Academy of Protectors (The Protector Guild Book 1) Page 17

  Chapter Sixteen

  Max

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning.” Wade twirled his pencil around each of his fingers while he studied me intently. “That way I can get a feel for how much you know and where we should begin.” The sentence rang with a slight inflection, like he was asking a question, unsure of the right way to start.

  “Do you tutor people often?” I asked, trying desperately to avoid looking at his face for too long. Being in an empty classroom with no one but him was intimidating as hell. I didn’t need to be reminded of exactly how beautiful he was or the fact that the last time we were together, he’d tried to drunkenly kiss me. My stomach was filled with enough nerves as it was. Nervous energy just seemed to be constantly oozing out of me like a bad odor these days.

  “That obvious?” He grinned, scratching the top of his head. “You’re my first student, officially anyway. I’ve got a knack for books and stuff, so I helped a lot of my friends while I was taking classes.”

  “You’re doing great!” I rushed out, wanting to comfort his own anxiety. It was an empty compliment, we hadn’t even started really. But if I couldn’t calm my nerves, maybe I could soothe his. “The beginning is probably a perfect place to start.” I closed my eyes desperately trying to forget about how warm his lips had felt against my cheek. “Cy has always been really tight-lipped about this world. So we were never given much more than the bare bones, although I learned a few things from Ro since he lived with his parents for a few years.”

  “Sometimes I forget that you and Rowan aren’t actually related.” Wade dipped his brow low and sunk back against his chair. “What happened to his original guardians?”

  “Raid,” I said, not elaborating. It wasn’t something that Ro spoke about often—his life before I entered it. I wasn’t even really sure how much he remembered about that life. And I wasn’t comfortable spreading what little information he’d shared with me in the first place. His secrets were stored inside of me, guarded in a vault. It had been that way since the day he came out to me, his breath held tight like he was terrified I’d be disappointed. It would be that way until I died.

  Wanting to keep the conversation away from things that weren’t really my business, I thought back to Wade’s question. “I know that protectors evolved from angels, and that they were left on earth to kill off demons and creatures from the hell realm. That vampires and werewolves are the most common creatures identified in our own world, and the ones we will spend most of our time hunting.”

  And judging by my recent personal experience, it seemed that was pretty accurate.

  Wade stared at me for a moment, like he expected me to continue on. “Er, that’s all the information he’s given you?”

  I shrugged, trying to ignore the sting of Cyrus’s secrecy. “I mean I know how to kill wolves and vampires, in terms of stabbing in the heart or decapitating, and that humans can’t be turned. But no, not much more.”

  He exhaled, shoving away the stack of books he’d brought with him. “Okay, then we should definitely start at the beginning, beginning then.” His blue eyes flashed in my direction, a grin dancing in their depths. “But don’t worry, I’ll get you caught up.”

  Excited by the prospect of finally learning about the world I’d been sheltered from for so long, I sat up straighter, attentive. For the moment, I’d shove away thoughts about Cy and why he had sheltered us in the first place. If he wanted us to survive in this world, he had to know that knowledge was our best shot, right?

  “Protectors evolved from angels, that much is true,” Wade started, tracing a timeline onto a fresh sheet of paper. His writing was neat, precise. “But maybe devolved is the better phrasing to use. The kind of magic that we have, it’s not infinite. Throughout the years, angels have expended most of their energy protecting humans from demons—so much so that each hundred years or so, our magic seems to grow weaker and our numbers grow smaller.”

  I thought back to my classes, the bond ceremonies, and the general sausage fest on campus. “Is that connected to why there are so few female protectors left? And why there are bonds?”

  Wade moved his head from side-to-side, somewhere between a yes and a no. “Kind of. Generally, it’s agreed that the reason we have so few women is connected. And the number of successful protector pregnancies gets lower each generation as well. Contemporary mating bonds in our society are connected more to necessity for those reasons. But bondmates were a thing from the very beginning—they just used to happen organically and for the sake of genuine affection and community. It was how families were built. Teams and bonds were the foundation of our culture. Now, it’s how we survive.”

  I narrowed my eyes, not wanting to seem too cynical. “How do you know for sure? I mean marrying for love is a fairly new concept for humans; it seems suspect that angels were so ahead of that curve centuries ago.”

  He bit his bottom lip, the white of his teeth standing out against his smooth skin. “That’s a good point. To be honest, who knows. History books are written by the victors and social norms. It’s entirely possible that we don’t concretely know much about where we come from. Our mythology in many ways, is no more confirmed than any human spiritual belief.” With a clear of his throat, he focused back on track. “Anyway, for centuries, bonds have been created as a way to keep protectors alive. Kind of like built-in protection. And a different sort of family.”

  For a moment, he withdrew slightly, like a sadness was creeping over him that he couldn’t quite keep at bay. The thought of being magically bound to someone else still freaked me the fuck out, but the way that Eli, and now Wade phrased it, I could almost see the appeal. Family. Community. Those were things I craved something fierce. I wouldn’t give up Cy or Ro for anything, but the thought of having more people that mattered to me—that I mattered to. Well, it wasn’t the worst thing.

