, without any warning, he leaned over the table between us, clasped my cheeks and brought his mouth to mine. The kiss was soft, teasing, and felt really weird. Kissing last night really hadn’t counted—or at least I’d convinced myself of that. So this was the first real kiss since the Catskills, and it was a totally public display. And I was still holding the sub in my right hand. So yeah, it felt bizarre.
Seth pulled back, smiling. “I think we should do that more often, then.”
My cheeks were burning, because I knew people were staring. “Kissing?”
He laughed. “I’m all about kissing more, but I meant what happened last night.”
Out of nowhere, anger crept over me. “Why? Did you feel anything?”
One brow arched. “Oh, I felt something.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I meant when you were holding my hand and the mark appeared. Did you feel anything?”
“Nothing you apparently want me to talk about.”
“Gods.” I squeezed the sub. Globs of mayo splattered off the plastic plate. “I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.”
Seth slowly exhaled. “Are you PMSing or something? Because your mood swings are killing me.”
I stared a moment, thinking wow, did he really just go there? And then I cocked back my arm and launched the sub across the table. It hit his chest with a somewhat satisfying plop, but it was the look on his face as he jumped out of his seat that almost had me smiling. A cross between disbelief and horror marked his features as he knocked pieces of lettuce and ham off his shirt and pants.
There were only a handful of people in the common room, mostly younger pure-bloods. All of them stared, eyes wide.
Throwing a sub at the Apollyon probably wasn’t something that should be done in public. But I couldn’t help it; I laughed.
Seth’s head jerked up. His eyes were a heated, angry ocher. “Did that make you feel better?”
My eyes watered from laughing so hard. “Yeah, it kind of did.”
“You know, let’s cancel training after class for today.” His jaw flexed, cheeks flushed. “Get some rest.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
Seth opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped. Brushing off the last of the ham and cheese, he pivoted around and left. I couldn’t believe I’d just thrown my lunch at Seth. That seemed a little extreme even for me.
But it was funny.
I giggled to myself.
“Are you going to clean that up?”
Jumping a little in my seat, I looked up. Linard stepped out from behind one of the columns, eyeing the mess on the floor. “Are you, like, watching me?”
He smiled tightly. “I’m here to make sure you are safe.”
“And that is kind of creepy.” I pushed out of my seat, grabbing a napkin off my plate. I picked up what I could, but the mayo was stuck to the carpet. “Is this Lucian’s idea?”
“No.” He folded his hands behind his back. “It was Dean Andros’ request.”
I stilled. “For real?”
“For real,” he replied. “You should get going. Your next class will begin soon.”
I nodded absently, tossed my trash, and grabbed my bag. Marcus’ order surprised me. I expected Lucian to sic his Guards on me. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to his precious Apollyon. Maybe Marcus didn’t find me as distasteful as I thought he did.
Linard followed me out of the common room, keeping a discreet distance. It reminded me of the day I’d bought the spirit boats that Caleb and I had released into the sea. The memory tugged at my heart and worsened my foul mood. I was like a zombie in the rest of my classes. After a quick change into my training clothes, I walked into Gutter Fighting. Instructor Romvi looked absurdly pleased with my appearance.
I dropped my bag and leaned against the wall, pretending that I wasn’t bothered by the fact that I had no one to talk to. The last time I’d even been in this class, Caleb had still been alive.
Pressing my lips together, I let my gaze roam over the wall where the weapons were kept. I’d grown so used to this room during my practices with Aiden that it was like home to me. Standing near the wall of things meant to kill daimons with, Jackson grinned at something another half-blood said. Then he looked straight at me and smirked.
Once upon a time I’d found him hot, but somewhere between my daimon mom murdering his girlfriend’s parents—if he was actually still with Lea—and the last time I squared off with him, I’d stopped thinking so highly of him.
I held his stare until he looked away. Then I continued my perusal. Olivia stood next to Luke, tying her curly hair into a ponytail. Bruises marked the caramel-colored skin of her neck. I glanced down at my hands. I’d done that.
Gods, what had I been thinking? Guilt and shame tore through me. When I looked up, Luke was watching me. His stare wasn’t hostile or anything just… sad.
I looked away, chewing on my lip. I did miss my friends. And I really missed Caleb.
Class quickly began, and even though I was tired, I threw myself into it. I got paired with Elena for a series of cinch work and holds. Going through the various techniques, my brain was finally able to shut down. Here, in training, I didn’t think of anything. There was no sorrow or loss, no fate to deal with or father to save. I imagined this was what being a Sentinel would be like. When I’d eventually go out hunting, I wouldn’t have to think about anything other than locating daimons and killing them. Maybe that was the real reason behind wanting to be a Sentinel, because then I could go through life… and do what? Kill. Kill. And kill some more.
That wasn’t what I really wanted, deep down inside. I was just realizing that now?
Even slow on my feet, I was a bit faster than Elena. When we moved into take-downs and reversals, which consisted of getting thrown down and trying to get out of it, I was able to keep her pinned, but I was slowing down, growing weary.
She broke my hold and tipped her hips, rolling me onto my back. Staring down at me, she frowned. “Are… are you feeling okay? You look really pale.”
I really needed to Google how long the lingering effects of a cold lasted, because this was seriously getting annoying. All I wanted was a bed. Before I could respond to Elena’s question, Instructor Romvi appeared behind us. I bit back a groan.
