Home > Refuge(8)

Refuge(8)
Author: Karen Lynch

“Stop! Do not go there if you know what’s good for you!” My face really was flaming now.

Smothered laughter reached my ears, and I called him a few not-so-nice things, which only made him laugh openly. The thing about Roland is that it’s really hard to resist his laughter.

“Feel better?” he asked when we’d both finally stopped cracking up.

“Yes.” I wiped my eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“But you love me anyway.” His voice grew more serious. “I’m sure this thing with your power is nothing. You’ve been through a lot lately, and it’s probably messing with you.”

“Maybe you’re right.” What he said made sense. This had only started up since I came here. I wasn’t miserable, but I wasn’t happy either.

“Of course I’m right. I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

“No, you have that huge ego, too.” I felt lighter than I had in days.

“Well, my job here is done.” He heaved a weighty sigh. “Now I have to study. We have a chem test tomorrow, and I still have to graduate from high school.”

Chemistry was Roland’s worst subject. It used to be mine, too, and we used to help each other cram for tests. Chemistry was one thing I did not miss. “Good luck on the test, and thanks again for going to the cave for me.”

“Anytime. No, scratch that. Please don’t ask me to do that again,” he pleaded. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

I hung up and rubbed my damp hands against my thighs. The static was gone and the Coke was back to normal, but that didn’t lessen my anxiety. My power was acting weird, and I had no idea what to do about it. I wished Aine was here, or Remy. He was so knowledgeable and would have helped me figure this out. I let out a ragged breath. I missed him so much.

“Enough of that.” I pushed away from the desk and glanced at the clock. It was a little early for dinner, but I had to get out of this room and stop wallowing in self-pity. I grabbed my laptop, tucked it under my arm, and headed down to one of the common rooms. There were three such rooms where people could hang out and watch TV or talk. They had wet bars if you wanted a drink, and no one seemed to care how old you were. Roland and Peter had been so envious when I told them that part.

TV sounds drew me to one of the rooms, and when I peeked in I found a single occupant, a blond boy named Michael, who I’d met on my second day here. Michael was fifteen, and he was quiet and reserved compared to the other kids here. He was a bit of a computer geek, too, and he spent most of his free time on his laptop, gaming and talking to his friends online. On my third day here, I was struck down by a vicious migraine, and it was Michael who had come to my room to see how I was doing and to ask if I needed anything. The healers said my headache was probably brought on by stress, but it was so bad that even the gunna paste had no effect on it. I lay in bed suffering for the better part of a day before I remembered the tiny vial of troll bile I’d brought with me. I’d planned to destroy it, but thankfully I never got around to it. A single drop of bile in a glass of water was all it took to rid me of the horrible pain.

Michael was sitting in an armchair, engrossed in his laptop as usual, when I took a seat on the couch. “Hey, Michael.”

“Oh . . . hi, Sara,” he stammered, smiling shyly. Poor guy, I didn’t know how he would ever make it as a warrior if he didn’t get over his nervousness. I almost rolled my eyes. Like I had room to judge others. I was probably the worst trainee in Mohiri history.

“What are you up to?”

“Not much, just talking to a friend.” He leaned on the arm of his chair and his face lit up. “Did you hear that they wiped out a huge nest in Las Vegas yesterday?”

“How big was it?” The last time I saw a vampire, he had twelve of his friends with him. I couldn’t imagine facing more than that.

“I heard it was thirty suckers, and it only took two units to take them all down. Of course, that’s because Nikolas Danshov ran the mission. He probably took out half of them himself.”

My mouth went dry. “Nikolas was there?”

His eyes practically glowed from excitement. “Yeah. What I wouldn’t give to see him in action. They say he can take out half a dozen suckers at one time without breaking a sweat.”

“Yep,” I replied absently, remembering Nikolas facing down a dozen vampires and easily disposing of three of them.

“What’s he like? You know him right? Everyone says you even fought suckers together.”

I held back a sigh. It had taken less than a day here to learn Nikolas was something of a superhero among the younger Mohiri. “Nikolas is an amazing warrior.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “I know that. I mean, what’s it like hanging out with him?”

I let out a short laugh. “Nikolas doesn’t hang out. He glares at you and tries to boss you around. Then he leaves. We spent more time fighting with each other than the vampires.”

Michael’s cornflower-blue eyes widened. “No one argues with Nikolas.”

“He might be a great warrior, but he’s still just a person, Michael, and half the time he’s an arrogant pain in the butt.”

“Who’s an arrogant pain in the butt?” asked a new voice, and I looked at the two boys entering the room. Josh ran a hand through his unruly blond hair and elbowed Terrence before sitting beside me on the couch. “She must be talking about you, buddy.”

Terrence scoffed as he plunked down in one of the other chairs. With his mocha skin, artfully spiked black hair, and stunning hazel eyes, he was easily one of the best looking guys I had ever seen. He looked at Michael. “Whatcha up to, Mike?”

“Nothing,” Michael mumbled. He gathered up his laptop and stood timidly. “Um, I have some stuff to do. Talk to you later.”

I watched him hurry from the room, feeling bad that we had scared him away. “He doesn’t seem to fit in here much. He’s an orphan too, right?”

Terrence nodded, wearing a sympathetic smile. “Yes, poor kid.” I gave him a hard look, and he quickly added, “Oh I don’t mean it that way. I have nothing against orphans. He’s just never gotten over losing his family.”

I was afraid to ask, but I did anyway. “What happened to them?”

“What else? Suckers got them. He and his brother were living with their mother in Atlanta when our people found them. But the same night they went to get them, the suckers went after them. Only Michael got out. His mother didn’t make it, and the warriors couldn’t find Matthew. The suckers took him.”

“How old was his brother?”

“Matthew was his twin, and they were seven when it happened.” Terrence sank back heavily in his chair. “They never found Matthew, and Michael still believes his brother got away. No one can convince him otherwise. He spends most of his time searching the Internet, looking at missing persons websites, public records – stuff like that.”

“That’s awful.” I’d lost my dad to a vampire, but at least I knew he was dead and I didn’t have to go through life wondering what had happened to him. I’d spent ten years just trying to understand why he was killed, and I could not imagine how hard it would be if he had gone missing like Michael’s brother.

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