Page 15

15

Titus disappeared while Julian, Damen, and I moved into the living room. Even though Miles stayed in the kitchen to try to save the party by making chocolate chip cookies, the mood was greatly diminished.

I didn’t want to talk—and Julian and Damen clearly expected this reaction. Instead, they stayed close, both absorbed in their own projects, while they left me to sulk under a navy afghan.

Miles arrived with a plate of chocolatey goodness and sat on the floor across from me.

“Don’t let him ruin the rest of your night,” he said, and pushed the full plate across the sofa table. “Eat this. I even put in extra chocolate chips.”

I peeked out from a hole in my blanket fort. I couldn’t deny that the puffy baked offering was tempting. It was almost too much, in fact, to resist. The longer I stared, the more my mouth watered despite my trauma. But, “No, thanks.”

Miles pouted—my refusal had hurt him—yet he respected my decision. “Well, if you’re sure,” he began, and started to pull the plate away. “I guess I’ll just—”

“I changed my mind.” The blanket dropped from my shoulders as I moved out of my shelter and placed my hand over his. What kind of person would rescind such an offering? It was offensive on an almost personal level.

One must be beholden to their word.

I watched him, looking him in the eye, as I took a huge bite of the cookie. “Delicious,” my response was muffled.

The corner of Miles’s mouth lifted in a triumphant grin. “I’m glad.”

“That was brave,” Julian intoned. He’d barely lifted his attention from his book as he joined in our conversation. “Of you both.”

Why brave? I paused mid-action of lifting a second cookie to my mouth and looked between them. Miles, too, seemed confused.

“Why?” he asked. “I’m not worried.”

Why would he be worried?

“Did you do something to the cookie?” I asked him.

“No.” Miles blinked his big, brown eyes at me. He was so cute and earnest that I believed him.

He was too good-natured to do evil.

“Thank you.” It was delicious, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be cautious. “But if something happens to me, I’m holding you personally responsible.” And that was a promise.

Miles blanched but couldn’t form a coherent reply before Damen slapped his hands together. “That being said,” he interrupted, “there’s something that we need to discuss.”

I grabbed the corners of my blanket as my heartbeat picked up again. Whatever Damen wanted to talk about had to be important. A shadow fell over the room, and I glanced to my left— Titus. His thick, dark features were grim, and my stomach dropped.

I hadn’t heard him return.

“What’s wrong?” My voice came out as a breathless whisper.

“All right.” Titus grimaced as he held up a small square between his strong-looking fingers. “This is your SIM card. I’ve removed it and your battery, and I’ll destroy them. There was also a tracker built into your phone.”

I’d expected that, but it still didn’t stop the blood rushing from my head. Nor did it do anything to quell the anger that’d begun to rise in place of my grief. “What kind of tracker?”

“A location tracker,” Titus replied. “Along with some other things.”

“Like what?” Damen asked with all seriousness.

“All her calls and messages are being monitored.” Titus squeezed his fingers together, and the card snapped in half.

My anger ebbed somewhat.

I already knew about the monitoring. That was a condition of me getting the phone.

That wasn’t so bad.

But Titus wasn’t finished. “There’s a program running in the background, too—it’s custom-made. Certain words—or phrases—trigger it to run when they are searched on the browser, and the program randomly displays misleading information.”

I couldn’t breathe. Misleading… information? “W-what?”

Damen was deathly still. “What is it filtering?”

“I haven’t been able to break the pattern yet,” Titus responded. “But it seems like anything with a violent or sexual nature. There’s even some paranormal terms.”

“So it’s basically a custom parental control?” Julian asked. “I didn’t think he knew how to write programs—isn’t he majoring in criminal justice? ”

“No,” Damen shook his head, and the mask of his anger fell away with it. “He hasn’t cared about that in a long time.”

“He’s majoring in electrical engineering,” I said.

How could he not know Finn’s major? Even though he’d betrayed me, I couldn’t help but feel a smidgen of sadness for the blond jerk.

“It’s an older program,” Titus argued, shaking his head. “I don’t know if he’d have been able to write this on his own. Could he have gotten help from family?” He looked at Damen when he said this, and my heart sank further.

Family.

I touched my fingers together in front of my lips, barely able to feel the breath of my words. “My father might know how to do it,” I offered. “He’s a security engineer.”

