Misha hesitated.
“I’ll text you when I get back, okay?”
“Okay,” he said after a moment.
I didn’t waste time, because if I did, Misha would change his mind and leave Alina sitting by the fire. Saying goodbye, I dipped around the couch and then glanced over my shoulder toward the fairy lights.
Dez and Zayne were still there, and I quickly looked away.
I started toward the house. It was a good thing Misha didn’t know about me running into Zayne yesterday.
Or what I’d told Zayne.
I was still smacking myself for that one, but if Misha knew about it, he’d be right here with me instead of hanging out with Alina and enjoying himself.
I thought about what Clay had said to me as I followed the sidewalk back to the house. It had been...weird. I get it. What in the world had he meant? The thing was, he didn’t get it.
Had Zayne heard Clay? I sighed. Probably. Not like that would be embarrassing or—
“Hey.”
My heart jumped in my chest at the sound of Zayne’s voice. It was like I’d conjured him from the shadows. I stopped and turned around, ignoring the way my pulse started pounding.
“You didn’t try to hit me.” Zayne halted a few feet from me, under the soft glow of a streetlamp, hands in his pockets. “Turning over a new leaf?”
“Ha. Ha,” I grumbled. “Maybe you just called out loud enough for me to hear this time.”
“Maybe.” A small grin appeared. “So, what was going on back there?”
I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I played dumb. “What do you mean?”
“That guy,” he answered. “Yelling about you getting him a drink or something.”
“You heard.” I sighed.
“Confident the entire state of West Virginia heard him.”
Shaking my head, I lifted my hands. “It was nothing.”
“Doesn’t seem like nothing if you left immediately after that.”
I lowered my hands. “Wow. You were really paying attention.”
“I was.”
Surprise stole my voice for a moment. “Why?”
“Because I saw you over there, so I was paying attention.”
“You didn’t even look at me until after Clay made an ass of himself.”
That easy, teasing grin returned as he bit down on his lower lip. “So, you were also paying attention.”
Warmth splashed across my cheeks. “No, I wasn’t.”
He chuckled as he tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And annoying?”
“That, too.” He looked to his left and then back to me. “What’s the deal with that Clay guy?”
“He’s just... He’s just a dickhead.” A breeze lifted the ends of my hair. A weird little shiver curled its way down my spine. The wind picked up, tossing my hair over my face. I took a step back. “I need to get home.”
“I can walk you.”
There was a voice that whispered yes, a voice driven by an almost desperate need for something more than passing attention, but that need was irresponsible and reckless and interesting.
“I’m heading in that direction, anyway,” he said, nodding toward my house and the Great Hall beyond it. “It’s not a big deal.”
Exhaling softly, I nodded. “Okay. Sure. Whatever floats your boat.”
Zayne chuckled.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Kind of.”
“Then I revoke my acceptance of your offer.” I turned and started walking.
Zayne easily caught up with me. “Nope. No take-backs.”
I fought my grin and won.
We walked in silence for a while and then Zayne asked, “What’s it been like, living here?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have other Wardens acted like Clay, or are they nice to you?”
I glanced at him. “Almost all of them have been accepting of me being here, if that’s what you mean. Clay is just... Well, he’s an ass, but I grew up with a lot of the younger ones. Even Clay.”
“And you were schooled with them? What was that like?”
“Okay, I guess. I learned about the Civil War in one class and the different species of demons in the next. Which means I probably had a more interesting educational experience than most humans,” I said. All communities were outfitted with their own schools. They of course were much smaller than many schools in the human world. One building housed K-12, and each class typically had no more than ten to fifteen students. “What about you? Did you grow up in one of the communities?”
“I was born in one in Virginia, just outside Richmond, but I don’t remember any of it.”
“You’ve always lived at one of the outposts, then?” I asked, referencing the locations where trained Wardens who patrolled and hunted demons lived.
“Yep,” he answered. “And you’ve never lived anywhere but here and...New York?”
I was surprised he remembered. “I came here when I was eight, with my mom.” We crossed the street, heading toward the smaller stone wall that separated the main house from the community. “It’s all I’ve known.”
Zayne was quiet, and I stole a quick glance at him. He focused on the dimly lit path and then his chin tipped in my direction.
I looked away, sucking in a shallow breath of the cool, pine-scented night air. “What was it like in the outpost?”
“Nothing like this,” he answered. “I grew up surrounded by trained Wardens and not away from...well, everything. I spent as much time in the city as I did in the compound. It’s never this quiet there.”
“I can imagine,” I murmured, but I really couldn’t. I didn’t remember much about living in New York State. We’d been in a suburb outside of Albany, never anyplace like Washington, DC, or New York City. “You were homeschooled?”
“I was. My father brought in someone to handle my education, a human who wasn’t too freaked out being surrounded by Wardens.”
“That had to be hard, being the only kid.”
“I wasn’t the only kid,” he said, and my curiosity piqued. Before I could I question that, he said, “Can I ask you something?”
“If I said no, you’d probably ask, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t. Not if you meant it.”
The genuineness in his voice brought my gaze to him. I actually...believed that. “What do you want to know?”
“How old are you?”
I lifted a brow. “I’m eighteen. How old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” he answered. “I’ll be twenty-two in a few months. September.”
I folded my arms over my stomach as we rounded the stone wall and neared the house.
“You’re eighteen and your mom is gone—and I’m really sorry about that.” He tacked on that last part quickly. “But why are you still here?”
8
Oh, damn, that was a hard question to answer, because I couldn’t be honest. By the time we reached the house, I still didn’t have a response. We stopped at the edge of the floodlight that shone down from the front porch.
“Is it because you don’t have anywhere else to go?” he asked. “I don’t mean anything rude by that. I can imagine it would be hard growing up here and then going out there, into the world.”
“But I want to go out there.” The moment I said it, I mentally cursed myself up and down the block. I really needed to get control of my mouth.
Zayne angled his body toward me. “Then why don’t you?”
“It’s not... It’s not that simple,” I admitted. “I mean, I don’t have anyplace to go. Like you said. It’s hard coming from this and going out there. The Board of Education now recognizes our diplomas, as do most colleges, but where would I get the money? Financial Aid would be tricky, because Wardens don’t qualify for it, and even though I’m not a Warden, my education suggests that I am. It would be a mess, and everyone here has better things to do than help me figure it out.”
“Sounds like you’ve looked into it.”
I had. A lot. And all the looking I had done was pointless, because college wasn’t in the cards for me. That wasn’t what I’d been...born for. After Mom had been killed, I’d researched colleges, figuring there was no reason that I shouldn’t be able to go to school and be ready for whenever I was summoned.
But how would I pay for it? Ask Thierry and Matthew for the funds? They already provided everything for me. I couldn’t ask for that, too.
“I have another question,” he said.
“Okay,” I sighed, half-afraid of what this one would lead to.
“What happened to the Warden who killed your mother?”
The question was a jolt to the system, and I took a step away from Zayne. “I shouldn’t have told you about that.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t like talking or thinking about it.”
“I’m sorry,” he immediately said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, I turned to head up the steps and then stopped, facing Zayne. “The Warden is dead. I wouldn’t have stayed here if he wasn’t.”
“I wouldn’t imagine that you would’ve,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Trinity.”