Sins of the Innocent: A Novella (15 page)

BOOK: Sins of the Innocent: A Novella
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“It was a freak accident.”

Morgan was still unhappy.

“Morg, if it makes you feel better, come over and meet them all. Just … call first. My grandmother is a little weird about guests.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Good.” I looked at my watch. “I’d better head out. Training.”

“You should train with Levi. He seems like he knows his stuff.”

I breathed out a laugh. “Yeah, maybe I should.”

The ground was still wet, even after warming all day in the summer sun. I curled my toes in my sneakers and cracked my knuckles, standing before Levi in the courtyard. My family stood in the corners. Claire could barely contain her anticipation, Bex and Dad watched with interest, and Mom and Ryan looked concerned.

“You ready?” I asked Levi.

A permanent frown had taken over his beautiful face since sunrise. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll lose?”

“We’re equal, Eden. It will take more than strength. You’ll have to use your head.”

“Use my head?”

“Yes, you can’t just—”

I reared back and head-butt him, my forehead knocking hard into his. He fell backward and then scrambled back to stand.

“Like that?” I asked.

Claire hopped up and down, too excited to stand still. “I told you. She’s got this.”

Dad hushed her.

Levi strolled around me in a wide circle. “I want to reiterate that I don’t want to do this.”

I crouched into a defensive position. “You’re supposed to challenge me. All I hear is talk.”

He put his hands on his hips and looked down. “This is not what I had in mind when I thought about what it would be like to see you again.” His jaw worked under his skin, and then he looked up at me.

“Stop being a baby, and hit her!” Claire yelled.

“This brings back memories,” Mom said quietly to Dad.

“Just try,” I said.

“Eden …”

“We don’t have all day!” Claire yelled.

“Okay then,” I said. “We’ll try this a different way.”

I went in for the attack, throwing a punch. Levi bent back, preventing my knuckles from connecting with his face by mere centimeters. He threw a punch, and I stepped to the side. He moved past me, and I spun and kicked his back, forcing him several steps forward.

He turned around, and I frowned.

“You’re not trying,” I said.

I lunged at him again, landing a punch to his mouth, and when he spun, I grabbed him, wrapping my arms around his middle. My back bent, and I let the both of us fall backward. Levi’s head crashed into the cement below. Then I grabbed his ankles before tossing him across the courtyard, and he fell back against Bex.

Bex pushed him back, and Levi stood up, wiping blood from his lip.

He nodded. “Pretty good.”

Claire grabbed him, holding him against the outer wall of our house. “You saw what happened to her last night. Do you want that to happen again? What if you’re distracted? What if you can’t get to her? Do you want her to know what to do to protect herself? Or do you want her to die while she’s waiting on you to save her?”

Levi looked back at me and then nodded to my aunt.

He walked back to the center of the courtyard and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t hit me yet,” I said.

In a blur—faster than Bex, faster than Claire, even faster than my father—Levi attacked. His elbow met my shoulder, nearly sending me to the ground, and then he spun, ramming his foot into the back of my knee. Before I could right myself, he kicked my back, sending me to the soil.

He gave me a moment to stand, and then I shifted my weight, all of my focus being drawn in without effort. My adrenaline replaced thoughts with instinct, and I lunged for him again. I met each of his blows with my own, sometimes taking the full force of his elbow or knee, sometimes knocking him to the ground.

Five minutes went by, and the pace didn’t let up. After ten minutes, the intensity only amplified. Neither of us would let up. We were punching, kicking, spinning, using anything handy to throw or stab or smash.

I stumbled back, holding myself up with my hands on my thighs, heaving.

“Good,” Levi said, spitting a glob of blood on the ground. “That was good. Could be better, but we’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Who taught you how to fight?” Claire asked.

Levi stood up, stretching his back, squinting one eye with the pain. “You pick up a few things when you live among the most evil beings in existence. She’s tougher though,” he said, nodding to me.