  I thought back to Wade’s first point, trying to avoid the doom that seemed to come with it. If we were slowly losing our abilities and our strengths…and if our numbers were diminishing, how much longer did humans stand a chance? I still didn’t agree with the lab downstairs and how things were being run there in terms of Ralph, but I was starting to understand how so many protectors justified it. The urgency was real, tangible. Fear made people act in ways they weren’t always proud of. “This slow decay of the protector line—”

  “Depressing way of phrasing it, but not incorrect.”

  “Does it have to do with the increase in supernatural activity that I keep hearing about?” And experiencing first hand, but I didn’t see the need to bring that up again.

  “Yep,” Wade said, his entire face lighting up like a damn Christmas tree.

  I tried not to stare, but when Wade smiled it was like the whole world spun around me. Still… “Kind of a weird thing to be happy about.”

  He chuckled and shook head. “No, you misunderstand. I’m not happy about that. I’m impressed. You’ve been paying attention. And you’re making important connections even though this is all so new to you.”

  I tried to disguise how pleased I was at his words. While I didn't always know how to navigate social situations, I loved learning—and being valued for that made me embarrassingly gooey inside. “Thanks, you’re a good tutor. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still feel like I’m three laps behind where I need to be, and about a hundred laps behind everyone else...but this kind of context is really helpful for understanding how this world works. I think these sessions will help me feel more at home here.”

  Part of me didn’t want to get too attached to this place, to this whole world. It was all still so new, and chaotic. I was terrified that I would hate living here with so many people, in a world that turned mine completely upside down. But at the same time, I didn’t want to get too comfortable. I couldn’t quite explain it, but part of me was terrified that I would find a new version of home here, only for it to be ripped away before my eyes.

  I thought back to the vamp outside of Vanish. “It’s rare, right? Vamps coming so close to the grounds here?” I waited for his nod before continuing. “Do we—” I paused, feeling weird about including myself. “I mean, does anyone know why the supernatural activity has been increasing so much?”

  “If they do, they’re not sharing the knowledge publicly,” Wade said, his voice laced with a frustration that was completely at odds with his excitement from a few moments ago. I wondered, briefly, how much infighting there was amongst all of the protectors. “But they’re trying to rush teams through, get as many students graduated as possible to help push things back. This past year especially has been like trying to stop a waterfall with nothing but your hands.”

  “When do people usually graduate? Join teams?” And, though I didn’t say it, how could I make sure that I was with Ro?

  “Historically, at twenty or twenty-one. But there’s talk that it’s shifting. Tensions are high.” He hunched slightly, his crystal eyes piercing mine. “And you didn’t hear it from me, but I think soon enough they’re going to push people through at nineteen. Maybe even earlier.”

  I was almost nineteen, and Ro already was. The thought of him going on missions, fighting against an unstoppable deluge of supernaturals without me turned my stomach to a block of ice. I came out alive after my last two encounters with the hell realm, but both experiences made it overwhelmingly clear how very fragile protectors were in this fight.

  “Each generation, they move the timeline back just a touch. Nineteen used to be more important as an age bracket, it’s when protectors fully came into their powers and the extra years learning to harness them were really valuable. Now that those powers are diminished, it’s more of a symbolic nod to history than anything. Nineteen brings little more than slightly heightened senses. From birth, we’re stronger and faster than humans. That boosts a bit more as we transition into maturity. But our power never rivals the creatures from hell. Not one-on-one.”

  I thought back to Ro’s birthday, the way that Cy spent the evening studying him and watching us as we sparred throughout the day. It made sense why he splurged and got Ro a new set of daggers. That birthday was its own graduation of sorts, a commemoration into adulthood, the way that eighteen was for humans. I looked forward to my own. The more power that I had, the more strength—the better chance I had of protecting the people I cared about.

  “Do we,” I started, my skin buzzing with anxiety and an unwelcome layer of guilt. “Do we have any say about which team we join when we graduate?” It seemed like an uncommonly big ask—to trust a group of people so completely.

  Wade’s fingers twitched, inching over slightly across the table so that our pinkies were a mere breath away from each other. There was something so oddly intimate about the gesture that I found myself unable to pull away. Our eyes met and he smiled, small lines crinkling the sides of his mouth.

  “The Guild leaders in charge of making determinations take chemistry into consideration when placing students,” he said, his face leaning towards mine ever so slowly.

  Our pinkies met and it was like an explosion took off underneath my skin at the point we touched. The draw I felt when around Wade was intoxicating. It was too much, too confusing. It was like there was a string or magnet slowly pulling us together, and each time we got close, the magnet strengthened.

  I inhaled sharply, pulling away. To be honest, I was surprised I had the power to do it, to not just surrender to the pull. My heartbeat hammered embarrassingly against my ribcage.

  His lips turned down slightly but he didn’t say anything, clearing his throat as he turned a page in one of his books instead. The moment was broken, and silence filled the room like a heavy, unwelcome coat. At a sharp knock, my head whipped towards the door, the momentum creating a small crack in my joints.

