Chapter Twelve
A rushing in my ears drowns out the laughter and easy chatter of other students roaming the hallway of Southgate, until nothing but a deafening roar plays in my head. I'm vaguely aware of fingers drawing soothing circles between my shoulder blades, slowly chasing the roaring away.
"Breathe, Rhi. You're inside, and you're okay. "
I'm okay.
My eyes flit nervously to Zo, my anchor. My choppy breathing evens out.
"Let's move a little bit," she suggests.
"Where?" I answer meekly.
"Anywhere you want. One step forward is fine."
Though lifting my feet feels akin to moving through cement, I take one step. Then another. And one more. Until I'm finally walking at a steady pace without feeling like I'm being strangled to death by my own intrusive thoughts.
We round the corner, and all the trepidation I'd shed returns tenfold as I witness the massive, imposing doors to the auditorium. They loom above me, the golden door knobs curved in a taunting smirk, as though daring me to step foot beyond their threshold.
Zo places a hand on my shoulder. "There's nothing waiting for you beyond those doors, Rhi. No danger. No monsters." She snorts. "Except, well, us. "
I take in a deep breath and release it slowly the way Nick instructed me to do just about a year ago.
Which feels like a lifetime ago, and a different one at that.
"Can I open the doors?" Zo asks.
"No," I say sternly, surprising myself. "I want to do it."
A bitter cold bites through my palms as I shakily place my hands on the door handles.
I inhale another long breath.
One.
Two.
I release it on three and open the doors.
Blinding light pierces my vision. I blink several times to allow my eyes to adjust. The last time I'd been in here, the large space was shrouded in darkness and blood, the air permeated with death and betrayal. Seeing it now, the sun's rays washing it in various shades of gold, feels like a hoax, a forgery of a room where so much horror occurred.
"How are you doing?" Zo gently asks.
"I…" Words falter as I consider the hurricane of emotions raging through me. Some of my instincts scream for me to run, to put as much distance between myself and this room as possible. Yet, a more rational voice, one that steadily grows louder, convinces me to accept the fact that the danger is over, and I have nothing to fear.
I shake my head. "It just feels wrong." I let my gaze slide over the room once more. The spot where Kassi laid lifeless in a pool of her own blood glistens with pristine cleanliness, as though it was just polished.
"Doesn't it bother you?" I ask and face Zo.
She frowns. "Of course, it does."
"Then why am I the only one that's affected?" I released an exhausted sigh. "Why am I the only one that reacts like this?"
"Rhi," she starts, her voice both low and sad, "it's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone's demons manifest differently." She waves her hand about the room. "This place holds nothing but bad memories for all of us, but I know you lost more than a friend that day."
My eyes are heavy with the weight of tears. I lost Kassi and Nick that day.
I lost myself.
"But the point is," Zo continues, stepping toward me. "You fought, and you continue to fight. And I will continue to fight for you, too. We will continue to fight for you."
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, having read somewhere that it keeps you from crying. "Ok," I breathe, shaking my limbs out. "We're about a half an hour early for this class. What do we do now?"
Zo leads me to one of the many blue mats covering the floor. The set up is almost identical to the one at Fencing Club, with the exception that there are twice as many mats. Zo and I start stretching, prepping our muscles and tendons for whatever that sadist Cicero plans to throw our way.
I relax, easing into our stretching routine, tension leaving my back and shoulders as Zo and I fall into easy conversation and laughter. As the time approaches 3:00, students file in, either settling along the back wall or finding a place on one of the mats to stretch like Zo and I. My heart stutters when Zo's eyes widen in a look of sheer panic. I whip my head over my shoulder, my nerves calming when I spot her ex-boyfriend from last year, Andrew.
"He's still salty about your break-up, huh?"
Zo rolls her eyes. "You'd think he'd get over it by now. He's been fucking everything that moves, yet has to glare at me every time he sees me. What the fuck is he doing here, anyway?" she questions.
It's a good one, considering Andrew is a senior and doesn't have this class.