“But,” Julian interrupted. “Do you think he’d help Finn?”

It wasn’t a hard question. Would they really work together in order to run my life? Did they really think I was that pathetic?

I nodded, even though it hurt my heart to admit it. But, “Why?”

“Bianca—” Damen crossed the space between us and sat beside me. He pulled my hands, holding them, as he asked, “Can you think of any reason why they would go to this level to shelter you? Is there anything in your past we should know about? We want to help you.”

“My past…” I pulled back, but Damen didn’t let go. “You know about my past. It’s fine.” The heat was rising in my face, but there was nothing to be said.

Damen sighed, and a muscle in my thigh twitched. His strong frame tightened, and the lines around his lips deepened. He didn’t believe me—and I didn’t blame him. “I guess it makes sense for you not to trust us.”

He knew. He was disappointed .

He was going to end it—

“Bianca, I am an onmyoji,” he said suddenly. The flames from the fireplace threw orange shadows across his complexion, and something in his features shifted, becoming more pointed. “And within the five practices, I practice onmyodo.”

A pointed silence took over the space, and I tilted my head, watching him.

Waiting for something more.

“O… kay?” That was it? Well, that was boring. “What’s an onm…” The rest of the world fell from my tongue—it was going to take practice—and a lot more times hearing it—before I would be able to get it right. “That thing?”

And what did he mean, five practices?

Damen did, in fact, seem mildly offended, as evidenced by the distinctive turn of his mouth, but braved on with his explanation, nonetheless. “Onmyodo is an occult-based science-based in Taoism and other Chinese-based sciences. Most of us have a familiar, or shikigami, that we summon during spiritual warfare. Our practitioners vary in skill and focus—including tarot reading, fortunetelling, and using non-human spirits as familiars—but I am an expert in all above areas due to my title.”

There was a catch in the air, trepidation. This was the subject that the boys were hesitant to broach.

I could feel it too, but I was sure, for a different reason. Despite the dire mood, my blood was beginning to sing in an excited rhythm, and my breath echoed in my ears.

“What title?” I asked. Was it what made him so special?

“The four of us are members of a group with different, complementary supernatural abilities, called a quintet. Usually, there are five members in a quintet, but we’re working with what we have. Our particular group is known as the Xing,” Damen explained, carefully gauging my reaction .

Okay, that sounded cool.

“You—” He rubbed his shoulder. Obviously, this conversation was stressful for him, so I was trying my best to take everything in stride. “You’ve never heard of us?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Okay.” Damen sucked in a deep breath. “Well…” He looked at the others, allowing his nervousness to show through for the first time, and I felt sorry for him. All of them—because every man in this room wore equally uncertain expressions of apprehension.

It was my turn to put him at ease. Although I wasn’t generally comfortable with touch, his distress made my skin hum with an urgency to reassure him.

Even though there were five of us in this room, he suddenly seemed so alone.

“It’s okay.” I petted his right hand. He jumped and stared at me. “You don’t need to be nervous or scared. I’m not going to run away.”

Although, quite honestly, I wanted to—only to get my bearings. But he was depending on me, and even though I didn’t understand the significance, this was clearly hard for him to talk about.

“But,” I added, “if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine too.”

Damen broke away from his stunned state and placed his left hand on the top of my head. A soft warmness sunk into the place he touched. His voice was gruff, thick with emotion when he spoke. “I’m starting to understand why others have felt the need to go to extreme methods to protect you. Even if their actions were unquestionably wrong.”

What? “Why?”

I’d been deeply hurt by my betrayal. In fact, I’d already planned to set aside some time between breakfast and my first class tomorrow morning to begin formulating my plans to murder Finn. I had some credits to use in the bookstore. I’d probably buy a notebook to organize my thoughts, and then…

Revenge.

“But I’m also sure that you’re stronger than they think too,” Damen added. He sat back and dropped his hand back to his lap. My head felt cold at the retreat of his touch. “We’re reincarnations.” He gestured around the room to include the other men. “We are the archetypes of our various disciplines based on the Chinese Five Element theory. Other people with our abilities look to us for guidance and answers, and it is our job to guide them.”

I frowned.

It wasn’t the silliest thing I’d heard so far—and Damen had been the only one to give me any sort of truth. Yet, despite my logic, I believed him.

For example, that was why they’d been strutting about like they owned the place. And why they assumed I knew who they were.

