Tithe Page 3

  “No, heart.” He pulled away, and she caught his dark expression just before he turned his head. “I did not.”

  There was a sad air about him now, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Melancholy wasn’t an emotion she was used to him showing. Mavek was the type who was always in control, carefully concealing the thoughts swirling through his mind. The fact that he was letting his guard down enough for her to note his dire mood was strange in and of itself.

  “Eat up,” he ordered, flicking a finger at the cupcake and the remainder of her grinder before moving over to the fridge. “Afterward, I want to see that you’ve kept up on more than just your mental training.” He let out a dissatisfied growl when he peered into the empty refrigerator. “And then we’re going shopping, damn it.”

  “I meant to do that today.” She had, after classes, which she’d skipped. Smartly, she kept that last bit to herself; it would only start an argument. Not because she’d bailed, but because he’d never wanted her to bother with an education anyway. He thought he could teach her everything she needed to know.

  Of course, that was only as long as she remained a Heartless, and Arden had no intention of being that for the rest of her life, as he well knew. They both had bigger plans for her future, and unfortunately for him, hers included a shiny—albeit probably useless—college degree.

  After she’d finished eating, he carried the plates to the sink and then left the room, expecting her to follow him downstairs. The basement stretched across the entire floor of the house, and he led her down rickety stairs, frowning at the way the railing shook in his hand. The glare he sent over his shoulder told her that he was going to have it fixed without consulting her.

  Above, the house looked like the regular dwelling of an eighteen-year-old girl, but below…

  Mavek stopped at the foot of the stairs and stared at a framed photo of Buffy mid-kick from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He tilted his head, smiling despite his earlier annoyance at just about everything.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  “Thank you.” She hopped down the last step and glanced around, making sure she hadn’t left anything out of place.

  One corner was set up with a punching bag, another area for throwing knives, with an additional quiet spot for a small library. Her library contained only two tiny bookcases with three shelves each, but the shelves were stuffed with so many volumes that some overflowed onto the floor.

  “Been busy,” he was looking at the books now as he spoke, moving to the center of the room onto a large black foam mat. “Show me.”

  Trying to mask her trepidation, she moved to the mat and took a position across from him. Over the past twelve months, she’d been learning how to defend herself, but not in any traditional sense. She couldn’t claim to know any specific form of martial arts. Everything she was taught was supposed to help her defend herself against the Unseelie, not against other humans.

  However, it was other humans she would be meeting on All Saints’ Eve.

  He moved without warning, slashing forward in a blur of black and blue. He vaulted over her when she dropped to her knees, rolling forward and spinning back to face him. His eyes sparkled, the green almost luminescent.

  The Unseelie had the ability to glamour those of weaker minds, to confuse and distract. Once, she would have succumbed, but now she knew to tear her gaze away. Diving forward, she slipped a piece of metal from a hidden sheath in her boot and pressed it to his throat before he could get away.

  Mavek’s eyes widened, the color returning to that sharp hazel, and then he laughed, a deep throaty sound that had her spine straightening.

  “Iron, heart?” he asked. “Really? A trick.”

  “It’s what we do, right?” She frowned when some of his mirth dimmed, dropping her arm when he pulled away so that she wouldn’t risk nicking him. The iron knife was small, only as long as her palm, and fitted snuggly to the side of her ankle. When she stood up again, he was staring at the wall across the room.

  “What’s wrong?” Hadn’t she done everything right?

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Iron, for your kind,” she twisted her foot to indicate the knife at her left, then turned and made the same motion with her right, “and steel for mine.”

  “Yes,” he agreed in almost a whisper, “for my kind.” Then he directed, “Switch the steel for silver. Better safe than sorry. Arden, things might get… difficult over the next few weeks. I want you to be cautious. Prepared for anything.”

  “I’m a Heartless,” she stated, hating when he spoke to her like she was anything but. “Rule six is to always be cautious.”

  “And rule one is to always take me at my word.”

  The tight way he spoke made her pause, and then she nodded her head.

  “Was it something I said?” He’d been fine moments ago, before they’d come down here. She’d thought he’d be pleased with her progress. Instead, he still carried that sadness with him, and now it had morphed into something more. “Why are you worried? Is this about what you were looking for? What is it? Maybe I can help.”

  “You can’t.” He shook his head sharply.

  “If you tell me—”

  “There’s no time,” he cut her off and then gently cupped her face in his hands. “It’s you and me.”

  “Always,” she agreed without hesitation, though his words fell falsely on her ears. She tried—and failed—to ignore the painful pang that they caused.

  The corner of his mouth quirked up and he let her go, heading for the stairs. “Now, let’s go fill your fridge. I can’t have you dying of starvation on me. What a pathetic way to go.”

  “What?” She followed. “Not a death befitting a Heartless?”

  She’d meant it as a joke, but when his back stiffened and he froze, she realized it was the wrong thing to say. He was edgier than usual. Talking about their situation, her situation in particular, had always been an easy thing between them.

  “Do you intend to die, Arden?” He wouldn’t look at her. “It would solve your problem just as easily.”