I laugh at something else she says before her entire body goes rigid. When I turn, my expectation is to find Andrew blatantly flirting or the like, to have Zo so on edge.
Instead, gold eyes clash with mine, his presence domineering, even though he's nowhere near me. Nick's gaze leaves mine in an instant, and he saunters over to Andrew. The two are quickly joined by three more students, two girls and another boy. I don't tear my eyes from the group, even when one of the girls, a stunning senior with hair like honey, strokes Nick's bare forearm. A blood-red fingernail rises higher and traces the dark whorls peeking below the white sleeve of his bicep. She stares up at him with bedroom eyes, and my keen eyesight reads her puckered lips as she asks about his tattoo .
One I still haven't seen.
I don't know where the rage comes from. It's as though there's a well buried deep within me, suppressed beneath a mountain of facades at playing human, pretending I don't love Nick, and feigning optimism amongst my family and friends when I'm drowning in my own thoughts. But somewhere along the way, a fissure formed, letting out slivers of heated fury. An underwater volcano just waiting to erupt and unleash a tsunami of wrath on its unsuspecting victims.
And I think I've found my catalyst.
The monster inside me preens, salivating, ready to tear her to pieces for touching what's mine.
That is, until Nick takes her finger with the tips of his own, like he's picking lint off his clothes, and flings it away with annoyance. He crosses his arms over his chest as though barring her or anyone else from touching him.
Good boy.
Miss Honey, or whoever she is, laughs shakily, her face flushing with embarrassment.
My lips curl of their own accord, the rage receding, but I know the fire hasn't left my eyes. Between my sinister smile and the way I shoot daggers at their group, I must look like a fucking psychopath.
Luckily, Cicero finally enters, calling everyone's attention. He's dressed head to toe in a black tracksuit, a jarring difference to his usual starched button-down shirts and pressed slacks.
"Welcome to your first Combat lesson. This class will teach you how to defend yourselves physically, but make no mistake -" his sardonic stare finds me - "you will also learn to wield your abilities concurrently." His attention slides to the rest of the class. "I'm sure you're wondering what some of the seniors are doing here." Cicero motions to the ten seniors against the wall, Nick dead center among them. Arms still crossed, he leans back, his face a portrait of smug superiority.
"These ten individuals are highly lethal in combat, and will be your training partners."
I press my lips together to refrain from gasping.
"Obviously, there are fifteen of you, so some of you will work in pairs with one trainer," Cicero continues.
I finally glance back at Zo, whose wide-eyed stare travels from Cicero to me. Hopefully, the two of us can train together, and gods willing, Nick will not be our fucking trainer.
Maybe we'll get Miss Honey, and I can show her exactly how I feel about the way she was touching Nick. I blink and shake my head. What the fuck is going on with me? But before I can mull further on my sudden slip into homicide, Cicero starts pairing us off.
"Zo and Safira," he ticks off the names on a clipboard in his hands. Zo takes a deep breath and stands, wiping her palms on her legs. The senior, Safira, who moves to another mat and beckons Zo over, is none other than the honey-blonde girl whose demise I'd just been contemplating.
Her body is beautiful and lithe, covered in a fresh, sun-kissed tan as though she stepped into class straight from the beach. Her tight yoga pants hug her form and the skimpy bright red sports bra doesn't seem to be doing its job in containing her breasts, which bounce uncontrollably as she walks.
I sigh, noting my oversized Sailor Moon tee-shirt. Unfortunately, crippling panic attacks and post-traumatic stress leave little room for giving a shit about one's appearance. A fact, right now, I'm utterly regretting.
Once again lost in my own head, I almost miss Cicero's next pairing.
"Owens and Cervallos," Cicero calls.
My blood ices in my veins. Fuck. Zo shoots me a worried glance before joining Safira a few feet ahead of where we stand. I approach Cicero just as he finishes calling off the last pair of students.
"Is there a problem, Owens?" His eyes remain fixed upon the notepad in his hand, so I find it curious he knows it's me standing before him.