Not that this news of their newfound fame changed anything; I’d already ugly-cried all over Damen’s shirt. I would, under no circumstances, grovel at his feet now.

“Finn knows,” I pointed out. Yet another betrayal.

“Yes,” Damen answered, even though I wasn’t asking a question. “In fact, he’s one of my highest-ranking advisors.”

“Is that so?” That made his lies even worse. So untrustworthy. “What about everyone else? What are your abilities?” I glanced around the room. This was curious. I would have to learn how this entire system worked.

Eventually.

But just knowing who they were was more important for now.

“I’m a witch,” Miles chimed in. He’d settled on the floor, sitting cross-legged with his hands over his knees. “Witchcraft can vary in practice, ranging from herbology and kitchen witchery to include other earth-based magics.”

“Oh…” The chocolate chip cookies weren’t so innocent after all. “The cookies—”

Miles cleared his throat. “I might be the Xing, but I’m still learning too. Living abroad, away from everyone, threw off my education a bit. But I’ll be graduating soon.” His face turned red. “I haven’t been able to master curses and the fun stuff yet”— the fun stuff? Which, somehow, included curses. I was intrigued—“but yeah, I did use magic while making the cookies.”

I stared at them, a stirring of unease settling in my stomach.

“It was nothing bad!” Miles sounded panicked. “You were sad, and stressed, and…” He looked down, unable to meet my eyes, as he began to draw circles on the floor with his pointer finger. “Food is powerful and nurturing. Certain ingredients, like salt, vanilla, and cinnamon, are intended to bring happiness and chase away negative feelings. That’s what I focused on.”

“You…” My tense muscles relaxed. I could understand—I was very interested in the study of plants and their medicinal properties, like Damen’s lavender bath. But even more importantly, Miles had made them with the sole purpose of helping me.

That was… A genuine, heartfelt thing to do. Those were the kind of gestures that made me weak. “Thank you.” Why was I blushing? We must look like total morons.

But how else was I supposed to feel? He was, apparently, a super famous witch, and he’d cooked something just for me.

“What is a witch’s graduation?” I asked, trying to focus on anything other than this rising heat between us.

His eyes sparkled in mischief, and he winked. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”

They really did plan on keeping me around. My heart thundered furiously, and not from fear. It was pure adrenaline. We’d been friends for such a short time, and they were already sharing secrets and making plans for our future.

I wasn’t sure how I’d ever be able to repay them.

I glanced at Julian. He was sitting stiffly in his seat, apparently waiting for this moment. I couldn’t keep the eagerness out of my voice when I asked, “What about you, Julian?”

Even though he had to be expecting it, he flinched before his expression darkened.

My pulse skipped. He didn’t want to tell me. I understood that look—it was an expression that I saw every day in the mirror.

I glanced toward Titus, our stoic guardian. He wore a similar expression.

They couldn’t be afraid of me—such a thing was not possible. So their apprehension had to be of the situation itself. My fingers hummed as a growing sense of kinship began to blossom toward them. Damen and Miles might have been confident in their abilities, but Titus and Julian clearly did not trust me with that information yet.

It made me more curious, but I couldn’t ask again. Generally, it was hard for me to let things go, but these were my new friends, and I did not want to be intrusive.

Julian opened his mouth to respond, and the fact that he was willing to tell me despite his fear was enough.

“It’s all right,” I cut him off. There were two things I knew without question: he worked hard and was a good person. That was all that mattered.

His words died, and his worried gaze met mine. The glimmer of surprise within his eyes was impossible to miss.

“You don’t have to tell me.” I glanced between the two of them. “I trust you, and if the subject comes up again later, that’s fine. But right now, it’s not a big deal to know everything. ”

I might not understand everything, but they all took the time to teach me despite my flaws. I owed them a lot. Their trust in me was the greatest gift I could have asked for, and I would never betray it.

Julian’s gaze softened as he relaxed in his seat. “Where did you come from?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” Titus interrupted, his velvety tones husky. “Just don’t question it.”

In fact, if their relaxing postures were any indication, they all seemed relieved I didn’t press for more answers. Yet there was a lingering tenseness, just barely there, and the looks they shot each other spoke of worry.

“Bianca”—Damen was chosen spokesperson once more—“how are you taking this? How do you feel?”

