Page 45

WHY DIDN’T I GET A HANDBOOK?

SYDNEY

When Huck and I walk into our dorm, the quiet makes me suspicious. The guys don’t get into crazy fights, but the lack of sniping feels off. We make our way through the kitchen to find the four of them sitting in their usual spots as they focus on their tablets. I arch a brow, not believing this shit for a second, and Huck lets go of my arm to bow playfully.

“We’ve arrived, darlin’. Why don’t you change quick-like so we can order food and get this bullshit done?”

The demon gives me an innocent smile and though I don’t trust that, either; I nod. Truthfully, I won’t complain about him giving me a brief out so I can gather myself. He wasn’t in the exam room when the centaur and I spoke, so he didn’t realize how much was racing through my brain. “That sounds good, actually. I wouldn’t mind a Chinese buffet if you guys want to order while I’m gone.”

“I’m on it,” Thad says with a cheerful smile. He motions for Huck to join them so they can use one of their devices to order, and I turn on my heel to head for my room. The bear’s easygoing attitude is part of why I let him in so long ago, and definitely why he’s one of my closest friends now. Thad never stresses me out because he’s the calm in the storm.

“Don’t be long,” Rory calls out, and I raise my hand, waving at him over my shoulder as I walk to my room.

Too bad for him; I’ll take as long as I want after the completely FUBAR day I just had.

The clothes I took out of the drawer are still sitting on the comforter next to me when I blink back into consciousness. It takes me a minute to realize that I came in, got my shit out, sat down, and spaced out entirely for… Frowning, I look around, then give in and say, “Irina, what time is it?”

When she replies, I’m relieved to find that it’s been ten minutes—not a short time, but definitely not so long that I’m going to have men breaking down my door. I kick off my shoes with a rueful grin, then peel off socks, pants, and the rest to toss in my laundry bin. It’s not a normal thing for me to blank out while my brain processes like that, but damned if I don’t get why it’s happening. The past weeks have been so packed with emotional overload and world rocking new information that I can’t always handle additional shit being piled on.

Which is without a doubt what happened in that fucking office.

Once the nurse left, the first thing I asked him was why the woman seemed like she wanted to gut me for making her do her damn job. He laughed, explaining that she’s been pulling extra shifts to cover all the ‘problems’ cropping up as teams figure out their dynamic. I arch a brow and the doc turns his back to the microphone corner, hastily scribbling on his clipboard as he elaborated on various minor injuries.

They’re hiding the major injuries and two deaths. Not all the supes have been able to gel in their groups.

His secret clue made my eyes widen as I thought about how often that might happen before the actual competition starts. It seemed likely there would be some issues, but it still shocked me to find out that things escalated that quickly without the humans intervening. That solidified my opinion that they really care less about us than the show animals they race or own. Supes dying or getting maimed wasn’t even a blip on the radar for the people running this shit. After that, I took the pen from the mythical, writing my own question for him to answer.

What did you do to me at intake and why?

Dr. Moreau pressed his lips together, writing a different response than he said out loud, “The implantation will not be completely safe for two weeks, Sydney. You need to be careful until after that date.”

I removed the Marker to give our people a chance. You were the first supe to feel like I could trust you not to get me caught or to abuse it.

I caught his game, nodding as I scribbled my next query. “Got it. Two weeks. How long will it last? This one went bad at least a year early, which is why I’m here at the last minute.”

How did you know that? I haven’t even emerged, which you had to know.

The low neighing sound that tinged his chuckle made me smile. He added his secret answer and tapped the point on the last word. “It should last five years and this time, not fail early. The way we did this for you is much less painful and more effective than what their doctors put you through when you first arrived at the camp.”

The nurse and I sensed it. We’re both gifted in assessing beings of various types through their bodies and the impressions of their spirit. It’s how we diagnose.

Our conversation lasted almost a half hour, but the kindly centaur helped me understand that the human birth control likely failed because of my physiology changing with emergence. I’m still in the process, but as much as it’s playing havoc on my powers, it’s doing similar to my body. He didn’t know what I’ve got running through my veins without doing a test that might cause me more problems than not. I didn’t like accepting that, but I also don’t need the humans declaring me persona non grata so they can execute me.

Sighing, I turn to look in the mirror, examining the various additions the beauty folks did, then the small, magical tattoo Dr. Moreau’s procedure left on my lower left abdomen. I can’t fault the guy for hoping he could create a hero, but I don’t know if I’m that gal. Obviously, I’ve been allowed to live in the dark for most of my life, and I’ve got anger issues that would cripple an elephant. There’s nothing special about me I can see, even with all the upgrades.

Why would anyone think I’m a ‘chosen one’ or whatever?

“Because we’re all so goddamn desperate,” I mutter to myself as I head back to the bed and tug on my tee shirt. I pick up my pants, then frown, deciding to change my undergarments as well. Walking to the dresser, I grab a fresh pair and quickly deal with that before I put on the sweats. “Everyone is praying someone is coming to save them in the camps, but that hope should have died years ago. I don’t get why there are supes still thinking the elders or anyone else is going to fix this mess.”

