Acropolis (16 page)

"We have to quit meeting like this," I say
lightly. "You know, nighttime, intense mood."

Conor chuckles.

"She's suddenly got a sense of humor, our
Emma Chase."

I smile, and it feels good. I feel different,
stronger. I am suddenly glad the gargoyles found me. For the first
time, I feel like I am living. And I'm not afraid. Even knowing I
face death here, even knowing there are a million challenges ahead
I'm probably still not aware of, I am living. I can discover who I
am. I am not death anymore.

There is a rustling sound in the darkness,
and I feel something slip into my hand. It's a piece of foil
wrapped gum.

"It's not mint ice cream, but it'll have to
do."

I grin as I unwrap it. It's spearmint.

"It's not raining either."

"Do you want it to?" Conor asks.

I sit up.

"No!" I say quickly. "I may not remember much
of that sea journey you took me on, but showers and baths are
enough water for me for awhile."

Conor snorts, and I realize he's trying not
to laugh. I am tempted to hit him, but our connection is too new.
He still makes me nervous, and I'm not sure we are even friends. It
doesn't matter how comfortable I feel around him. He's my Guardian.
My life is in his hands. It's a little daunting knowing this. I'm
fallible.

"How long will they keep me separated from
the other Demons?" I ask.

Conor is still.

"I don't think it will be long. You seem to
be a fast learner."

I feel anger sweep through me, and I know
it's coming from the other room. I've felt this anger before.

"Lyre plans to kill me," I say.

Silence stretches between us and then, "She's
jealous."

I'm not expecting this response from Conor,
and I know my mouth hangs open.

"Of my power?" I ask.

"Partly," Conor answers.

Partly?

"There's another reason?"

"Yeah," Conor says. "Me."

I don't move. My chest is tight. Nothing I
say in that moment will be right. I want to ask why, but I
don't.

"I've made mistakes," Conor says
suddenly.

I still don't move, but I do breathe. The
exhale is audible.

"Everyone makes mistakes," I say slowly.

"You say that because it's the nice thing to
say."

Conor shifts away from me.

"I say that because I'm not quite sure what
you're getting at. Is this a confession?" I ask.

Conor laughs, but it sounds as harsh as it
does amused.

"When I was sixteen, I slept with Lyre."

It is blunt, his words, and rushed. And for a
confession, this is a bad one. If there are words I'm supposed to
say, they don't come to me. I'm not quite sure how to feel. On one
hand, I don't know Conor well enough to be incredibly upset. On the
other, I think I have a Deidra crush on him, and it's been severely
skewered.

"Oh," I say finally.

Conor moves and I know by the way one of his
legs brush mine that's he's brought his knees up and is resting an
arm across them. Being tall is not comfortable on these beds. I
would know.

"I could make an excuse, but I won't. I
didn't know she was a Demon at the time. But my actions are still
the same. She's not the only one. The only Demon, but not the only
girl."

My voice is small when I speak again.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask

"Because I don't want you to idolize me. And
don't pretend you don't feel disgust. I made my reputation. I can't
change it, and I don't know that I would now. My mistakes have
shaped me. I think in the end, I've overcome them."

I don't doubt this, but he's right. I feel
jaded by his confession. I think maybe I have been too sheltered.
Conor sighs before moving off the bed.

"Go to sleep, Emma."

I hear him climbing to the bunk above
mine.

"You're going to need the rest. Tomorrow you
won't be with the other hybrids. You'll be faced with full blooded
Demons."

His words don't comfort me. And as I fall
asleep, all I can think is, my Guardian is not perfect. He is
fallible. He is real.

Chapter 23

Conor

I don't sleep. I stare up at the ceiling's
exposed beams instead. They are grey and charcoal. Gargoyles can
see in the dark but only in various shades of grey. I suddenly hate
the ability. I can't get past the last look Emma had given me. It
hadn't been disgust exactly. Disappointment, maybe. Disappointment
is worse.