I swallow roughly. "I'd like to be paired with someone else."
Cicero's dark eyes dart upward and land directly on me. "You were paired with Cervallos because he is the best suitable match for your abilities. He can challenge you. No other student can keep up. Do you want to train that third unruly head or not?"
An inaudible hiss sounds in my head. It didn't like being called "unruly" despite the accuracy of Cicero's statement.
"It's not that Professor…" My cheeks heat. "It's…"
"Give her to someone else, if that's what she wants."
Give her to someone else. My throat burns, and my head aches with the familiar pressure of holding back tears. I hadn't realized he moved close enough to hear my exchange with Cicero. The Professor arches his impossibly bushy eyebrows and glances behind me.
"Ah. I see what's going on here." I'm ready to breathe a sigh of relief until he continues, "Unfortunately, I don't give a shit about your lover's quarrel. Owens, you're with Cervallos." He meets my gaze, his eyes holding an emotion I've never before seen when he looks at me: worry.
"Use it," he suggests when I don't move, lowering his voice. "Whatever you're feeling, channel it here." He taps his hand over the left side of his chest. "Nicholas is ruthless when it comes to fighting. He wouldn't have gone easy on you, even if the two of you were still a couple." He darts a swift glance above my head, no doubt at Nick. "Even less so now that you clearly aren't. But you need it, Rhi. So turn around, lift your chin, and kick his ass."
I'm shocked at Cicero's sudden departure from his usual scowl and sarcasm regarding me. But nonetheless, my lips curve. I square my shoulders and turn.
I expect Nick to be closer, given he'd heard my plea for a change of partner, but he still stands mere feet from the wall, the tips of his black sneakers toeing the edge of the mat. My mouth parts in realization: his hearing is sharpened, which means he's channeling the monster. I swallow the fear that slithers up my throat. The Scylla hisses as I draw closer to him.
Nick grins as I step on to the mat, a devious parting of his lips. "Not happy to see me, are they?" He joins me on the soft surface, standing only inches away. "Though I suppose I could say the same about you." Nick's golden eyes flick to mine before falling to my lips, desire heating his gaze and disappearing just as swiftly when he notes the absence of the necklace.
"Still no necklace, I see." He crowds closer. "Was my hand around your throat not enough for you to get the message?"
My heart hammers in my chest. Being this close to him has always sent my nerves firing chaotically, but my emotions are equally tumultuous. I hate the venom in his tone, which masks the hurt and desperation I hear underneath. I hate that anger consumes me with his actions, yet guilt rides alongside it, knowing that I'm responsible. Finally, fear crests the emotional tidal wave at the thought that every time I'm near him might be the last time.
Use it, my brain conjures Cicero's demand.
"Are you going to talk me to death or actually teach me something?" I fire at him.
The briefest flash of black engulfs those golden eyes before they are once again gilded and narrowed. "Feet slightly wider than shoulder width apart. Weight distributed equally between both feet."
I do as he says and feign boredom. "Now what?"
Between one blink and the next, Nick is behind me, his right arm wrapped around my chest and shoulders. His left arm twists my own behind my back, an ache building in my bones from the tight grip of his fingers on my wrist.
"Cheater." The Scylla thrashes, begging to be released. I struggle against his grip as he presses me to his chest. I hiss when a splintering pain shoots down my left arm.
Nick's lips are at the base of my ear, his breath warm as he exhales. "All's fair in love and war, Rhi." He releases his hold on my body and shoves me away.
I grit my teeth as I stumble forward, anger building like a pressure cooker. I cradle my left arm with my right and face him. "Then I'm sure you won't mind the claws." I hold my hands in front of me, my fingernails replaced with the dark, curved talons. The pain in my left arm is already gone, and I silently thank my rapid healing.
"Hardly." He smirks at my hiss, stalking toward me.
I swipe when he comes too close but miss, only to find him behind me again.
"Though I prefer them raking down my back while I'm inside you," Nick whispers in my ear, and I stiffen. "But I suppose that's Jesse's job now." Another hard shove and this time, I land on the floor.