Frustration fills me as I wad up the previous dirty stuff in a ball so I can get rid of it in the bathroom before I join the others. Whatever my powers are, they aren’t unfurling quickly enough, and shit like the birth control randomly failing keeps putting me at a disadvantage. I’ve never wished I was a guy more than today in that damn gym. The look on the guys’ faces made me want to crawl under the floorboards even though I know what happened is completely fucking normal.

“Get a grip, Sydney,” I say as I set the ball of pants on the dresser and reach up to undo my braid. The relief I feel when I let the tightly woven strands loose is palpable, and I carefully run the brush through it until the golden waves fall over my shoulders. “You can survive almost anything if you’ve lasted this long. No way are you going to let the goddamn humans best you.”

My eyes narrow and I realize that my hatred for what they’ve done to our kind definitely outweighs my doubts and fears. Even if I wasn’t meant to be the savior or whatever, I can still help fuck up their precious order with the help of my teammates. We can spark the flame of revolution and the supes can save themselves, for fuck’s sakes. That’s how we can win—not that it will happen quickly or without sacrifice.

Am I willing to be that sacrifice if it comes to it?

I ponder that question as I slap the stupid creams and drops on my face like Shoshana’s people instructed. Do I believe in this cause enough to risk my life? Pressing my lips together, I stare at the array of cosmetics while my mind races. I do, especially because so many women and children died during Taterman’s fucking sweeps. People who weren’t resisting were slaughtered along with the rebels, simply because they were in the same general area. They could have sent those without weapons to the camps; they made an unforgettable, unerasable mental picture they broadcast across this country so we all knew to surrender.

“If I’m being forced into this kind of bullshit, and I’m reluctant to give up my life for freedom, what chance do supernaturals have? No one will risk it if they don’t have examples of others who are putting it all on the line to unshackle themselves.”

Heavy-handed rhetoric, of course, but that doesn’t make it untrue. If I stand for nothing, I’ll fall like everyone else—and anyone who thinks simply winning this damn competition will earn them the right to live peacefully hasn’t been paying attention for the past four years. There’s no option for the supes on the teams now, but I can help others, even if I don’t get to see the result.

Suddenly, a smirk comes over my lips when I realize how mopey I sound. “Those damn hormones are hitting me like bricks to the face today. I’m angry, emo, hungry, cranky, and ridiculously poetic. I hope this shit doesn’t last for long or the guys are going to wish they could be on a rocket to Mars.”

One more glance in the mirror confirms I don’t look like a scarecrow, so I pick up the bundle of pants. Opening the door, I quickly scoot from my room to the bathroom, disposing of what I need to and stuffing the clothes in the hamper there. The last thing I want to discuss with anyone is the nightmare that has been my personal hygiene today. I pick up an extra perfume spray sitting on the counter and douse myself, then sigh in relief.

Okay, now I think I’m ready to face the firing squad.

I take a deep breath and exit the bathroom, heading down the corridor to the living area. The guys are still pretending to be engrossed in their homework, so I drop down on the far end of the couch and tuck my feet under me. “Thanks for letting me decompress for a few. It’s been a long ass day.”

Elias’ gaze flicks to me, and the quiet dragon rumbles, “We all need space sometimes, little rebel.”

“Not me,” Rory says, as he leans back on his elbows, his eyes dancing as he grins at me. “I like to be as close as possible. However, since I’m a gentleman…”

I frown, tilting my head as I glare at the mage. “That’s not true. The other night you barged into my room despite my apparent discomfort, and I’m fairly certain the rest of these goons put you up to it.”

He blinks, looking confused for a moment. “When I didn’t let you close the door? Vicious, I didn’t mean to push your boundaries with that. I just… I knew I could help, and no one wanted you to be hurting.”

“Next time, keep your body parts to yourself and wait until you’re invited, then,” I whisper. “I’m not saying you were wrong, or that you didn’t help—you helped a lot. But it would have gone a lot more smoothly if you’d waited until I was ready to let someone into my space.”

Rory is quiet for a moment—a minor miracle, to be sure—and then he nods. “Message received, babe. I’ll be more conscientious from now; cross my heart.”

Thad clears his throat, looking at me seriously. “While we’re on the subject, it would be good if we all try not to huff off and leave the rest wondering what the hell is happening when we get upset.”

I blink, surprised at the blatant insinuation and that Thad is the one who said it. It’s not like my gentle, laid-back bear to call me out so publicly. He’s right , of course, but I’m just shocked to hear him say it. “Um, yeah. I’m sorry about that. That’s my bad habit to break, I suppose. Product of being on my own with my dad for so long, I guess, but that doesn’t excuse making you guys worry. I’ll work on it.”

Surprisingly, I actually mean that, and the relieved expressions on their faces are making me warm all over.