I started with the unexpected question, “T-this?” How was I supposed to describe these feelings? My chest was tight, and my thoughts were racing. An entire world had been kept hidden from me while I lived within it, and what was worse, I had no idea why.

“I—” I touched my lips, trying to ignore the way my fingers shook. “I don’t know.” How could I explain?

“Why lie to me?” I asked, vision watering. “Is-is there something wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” And then Damen was there, pulling me into his arms before my tears could spill over. “You’re perfect.” He breathed the words directly into my ear, just loud enough for me to hear—and, maybe, I wasn’t meant to pick it up. My skin began to tingle where his breath touched.

“Really?” I asked and then came the question that’d been lingering in the back of my mind since this conversation began. I brought my curled finger to my bottom lip, hesitant.

I really didn’t want to make this about me—not after they’d just opened up about themselves. Pressing for more information felt stupidly selfish.

“What’s wrong?” Damen asked. “You can ask me anything you want.”

“You guys, Finn, everyone—you’re supernatural beings, right?” I began, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “What about me?” I asked.

Damen had understood my abilities, which meant there were others like me out there.

“Does that mean we’re not humans?” I asked.

He’d stopped stroking my hair and brought his hands to my shoulders so he could peer into my face. “Being supernatural doesn’t make anyone less human,” Damen explained. “We’re just different types of humans.”

That didn’t answer my question, and he knew it. His gaze hadn’t moved from my own.

“But to answer your question,” he enunciated every word. “Someone with your abilities is fae.”

“Fae…” But the fairies were tiny, glowing, flying magical beings. Not me. “That can’t be.”

Damen shook his head. “Usually the fae live in their own space within the human realm and the underworld. They are the messengers, leaders, and guardians of spirits who have not passed through the veil. But in recent years, as the world has expanded, more fae have decided to live within this realm.”

“I’m not a fairy.” Who was he fooling?

“Yes, you are,” Titus interrupted. I glanced at him as he crossed his arms. “There’s no need to give me that look, princess.” I blinked. My heart was thundering under his weighty stare. “I knew the first instant I saw you. Why do you think I wouldn’t leave you alone?”

“Erm…” Honestly, I thought it was because he was a predator, bu t I really couldn’t say that out loud. “I thought you were a stalker.”

There, that was a much kinder way of expressing my concerns.

“I knew it!” Miles pointed at Titus, who frowned. Although I wasn’t sure why Miles seemed so thrilled about my confession, as he’d also been with Titus in the vigil outside of my professor’s house.

The witch was just as guilty.

In either case, I wasn’t sure why my being ‘fae’ had anything to do with Titus imposing himself on my daily activities. This was still so confusing.

“I still don’t know what that means,” I exhaled. From their own admission, not even my four new friends were like me. I needed to talk to a professional.

There needed to be someone who could give me proper answers, right from the source. If these men were the experts in their fields, I needed to find the one in mine. An advisor.

“Where’s the fae Xing?” I asked.

The mood dulled, and an uneasy air moved through the room. A low warning began to hum in the back of my head. I’d grown too comfortable, too quickly, and with my unmeasured question, I’d crossed into forbidden territory.

Damen’s breath was tight, and my chest grew hot as he responded, “He died.” He was no longer looking at me but toward the low-burning fireplace.

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, but from the short history they shared, they must have been close to this individual. “I’m sorry.” I could feel the other three watching me, and I shifted my weight, trying to ignore the growing knot in my stomach.

This conversation had begun to take an unsettling tone. I’d brought up their long-lost friend; of course it made them sad. I reached out before I could second-guess myself, allowing myself to follow instinct instead of the voice in my head whispering that this was a terrible idea.

It was obvious that in this world that I’d only just been introduced to, they far outranked me. A friendship between us was probably something to which not many people were privy. I should stay away from them.

So, why couldn’t I?

My heart thundered in my ears, and Damen’s pained expression choked me. He wasn’t only grieving—he was worried. Scared.

But why?

I twisted his shirt into my tight fist. “It’ll be okay.”

“What?” The tired lines fell from his face.

A warmth soaring through me made my fingers and toes tingle, and—in a move entirely unlike me—I grabbed his hands. I wasn’t sure how this conversation had turned from him comforting me, but this felt right.

“It’ll be okay.” I never would have been so forward normally, and I wasn’t sure where my sudden courage was coming from, but I couldn’t ignore this feeling. “So don’t give up hope yet.”