  “Atlas,” I said, the sight of him standing there, watching us intently, had my chest clenching uncomfortably. For some reason, I had the undeniable feeling that I’d done something wrong—even though I hadn’t done anything at all.

  He crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, a tightness in his expression as he stared at his brother.

  Wade cleared his throat, pushing back from the table, creating several inches of space between us. The air in the room suddenly seemed filled with a frost.

  “Declan mentioned that you two were studying in here,” he said, taking a few brisk steps into the room. His eyes stayed on his brother, barely paying me any mind. While I empathized with the stare he leveled at Wade, it was nice, for once, not to be the recipient of it.

  “What’s up?” There was a coolness to Wade’s tone as he tapped his pen against the table.

  Clack, clack, clack.

  The sound matched my pounding heart, beat for beat.

  “We’re leaving in the morning,” Atlas said, finally glancing in my direction, even if briefly. “Jer and Arnell will be prepped on my expectations for your training, Bentley.”

  “Not you and the rest of Six?” I asked, trying to stifle the weird feeling overcoming me. Was that disappointment? Was I becoming a masochist? I should be pleased that I’d get a break from Atlas’s relentless scrutiny during my sparring sessions.

  “Don’t get too down, beautiful,” Eli piped up as he crowded into the room. He was so silent in his entrance, that I didn’t even notice he was trailing behind Atlas until he spoke. “I know no one can compare to us, but you’ll be in good hands. We have a mission to prepare for tomorrow.”

  My head swung around to him, taking in his dark expression that was more serious than usual, underneath the playful tone he liked to lace around everything he said. The more I got to know him, the more it seemed like a defense mechanism, a way to distract people from looking too closely.

  “What kind of mission?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

  “Not your concern,” Atlas said, his words closed off and cold—any progress I’d made with him over our last session seemed to instantly dissolve. Great, was this how it was always going to be with him?

  “Did you push for this?” Wade ground out, his eyes narrowed like a cat at his brother. “Are you certain this is the best time?”

  The two brothers were locked in a wordless battle, Wade’s crystal depths against Atlas’s brown chasms.

  I turned back towards Eli, figuring I could get more out of him than I would out of either

  of them. “Can Ro and I go? ”

  Eli pushed himself off the wall, squaring off with me. “Absolutely not. You’re a student. You stay in bounds at all times unless given express permission otherwise.”

  “But we could help,” I said, “isn’t that the whole point of training us? We’re good fighters. And I survived one attack solo.” Eli arched an amused brow but I ignored him. I mean, yeah, I survived because of Ralph, but still, I held my own for a bit. “If we’re part of a team, what happened outside of Vanish won’t happen again. I was taken by surprise and didn’t have backup.”

  For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to voice the concern that one of them would be hurt. Partially because the fear surrounded me in such a heavy, unexpected flare up. When did Six sink underneath my skin? I didn’t know them very well at all—in fact I avoided Atlas whenever possible. But still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that came over me, the absolute certainty that they were going to be confronting an acute danger. One that I could help stave off if I was given the opportunity.

  “No,” Atlas said. He took a step towards me, his eyes boring into mine. It took everything I had not to step back and wilt under his glare. Something about looking into his eyes made me feel like I was inches away from diving off a cliff. “You are not now, nor will you ever be a member of our team, Bentley. The sooner you understand that, the better things will go for you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eli

  Three hours into the plane ride and I was in desperate need of a xanax. Flights were my least favorite part of being a protector. Seriously, metal contraptions that weighed several tons had no business flying through the atmosphere. Humans were an odd bunch, but nothing screamed magic as much as when they found a way to defy physics.

  But, Atlas’s intel swore that our pack of wolves was in the middle of the Midwest, and rather than leave it to one of our satellite groups on the east coast, we were instead on our way to clean up our own mess. He was sitting across from me, pretending to study the books of obsessive notes he’d been taking about recent North American wolf patterns. But his eyes weren’t moving, and he hadn’t turned the page in half an hour, so I was pretty sure he was as distracted as I was.

  A loud pop made us all jump and I looked down at my hand. I’d been clenching my fist so hard that I’d busted the bottle of water I was drinking from.

  “You okay, man?” Wade asked, the sound of his voice groggy with disuse. We usually spent long drives and flights going over whatever strategy Atlas had come up with for the specific mission, or at the very least listening to me tell stories about my most recent girl troubles. No one really cared about my sexcapades of course, but distracting me with boobs was the best way to keep my flight anxiety down.

  Today was different and I had a feeling that the thing rubbing me the wrong way was having a similar effect on the guys.

  Max Bentley.

  Generally, I didn’t pay much attention to the students at the academy, at least not beyond training and assisting with various fighting demos. There was the occasional girl I’d have my eye on, but those infatuations never lasted more than a few days.

  But something about Max just dug into my attention span unlike anyone or anything else before. It was like as soon as she arrived at The Guild, everything had been skewed off center. There was a weird draw to her and I was half convinced she was secretly a succubus or something. If she weren’t so socially awkward, I’d be fully convinced.