“I haven’t seen the”—she held up her finger and moved her arm in a circle—“thing before.”

Levi smiled at me, still breathing hard. “She handled it.”

“What do I”—I took in a couple of breaths—“need to work on?”

“Speed and anticipation mostly,” Levi said. “You’ve been sparring with the same people for too long. You’re surprised too easily, and you’re not sure how to recoup.”

I nodded, putting my hands on my hips. Levi limped over to me, letting me put my arm around his neck. We hobbled together to the house where Mom had set up a makeshift triage in the kitchen.

Mom was more than just unhappy.

But Grandmother was livid. “You couldn’t have spared the sixteenth-century garden bench? Did you have to splinter it across his back?”

“Yes,” I said, grunting as I climbed onto a portable table covered with a plastic sheet.

Levi was on the floor across the room with Dad and Bex.

Claire poured antiseptic over a wound on my ribs, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

“This will be healed by morning,” Claire said, pulling out the gauze and Ace bandages. “Let me see your arm.”

I held it out, revealing a laceration that spanned my forearm from elbow to wrist.

“Oh!” Mom said, looking away and holding her wrist to her nose, keeping her gloved hand sterile. “I saw bone.”

“That might take a little longer,” Claire said.

I leaned over, getting a better look. “It’s not that bad,” I said, watching as the blood poured from the wound onto the plastic on the floor.

“He fileted you,” Mom said. She turned to look at Levi, who was being doctored on the other side of the kitchen.

“Is she okay?” Levi asked.

“I will kill you myself,” Mom seethed.

“Mom, stop.” I held my breath as Claire worked. “We were sparring. It was a fair fight.”

Levi’s brows pulled together, and he tried to stand. “Let me see her.”

Dad and Bex held him down.

“Hang on,” Dad said. “Let’s get this wound closed up before your guts spill out.”

“What?” I said, looking over at him.

Levi laughed once, clearly in pain. “It’s fine. He’s exaggerating.”

“No, he’s not,” Ryan said from the doorway, his arms crossed.

I could tell by his expression that he was telling the truth.

“He’s not fine or Dad’s not exaggerating?” I asked.

“Both,” Ryan said.

I sat up.

“Eden!” Mom yelled.

“He’s fine!” Bex said around the strip of tape hanging from his mouth. He was working fast.

I lay back, shaking my head. “This was a bad idea. We could have killed each other.”

“We wouldn’t have let it go that far,” Claire said. “We need him alive for Bex, remember?”

“I’m not feeling the love,” Levi said.

“You let it go pretty far,” Mom snapped at Claire.

“We had to see her limit. I’m not sure we’ve seen it. She could have beaten him.”

“I heard that,” Levi yelled.

“But she needs more practice,” Claire said. “He’s right. She’s slow on the return, and she needs to work on anticipation. She’s not intercepting like she should.” She looked down at me. “But you’ll get there. I’m impressed.”

I smiled, and Claire brushed back my sweat-saturated hair from my face.

“Don’t get blood on the curtains!” Grandmother scolded, holding up plastic against the windows next to Levi.

“He’s not in any shape to go home alone,” I said.

“He won’t be alone,” Bex said.

“They’re sending groups to attack,” I said. “Bex will need backup.”

“He can stay here,” Mom said.

“In whatever room is farthest away from yours,” Dad said without humor.

Once Mom and Claire finished patching me up, Claire helped me to my feet. Dad and Bex were still working on Levi. He was lying patiently, happy to see me upright.

“Dad?” I asked.

“His abdomen was tricky. I would have taken him to the hospital if I wasn’t sure we’d all be arrested. I could explain a bullet wound better than something like this.”

“He looks like he’s been in combat,” Ryan said.

“You okay?” Claire asked, readjusting my arm around her neck. “Any flashbacks?”

Ryan shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“Levi will be all right,” Dad said. “Working on the smaller stuff now.”

“C’mon, kiddo,” Claire said. “Let’s get you to bed. You need to rest.”