"You're so easy to catch off guard." I can't see him, but the mockery in his voice is nearly palpable. "So easily riled." Nick lets out a throaty chuckle. "By the way, how is Jesse ?" His voice drips with such venom I'm surprised my ears don't bleed.
I can't believe he's fucking taunting me. I want to poke at him, scream at him, call him out on his bullshit, but I realize this is much like my altercation with Bianca last year. Only this time, Nick is punishing me for what I won't say out loud.
That I still love him.
It's for that reason alone I allow this to continue. Nick grabs my arm and flips me on my back. Feet on either side of my hips, he crouches down and drops his hands between his legs, wholly unbothered.
"Cervallos," Cicero warns.
"She's holding back, Professor," he calls out. Nick cocks his head, black encroaching on the gold in his eyes. "Why are you holding back, Rhi? Where are those ghastly beasts your ancestor is known for?"
Fangs replace my teeth just as the flavor of almonds flood my mouth. The Scylla is out for blood, snapping its jaws and writhing with a primal need to tear him to shreds. If he continues to goad and insult me, I may not be able to hold on to the barely constrained control I have.
Then again, that might be his motive .
I swipe for his face again, and Nick knocks my arm away effortlessly. "Sloppy." He tsks. "Get up."
Nick stands and turns, exposing his back, completely unfazed that I might take a shot at him. That disregard makes my blood boil.
I release just one of the Scyllas. Nick turns and dodges it - but just barely. By the time he faces me, I'm standing just as he instructed, claws out and teeth bared. My tongue darts out and catches a small dribble of saliva that escapes the corner of my mouth.
Nick smiles, and this time, it's not devious or mocking. It's the one I love. "There she is."
He charges.
Left, a voice hisses. I dart left and narrowly miss colliding with him.
He charges again and is swiftly behind me.
Duck.
His arm wraps around as it did earlier, and catches nothing but air. I'm crouched at his feet and whirl as fast I can, lashing out with one of my whips. It catches him off guard, and Nick lands on his back. I rise to my feet to the sound of clapping.
"Nice, Owens," Cicero says with a hint of a smile.
My victory is short-lived. Nick is up and in front of me. He grabs my arm and flips me over his shoulder. All the air escapes my lungs as my back slams hard into the mat. Through spotty vision, I glimpse Nick meandering over to me as though he hasn't a care in the world. Though I struggle to breathe, I use the opportunity to strike with two whips. One wraps around the bottom half of his legs and the other strikes him hard in the chest. A pained grunt escapes him as he lands beside me.
Nick recovers swiftly and straddles me. He grabs both of my wrists in a punishing grip and pins them above my head. When he finally brings his gaze to mine, I stifle a gasp.
His eyes are wholly black.
Nick smiles - if I can even call it that. "I'm not going to hurt you," he croons in a voice that isn't entirely his own.
"Liar." I can practically taste it. His malicious grin only widens, yet something else trumps my fear.
Nick always exhibited a carefully controlled restraint against the monster that lives beneath his skin. He let it out once, during an extenuating circumstance when we were fighting the Indus worm, and even then, he was terrified of not being able to control it. So why would he carelessly let it out now ?
I take a moment to study him. Perhaps he isn't wholly the monster. After all, the memory I have of the beast includes flesh tearing claws that sweep the floor and a mouth with six rows of razor-sharp teeth. No fangs were present when Nick just spoke, so maybe he has more control than I give him credit for.
Except…that voice was certainly not Nick's.
He makes no sudden movements, just continues to stare at me with lethal calm and that terrifying smirk.
"You want to hurt me, Nick?"
The smile flickers but doesn't falter. Was it because I said his name? Or because I acknowledged his desire?
He leans down, tightening his grip on my wrists. His mouth hovers a breath from my own. "If it means you'll scream my name, then yes."
It's at that moment I knock him off me, using the force of two whips. I regain my footing as fast as my body will allow, ignoring the stabbing ache lancing through my wrists. As I suspected, Nick is already on his feet, eyes a depthless black and murderous.