He stared at me for what seemed like forever—or at least long enough to make butterflies flutter about in my stomach—before he blinked and pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“In any case—” He began to mutter words in a nervous ramble. There was only part I could decipher from his statements.

“—Bryce,” he said.

I reeled back, heart leaping into my throat, as the name of my archnemesis poisoned the air around us. “ Bryce ?”

His shock faded as he leaned back, stunned at my reaction. I knew the others were just as perturbed, but what could I do ?

I hadn’t had time to prepare, to brace myself. This was the most natural response possible.

“Bryce Dubois,” Damen repeated. “You know him?”

Did I know him? What a silly question—wasn’t it clear from my reaction?

I nodded, pushing my fists against my chest. Violence was my most immediate desire when it came to that man. “He’s teaching Professor Hamway’s class.”

“Oh, yeah.” Damen looked away. “I’d forgotten he was actually doing something this year.” His snarky tone soothed my rattled emotions, and my attention perked.

Could it be—did Damen not like Bryce either?

“In any case”—Damen shrugged—“he’s fae too. In fact, he’s the highest-ranking officer outside of the Xing. He’s probably the best person to go to with any questions you might have.”

That wouldn’t be happening.

“No, that’s okay.” I shook my head—my thirst for knowledge vanished. “I’d rather not.”

This had been the worst day. This most recent news was almost as painful as the deep betrayals that I’d suffered through. It made me feel sick to learn that Bryce might have anything to do with my salvation. But I would be brave.

“Are you crying?” Julian was suddenly sitting beside us. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No.” I shook my head. Why was my chest so tight that I could scarcely breathe? How could I explain that this was just another example of my terrible luck? Finn, my parents, knowledge of my ignorance…

And now Bryce—the last person in the world that I could be prevailed upon to trust.

I didn’t like any of this.

“Everything is wrong.” I sniffled .

“It will be okay,” Damen said. “You’re with us now.”

His words reassured a part of me that I’d forgotten even existed, but with that emotion, brought a wave of apprehension.

They were popular and strong. Should I end this friendship? After what happened in the past, every unsuccessful attempt, I didn’t think I could handle being hurt again.

While it was true that being alone terrified me, the kind of hurt that came after trust was even worse.

But there were good people out there too. I had to believe that.

Yet something in me begged me to trust in this connection despite logic warning me otherwise. This wasn’t normal—not for me—and I didn’t want to give up this feeling. Maybe it was selfish, or maybe this was all supposed to have happened, but with them near me, my anxieties melted away. The fears and feelings that clouded my mind had lifted. It felt almost like I’d regained a lost part of myself.

Even with Finn, it had never felt so right.

Opening myself was so easy and so intimidating, but I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I gripped Damen’s shirt again, and with that, the dam burst.

“Please don’t hurt me.” I felt pitiful—it was difficult to beg. But without them, I was truly alone.

Damen held me so tightly I could scarcely breathe. But I didn’t care. I savored the comfort and security he provided while I broke down completely.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but the entire time, he whispered things I couldn’t hear, and those that I could were promises and reassurances that made no sense. He never stopped holding me as he ran his hands through my hair and over my back. The fact that he’d even do such a thing made me cry even harder .

I was a mess. Yet this cathartic release made me feel stronger. I was no longer alone.

No one left the room. And while there was an occasional question or a concerned comment, eventually, everyone settled and allowed Damen to take the lead. No one abandoned me during my ridiculous emotional display.

Was this friendship? Was this how people usually acted? In the past, Finn would pet my shoulder and leave me alone to cry. He wasn’t always understanding, and I wasn’t used to this kind of affection.

My tears dissolved into hiccups. My eyes burned, and I wiped them with my fists before a navy handkerchief was thrust into my hands.

I looked at it—confused. Who carried a handkerchief? Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. These men used silver serving trays and fine china during their weekly club meetings.

“Use this,” Julian—the owner of said handkerchief—told me. He didn’t look at me, possibly sensing that I was not ready for it, but all of them had taken up positions closer than before.

I moved my hands to my face. My eyes had to be red and blotchy, and my nose was running. I must look awful.

As I accepted the cloth, Damen spoke. His voice was rough, and from my current position, I couldn’t see his expression. “We always sit in a huddle during our parties. It’s part of the bonding experience. You’ve just been initiated.”