  “You know that’s not true,” she corrected. “Of course I don’t want to die, Mavek. Why are you asking me something so ridiculous? Why are you acting this way at all? What happened while you were away? You won’t tell me what you were out there seeking, fine, but I know something happened while you were gone.”

  The silence stretched around them for a while, and just as her patience was wearing thin, he began moving up the stairs once more.

  “Come,” he called, “If we don’t hurry the only store open will be the Snowberry Mart, and we both know how you feel about their selection.”

  With no way to goad him into revealing more, Arden dropped the subject and followed.

  The blond was already seated when she entered her literary class three days later.

  Arden avoided her usual middle seat, taking the same one at his right as the last time. She waited while he scrawled something in one of his notebooks. The second he glanced up, a silent question in his eyes, she smirked. “Hello, Eskel Montgomery.”

  He stilled, a strand of blond hair obscuring one of his bright blue eyes. Then he pushed back and leaned against his chair back, casually recapping his pen. The move was precise, a stall tactic.

  “Hello, Arden Archer.”

  She unzipped her backpack and dropped the heavy book onto her desk. “Brought my own this time.”

  “Good for you.”

  “How are you liking Thornbrooke so far?”

  “It’s surprisingly not as friendly as you.” He shifted and narrowed his eyes, though he was smiling at her. “Are you the welcoming committee or something?”

  “I’m the last person you want welcoming you.” The words had barely left her mouth when she realized their truth. He didn’t know about her past. He didn’t know what she was, which meant that he didn’t know how to protect himself. And in this town, keeping safe was a feat, especially if he was caught hangi
ng around one of the Heartless—namely, her.

  Fortunately, the professor came in, forcing them into silence before she could botch the conversation any further.

  For the remainder of class, Arden avoided looking in Eskel Montgomery’s direction, even when she felt him staring at her. Barely able to follow along with the reading, she jotted down the homework assignment in chicken-scratch before bolting from the room the second class ended.

  She didn’t wait to find out if he found her behavior odd.

  Outside, the air was icy and she gulped down a huge breath, inhaling the calming scent of dying leaves. She was overreacting. He hadn’t seemed all that interested in becoming her friend anyway; it wasn’t like the two of them were going to start hitting the movies or grabbing pizza at Tollbooth’s.

  Although her next class wasn’t for another three hours, she was meeting Tabby for lunch in the dining hall. She took her time heading there, instantly spotting Tabby in the corner by the back windows. She realized she had a sudden craving for pepperoni and grabbed a slice from the food bar before meeting up with her.

  “How was class?” Tabby asked, punctuating her question with slurping, scraping noises as she sucked on the straw in her soda can. “Damn. Hold that thought.”

  Arden shook her head as her friend jumped up and crossed the room for a refill. She’d just lifted the slice of pizza to her mouth when someone dropped down into the empty seat across her. She blinked when her eyes locked onto deep blue ones.

  “You really gonna eat that?” Eskel shook his head and made a face at the dripping pizza frozen in transit to her mouth. “It’s a far cry from the place in town.” Grease was already pooling in a triangular pattern on her plate.

  “That’s so true,” Tabby said, dropping down next to him and popping the tab on her fresh soda can. “What’s up, boy-from-the-bookstore?”

  “Eskel,” he offered, lifting his chin in greeting.

  “Tabitha.” She held out a hand. “But everyone calls me Tabby.”

  Arden went back to eating. Wasn’t like there was anything she could do about him sitting there anyway. They fell into a weird silence for a moment where the two of them stared across the table at her.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” Tabby asked him then, motioning to the empty space in front of him. He hadn’t bothered grabbing a plate, and didn’t seem to be in any rush to do so.

  “I didn’t come in here for food.” He waited until Arden met his gaze. “Are you working tonight?”

  “I am,” Tabby waved her hand, and then finding herself ignored, took a loud sip of her soda.

  “Actually, no,” Arden hedged. She was supposed to meet Mavek at Rose Manor around five.

  “Want to do something?” he asked.

  She wasn’t sure what had prompted his one-eighty; she’d been pressing him to make conversation earlier, now he was asking her out? Though she reminded herself that he didn’t necessarily mean a date.

  “I don’t know anyone around here,” he added, almost like he’d read her mind, and alarm bells went off in her head.

  Stupid. Knowing Mavek and the rest of his kind had made her suspicious. He was just a new kid trying to get used to his surroundings and make friends. That was usual, normal even. Just because she hadn’t experienced normal in a while didn’t mean that it didn’t exist without her.

  “Tabby’s off at six,” she supplied.

  “I’m not asking Tabby,” he said, glancing at their topic of conversation. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” Tabby held up both hands, cleared her throat, and then stood and collected her things. “You know what, I’m going to be late for my next class. I’ll catch you guys later.”

  Arden waited until she was out of ear shot and then glared at him. “Nice.”

  “You’re the one who brought her into this. Come on. You’re the only person here who’s even bothered speaking to me. Show me around town later. What have you got to lose?”

  “Aside from my time?” she countered. “I can’t. I’ve got plans already.”

  “Right.” He got to his feet and then pulled a folded piece of line paper from his back pocket. He must have torn it from his notebook back in class. Tossing it onto the table in front of her, he smiled and turned to leave. “In case you change your mind.”