“I’ll see you later,” Levi said, watching me shuffle out of the kitchen.

Mom and Claire helped me climb the stairs one agonizing step at a time. I’d never been so injured, and I wasn’t sure the extent of Levi’s wounds. My instincts had taken over, and my memory of the entire match was hazy.

Claire picked me up and lowered me to my queen bed, propping my head with a pillow.

“I’m not helpless,” I said.

“I don’t want you reopening that wound.”

“Did you put some plastic beneath?” Grandmother said from the doorway. “She’ll seep and ruin the linens.”

“Cynthia!” Mom snapped. “For God’s sake.”

“She’s just worried, Mom.”

Claire went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet before returning with a wet rag. She folded it into quarters and then laid it across my forehead. “You did good. You’ve been holding way back with me. I’m jealous.”

Grandmother brought a glass of water, helping me to take a sip.

“You guys are making me feel like I’m dying.”

“Well, you’re not,” Grandmother said. “You’re just dehydrated. Besides, you’re not allowed to die—not on these sheets.”

I breathed out a laugh. “Thank you.”

She touched my cheek. “Rest. I’ll make you something delicious for dinner.”

I nodded, and she stood, leaving without another word.

“Cynthia thinks a gourmet meal can fix anything,” Claire said.

“It can.” I grunted as I tried to sit up higher.

“Here. Let me help,” Claire said.

“I’m really fine.”

“No, in an hour, you’ll be fine. For right now, you need to give yourself time to heal, or it will take longer.”

Mom pulled off her gloves and blew her bangs from her eyes. “All right. Your cell is on the nightstand. Text if you need anything.” She walked over to place a small kiss on my nose and then held the door opened, waiting for Claire.

“Oh, I guess that means I should leave.”

“She needs rest,” Mom said, her tone final.

Claire raised her brows. “See you in a bit.” She fake-punched my arm and then stood up, the bed moving as she did.

The door closed, and I sat alone, the mid-day sun pouring in through the windows. The baby-pink curtains hadn’t changed since we moved in, and I didn’t have the heart to tell Mom that I wasn’t in love with that color anymore. I hadn’t been even before Uncle Ryan started teasing me about it.

The ivory furniture was older than me, and the books and toys were still in place, like time had frozen on one side of the room. The other side had aged with me with my music, magazines, and the pair of daggers hanging on the wall that Claire had gifted me for my twelfth birthday.

A knock sounded on the door, and Bex peeked his head in. “Are you sleeping?”

I shook my head.

“You look like hell,” he said.

“Thanks.”

He turned. “I don’t think you want to see her.”

The door opened wider, and Levi stood there, shirtless, covered in tape and bloody gauze. He was hunched over and sweaty, dirt still smeared on his face from the many times I’d tackled or knocked him to the ground.

“Yes, I do,” he said, sounding exhausted. He shouldered past Bex.

“Easy!” Bex said. “Your entrails are going to blow out of that gash onto her rug, and then Cynthia will hate you forever.”

Levi ignored him, slowly making his way to my bed.

Bex sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Why did you give me him? I’m going to die.”

Levi crawled into bed beside me, lying down on his side, resting his head on my pillow. His brows pulled together. “I told you we shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m more equipped to handle an attack than I was when I woke up this morning. I call that success.”

Bex closed the door, but I could still feel him in the hall.

I reached over, sliding my fingers between Levi’s, and he relaxed, letting his face sink into the pillow.

“I wondered how you were going to react to all of this,” he said. “I worried you would reject our life before.”

“It’s strange. I have the memories, and I know they’re mine, but I didn’t experience them—at least, not in this life. So, it feels more like a wonderful dream than a previous life.”

“It happened. I was there.”

“Me, too,” I said, trying not to laugh … or breathe. Everything hurt.

My eyes opened and closed slowly, feeling exhaustion setting in. I didn’t remember ever being so tired.

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