Emma is sleeping below me, tossing
restlessly, and I wonder if the emotions in the other room are
seeping into her sleep. If they are, I need to be on alert. If
she's a sleep walker, she can be more than just a little dangerous.
Being insensible with amazing powers equals horrible destruction.
But then again, I'm in the mood for a fight.

"It might help if you count sheep," Emma says
suddenly from below me. It startles me, and I freeze before
smiling. The words are familiar ones, and I remember another night,
me on the floor, Emma on my bed.

"Counting doesn't help," I say, throwing her
words back at her.

She laughs a little, and for a moment I let
myself pretend I'm not her Guardian, that it isn't my duty to keep
her in line. She's made me more aware of my hatred for Demons, and
I'm beginning to realize it isn't all fair.

"Did I wake you?" I ask.

She rolls again.

"You're worried," she says.

Emotions are messing with her dreams, but
they aren't coming from the main room. They belong to me. I'm not
sure how to answer her. Worried is a mild word for the chaos going
on in my head.

"I'm fine, Em. Go to sleep."

I force my mind blank, thinking instead about
the next day, the trials ahead. There is rustling below, and Emma
is still. Without my stress, she is finally able to sleep. But my
body won't let me join her. I am too keyed up.

The Acropolis is a good idea. The school is
transforming hybrid Demons, turning them from Hell's ranks and
bringing them over to our cause. But Luther is right. The school is
a prison. Each student is guarded, the violent are put to death,
and the non-violent are forced into compliance. They don't choose
to join our ranks. We need change.

I pull my cell phone out of my pocket, my
fingers running silently over the keys. The cell phone belongs to
the Inner Circle. All calls are traced. I shove it under my pillow
and stare at the ceiling.

I'm not sure I sleep, but there is suddenly
sound in the room beyond, and I know the other students are
stirring. I sit up, propelling myself over the side of the bed
before opening a drawer in a table nearby. Emma's clothes sit on
top, and I avoid staring at them as I pull out an extra pair of
jeans and a t-shirt Will has left behind for me. I notice the shirt
is red. It matches Emma's. Apparently, Will is still upset about
Emma's treatment in class the day before. Guardians never wear the
same color as the hybrids. It suggests unity.

I change quickly before turning to the bed.
Emma is sprawled on her stomach, one pajama clad leg hanging out
from under the comforter, the other tangled in the sheets. Her hair
hangs in a tangled mess around her face. She has a fist against her
cheek. Her other hand is tucked under her pillow, and her lips are
parted slightly. She doesn't snore, but I wouldn't be surprised if
she drools.

I pinch my lips together to keep from smiling
as I make my way over to her side, poking her gently between her
shoulder blades. She swats at my hand, and I poke her again. This
time she opens an eye and immediately jumps.

"Geez!" she shrieks.

She hits her head on the bunk above her, and
she rubs at the spot as she scowls at me. I lose the smiling
battle.

"Do you ever cuss, Em?" I ask.

She rubs her red-rimmed eyes and looks around
the room, her gaze landing on the pile of clothes.

"I don't guess so," she says as she climbs
out of the bed, moving over to the table slowly. "I've never really
thought about it. I guess I don't see any point in it."

I am suddenly taken aback by the
differences in us. Her mother is a Demon. She has the blood of
monsters, and she is innocent, straight forward, and clean-mouthed.
I'm a Guardian, a gargoyle whose destiny has always been to
protect, and I lack all of the same qualities. I keep hearing
Luther's voice in my head.
The lines are
blurred, Reinhardt. The lines are blurred
.

"Get dressed. I'll wait outside. There's a
brush in the drawer."

Emma nods, her hand rubbing self-consciously
at the tangles in her dark hair. It's probably the first time she's
had to worry about looking presentable for anyone in the morning. I
want to tell her it doesn't bother me, but I don't.

I walk out, closing the door behind me and
wait, my arms crossed as I face the outer room. Curious gazes meet
mine, but I keep my expression even. Most of the Guardians are up
and alert. The hybrids are sluggish. A few still sit on bottom
bunks. A male hybrid I don't know rubs his hands over his face
before throwing a shirt at another male hybrid across the room.