  Arden unfolded the paper and frowned. When she looked up he was already halfway to the door.

  She thought about throwing the phone number out, but something made her pause. Instead, she stuffed it into her pocket and then finished off her slice of pizza without tasting a single bite.

  She left the dining hall and decided to walk around the grounds to kill the remaining time before her next class. The September air was chilled, and a gusty wind blew curled orange and umber leaves across the trimmed lawn of the south quad. They crunched beneath her boots as she headed deeper into the woods that rimmed this portion of the college.

  She zipped up her black sweatshirt, tucking her hands deep into the thin pockets while she silently cursed herself for not bringing something thicker. The return of the Unseelie had distracted her; she was forgetting basic self-care. Like checking the forecast in the morning. She was already dreading winter, when snow and ice would slick the streets and make her bike ride even more unbearable.

  Not that she really had a choice; her mother’s car was a rusted old clunker that died less than two months after she’d passed away. Arden didn’t have the money to replace it, and she had only recently gotten Mavek to stop offering to get her one himself. It was prideful, but she didn’t want his charity. It was hard enough keeping the lines drawn between them, recalling all the reasons why her embarrassing crush on him couldn’t continue or grow. He was a dark thing, an Unseen thing. Fae.

  She was a girl.

  “But not just a girl,” she mumbled to herself, her breath puffing out in a white cloud before her. No, she’d never been and would never be just a girl, not unless she beat this thing on All Saints’ Eve. If she did, she’d be free. Her family would be free. Her sister might even be able to return home.

  A high branch in one of the large oaks overhead creaked, enough to give her pause. A figure jumped from its lofty perch, landing in front of her with barely a sound.

  “Hello, Heartless.” The voice was cool, neither friendly nor threatening. There was a burning interest flickering in his smoky gray eyes.

  “Cato, are you spying on me?” She kept her hands in her pockets despite her nerves. Logically, she knew he wouldn’t harm her—not unless he had a death wish—but she was still a human in the end. The sharp tang of dark magic that came off him affected her the same way it would anyone else.

  “You passed by me,” he pointed up toward the thick branches that had been concealing him, “as you may recall. What are you doing so far from home, Heartless?”

  “I’m walking,” she replied before continuing once more. Instinct told her to turn around, but she kept to her original path, moving deeper into the woods and farther from the crowded safety of campus.

  The faerie fell into step beside her, brushing a strand of his copper toned hair behind an ear. His eyes glimmered with mischief, though he managed to keep silent for a few precious moments of peace.

  It didn’t last long.

  “You should be more careful,” he taunted. “Things lurk in these woods.”

  “I know. I’ve seen them since I was a child, as you may recall.”

  “That I do.” He chuckled and shifted closer so that his shoulder grazed against her own. He was dressed like a college student in tight worn jeans with a brown leather jacket thrown over a black T-shirt. Even in such nondescript clothes, however, he screamed trouble. No disguise could hide that fact.

  “Does he know that you’ve turned yourself into my tail?” she asked, keeping with the easy, conversational tone. Irking him wasn’t a good idea, and not something she intended to try at this point in time.

  “The Midnight Prince would not approve.”

 
“Neither does this Heartless.” She stopped abruptly, turning to face him. He was grinning at her, but she kept her expression blank. “What is it you want, Cato?”

  “Put away your thorns, Arden Archer. I only came to see what you were up to. It’s so hard to catch you at one of the revelries. You stick to the shadows so well,” his eyes narrowed playfully, “almost as if you were one of us.”

  “I’ll never be one of you,” she murmured, and even she couldn’t tell how she felt about that truth.

  “Futures shift, Heartless, you’d do well to remember that.”

  “Well,” she finally gave in and took a deliberate step back the way they’d come, “thanks for the pep talk, Unseelie. You can leave me alone now.”

  “Ouch.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Calling me what I am to compel me to go? Rude, Arden Archer, very rude indeed.”

  “Might I remind you that you started it with all that Heartless bullshit?” She twisted on her heel and turned so that she could keep him in sight as she walked backward. “If you keep the name calling to a minimum, I will as well. Unlike some, I follow the rules.”

  “You try to, anyway.” He shrugged, the grin still on his angelic face. Tapping two fingers to his forehead as a farewell, he disappeared.

  She spun back toward campus, keeping her steps even so as to seem calm. Predators liked to give chase after all, and no matter what disguise they chose to wear, she knew the truth.

  The Unseelie fae were dangerous.

  After class, Arden headed home to take a hot shower and get ready for the night. She thought of the faerie in the woods while she did, remembering the first time she’d met Cato as a kid.

  The sight ran through her family, only touching the women of her line. Her mother had it, and her sister as well, which was why Arden had insisted that Ainsley go to Nevada. Their aunt lived in a big city, a place few fae ever traveled to. Until the Tithe, Ainsley was safest there.

  If it had been the sight alone that cursed their family, it wouldn’t be so bad. Arden shook her head, tugging on a pea coat the color of pale pink rose petals. Pointless, to wish for things that couldn’t be. Becoming a Heartless had taught her that.