"You're so easy to catch off guard, Nick," I taunt. "A little damsel in distress is all it takes for you to unravel?"
"I'd hardly call you a damsel in distress." He circles me like a vulture. "After all, I know just how well you liked to be ruined ."
I whip toward him, claws raised to strike, but Nick vanishes, chuckling darkly.
"What the fuck, Cervallos?" Cicero yells .
I whirl frantically, searching for him. Startled gasps sound about the room as the other students exchange worried glances. Zo catches my eye, her mouth parted in shock and eyes wide with fear.
My own fear fully surfaces, clenching my heart in icy fingers. Nick has just fucking disappeared.
He reappears just as suddenly, forcing me back as he invades my personal space. He makes no move to attack, just keeps stepping into me until my back hits the wall.
His smile is a thing of nightmares.
"Stop, Nick." I push against his unmovable chest. "Just fucking stop."
"Nicholas, enough ," Cicero barks, moving towards us.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" His voice is low, menacing. His mouth combs my jaw before his breath tickles my ear. "You said you wanted me unhinged . Well, here I am, Rhi. Your own monstrous creation. Your dark god. You asked me to ruin you once, but I promise you, that was nothing compared to what I'll do to you if you continue to defy me." He bites down suddenly, sharp teeth tearing through the tender flesh of my throat, and I scream.
The sound of my own shrill voice, pitched high with terror, finally shatters that fissure, and the pressure that had been building explodes, the restraint I'd attempted to curate dissolving.
Nick lifts his head indolently, mockingly licking my blood from his lips.
I make sure I'm staring directly into those cold black eyes when I speak. "You'll never have the opportunity to ruin me again." My voice is unfeeling and unwavering. Pure vitriol pours from my mouth as my anger crests and spills and the desire to hurt him is overwhelming. "That honor is now Jesse's."
Nick rears back as though I slapped him.
My emotions are still erratic, and I have been pushed far past my limit. My brain briefly registers the look of pure anguish on his face as his eyes bleed gold before something savage takes over and anything concerning him no longer matters.
I strike with one of the heads. And then another. And another. Nick's body jerks like it's being hit with bullets before I finally let one of my whips wrap around his neck and squeeze.
Make him suffer. The voice in my head is mine, but not. It's that tender poison again, spoken softly yet somehow viciously at the same time.
Nick falls to his knees as I continue to tighten the invisible noose around his neck. I stalk toward him, vaguely aware of my name being yelled in panic, but another thought registers: he's not fighting back.
Why?
Before I entertain that question, Nick raises his chin so his bright, golden eyes sear mine. He manages to chuckle between strangled breaths. "So, the prophecy is true. You are my undoing. My deliverance."
I inhale my own stuttering gasps as the reality of what I'm doing slams into me like a wrecking ball, and his words pin me in place.
"Do it, Rhi." He struggles to get out every syllable. "I've already sacrificed everything for you. My life means nothing."
It means everything to me , I want to say, but my tongue is heavy with the weight of Nick's admission.
Somehow, he manages to crack a smile, his trademark, lupine grin I always look for to ease my troubles and brighten my day. "Do what you were meant to do, Rhi. End it."
The raging beast within me recedes. I cage the Scylla, tears streaming down my face as Nick falls to his hands, gasping for air. Safira runs to him, and her sudden movement draws my attention to the rest of the class.
Cicero is gone, probably off to fetch Talbot and Wilde. Everyone else, with the exception of Zo, gapes at the space Nick and I occupy, their focus entirely on me. The expression on their faces is one I know all too well, and one I've been trying to avoid: fear.
Of me.
My gaze slides to Safira, crouching next to Nick, who continues to cough and sputter. A crude, red welt brands his neck like a collar.
I did that.
I catch Zo running towards me just as I take off, sprinting out of the auditorium, out of Southgate, and away from the gut-wrenching realization that I almost killed the man I love.