“If you’re able to talk, perhaps you are not training hard enough.” Romvi’s pale eyes were like glaciers. He loved to terrorize me in class; I’m sure he’d missed me. “Elena, off the mats.”
She stood and slinked off, leaving me with the Instructor. Around us, students were sparring. I rolled to my feet and shifted my weight restlessly, preparing myself mentally for whatever he was going to throw at me. I turned away, placing my hands on my hips.
His hand smacked down on my shoulder. “One should never turn their back in war.”
Shrugging his grip off, I faced him. “I didn’t realize we were at war.”
Something gleamed in his eyes. “We are always at war, especially in my class.” He looked down his hawkish nose at me, which was a common practice since he was a pure-blood who’d once been a Sentinel. “Speaking of which, it is nice of you to finally join us, Alexandria. I was beginning to believe you thought training was no longer necessary.”
Several responses rolled to the tip of my tongue, but I knew better than to let them out.
He looked disappointed. “I heard that you fought during the daimon siege.”
Knowing fewer words usually ended with less of my butt being kicked, I nodded while I pictured a pegasus landing on his head and biting him in the neck.
“You also fought the furies and survived. Only warriors could claim such a feat.”
My gaze slid past him to where Olivia and Luke now stood watching me from the edge of the mats. How many times had we been in this position? But this was different, because Caleb used to be among them.
“Alexandria?”
I focused on him, mentally cringing. I should never take my eyes off Romvi when he was talking. “I did fight the furies.”
Interest sparked in his eyes. “Show me what you did.”
Caught off-guard, I took a step back. “What do you mean?”
A small smile tugged up one side of his lips. “Show me how you fought the furies.”
I dampened my lips nervously. I had no idea how I’d fought the furies and survived—only that everything had turned amber, like someone had splashed the tawny color over my eyes. “I don’t know. Everything was happening so fast.”
“You don’t know.” He raised his hand and the sleeve of his tunic-style shirt slipped up his arm, revealing the downward-turned torch tattoo. “I find that hard to believe.”
I experienced a momentary lapse of sanity. “What’s up with the tattoo?”
His jaw clenched, and I expected him to attack. But he didn’t. “Jackson!”
Loping onto the mats, Jackson came to stop and rested his hands on his narrow hips. “Sir?”
Romvi’s eyes held mine. “I want you to spar.”
I glanced at Jackson’s smiling face. What Romvi wanted me to do was show him how I’d fought the furies and survived, using Jackson to do so. It didn’t matter who I was fighting; I couldn’t show what I didn’t know.
As Romvi headed off the mats, he stopped and whispered to Jackson. Whatever he was saying brought an easy grin to Jackson’s face right before he nodded.
Wiping my hand over my clammy forehead, I slowed down my breathing and tried to ignore the fine tremors running through my legs. Even tired I could take Jackson. He was a good fighter, but I was better. I had tobe better.
“You’re going to be hurting by the end of class,” Jackson taunted, cracking his knuckles.
I raised a brow and motioned him forward with one hand. I may’ve have a serious hankering for a pillow, but I could take him.
I waited until he was only a foot away before I launched a brutal offensive. I was fast and light on my feet. He would feint in one direction to avoid a sharp thrust and end up with a sideways kick in his back. Before long, he ended up on his back, panting and swearing from a fierce spin kick.
“I’m going to be hurting?” I said, standing above him. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
Breathing harshly, he jumped onto the balls of his feet. “Wait and see, baby.”
“Baby?” I repeated. “I’m not your baby.”
Jackson didn’t respond to that. He flew into a butterfly kick, which I dodged. Those kicks were brutal. Blow after blow, we went after each other—each hit more vicious then the last. Admittedly, I was taking this a little too seriously myself. I wasn’t going easy on the douchebag. A weird kind of darkness rose in me as I blocked a series of kicks and jabs that would have brought even Aiden down. I grinned in spite of the sweat pouring off me and the way my forearms ached. I channeled all of my earlier anger into fighting Jackson.
Our sparring eventually drew the attention of the other students. I was only slightly surprised when Jackson’s fist glanced off my jaw and Instructor Romvi didn’t call the fight off. If anything, he looked like he was getting his jollies off by watching the brutal fight.
So Jackson didn’t want to play by the rules and Romvi didn’t care? Whatever. He swung his fist around again, but this time I caught his hand and twisted it backward.
Jackson broke the hold too easily, which showed that I was reaching my own limits. I turned on my heel, saw that the overhead lights flickered—or was it my eyes? — and with one powerful roundhouse kick, I took Jackson’s legs right out from under him. There wasn’t a moment to celebrate his obvious defeat. I saw Jackson move for my legs. I tried to jump like we’d been taught, but worn down, I was too slow. His leg caught mine, and I landed on my side, immediately rolling out of range.
“I’m sure that’s not how you defeated the furies.” Instructor Romvi sounded smug.
I didn’t have a second to think about how much I wished I could drop-kick Romvi. Jackson whipped around. I scooted to the side, but his kick caught me in the ribs. Pain exploded, so unexpected and so intense, that I froze.
Sensing that Jackson wasn’t done yet, I brought my hands up, but that teeny, tiny second cost me. Jackson’s heel slipped past my hands, hitting my chin and cutting my lip right open. Something warm gushed into my mouth, and I saw flashes of light. Blood—I tasted blood. And beyond the flashing lights, I saw Jackson’s boot come up one more time.