"Dude, you have got to quit putting your shit
in my space. It can't be that hard to remember which bunk is
yours."

The other hybrid flips him off and changes
shirts.

"Sleep well, Reinhardt?" a female voice asks,
but I ignore it. Showing any reaction will only feed Lyre's
anger.

The door creaks open from behind me, and I
turn to see Emma standing uncertainly in the open entrance. She's
in the red t-shirt and jeans, both obviously borrowed. She isn't
having luck in the shirt department. People keep assuming she's not
as tall as she is, and she pulls at the hem as the room beyond
grows quiet. Our shirts have garnered attention. I don't make
excuses.

"Everyone to the showers!" Grace Withers
shouts, and I'm more than a little grateful for her
interference.

The Demons move, but they don't do it without
complaint. Emma showered the night before separately, but she'll
need to use the bathroom regardless.

"Anyone got an extra kit?" I ask as Emma and
I move toward the other Guardians. Grace nods and reaches into a
trunk at the end of her bunk. She throws a small green nylon bag in
my direction, and I catch it easily before handing it off to
Emma.

"Toothbrush, toothpaste . . . you name it," I
say as she looks at it curiously. "There's a girl's shower to the
right of the entrance."

Emma nods, and I barely glance at the other
Guardians before heading in that direction. The door to the
residence hall opens, and I see Will enter from the grounds beyond
as Emma leaves me. I glare as I settle back against the wall. It's
not safe for me to be too far away from Emma. Will grins.

"Bad morning?" he asks.

"You'd know wouldn't you?" I spit back.

Will's brow furrows.

"No," he says slowly. "What's with the
attitude?"

I pull at my shirt.

"Red, Will?"

He had seen Emma entering the restroom, and
his eyes narrow.

"It wasn't me."

We look at each other.

"Deidra!" we say simultaneously.

Imps! It's simply a pair of shirts, but they
make a big statement. It's going to cause problems.

"Just switch with me," Will says easily.

He pulls a navy tee over his head and hands
it to me. I pull mine off and do the same. Will isn't quite as
broad as I am in the shoulders, but because of his height, we still
wear the same size.

"Guess what the Circle has captured for
training?" Will says conversationally. I barely glance at him, my
eyes on the bathroom.

"Right now, I'm hoping you say a full-blooded
imp."

Will is quiet. Too quiet. I look up.

"What did they capture?"

Will's gaze meets mine.

"A drex."

Chapter 24

Emma

The bathroom is inhabited by at least
thirteen she-Demons, and I am not prepared for the emotions that
slam into me. It is mostly curiosity, although the anger and hatred
I feel at my back is most definitely Lyre.

"How did you manage to get assigned Conor
Reinhardt as a Guardian?" a blonde-haired girl asks me from the
sinks.

I open the kit Conor gave me and settle in
next to her. She is tall. Her head comes to my neck, and she has
wide blue-grey eyes. She runs a toothbrush through her mouth before
spitting loudly.

"I don't know what you mean by did," I say
honestly.

The girl shakes her head.

"Let me guess, you're an adoption case?"

I nod.

"We don't get many of those, but when we do,
they are almost as naive as you. I'm Fiona, by the way," Fiona says
as she offers me her hand.

I take it without thinking, and I am
immediately thrown to the floor. My hand is on fire. Fiona
chuckles, and then offers me her hand again. I shake my head and
stand on my own.

"Electricity," Fiona explains. "I have an
affinity with it. I'm all about laying what we're capable of right
out on the table."

"I'll remember that next time," I grouse as I
turn the sink on, letting the cold water relieve the burning welt
now on my palm.

I look up into the mirror and grimace. The
last couple of days have not been kind to me. There are dark
circles under my eyes and wounds on my head. Thankfully, these are
all covered by my hair, but I'm pretty sure the back of my head
can't take any more damage.

"You could heal those, you know," Fiona says,
and I glance at her. She is watching my reflection.

"Heal what?"

She gestures at my palm, my head.

"Your mother is Enepsigos. She has healing
abilities."

I run a yellow-handled toothbrush through my
mouth as I contemplate her words. Healing abilities?