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Academy of Protectors (The Protector Guild Book 1) Page 8


  Izzy laughed louder, before calming enough to answer me. “It’s just, usually when people ask how you are, they don’t really want to know and they don’t expect an answer other than ‘good’ or ‘fine.’ You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t have a huge social life back home were you?” My cheeks reddened before she continued. “Don’t be embarrassed. I find your particular version of word vomit endearing. You’re honest. It’s refreshing.” She leaned towards me, whispering quietly so the woman couldn’t hear, “and truthfully, I think it’s kind of strange that people ask questions they don’t really want the answer to. Disingenuous.”

  “Oh,” I said, still kind of embarrassed, but happy to have her in my corner.

  Izzy laughed, turned to the woman, and announced loudly, “I, too, have my period at the moment. In case you were wondering.”

  The woman smiled tightly, took our credit cards, and bagged our outfits without another word. Laughing, we collected our bags and wound our way back through racks of clothes until we caught up with Eli and the girl clearly under his spell.

  He looked up at our approach, a surprisingly warm smile on his face, like he was actually excited to see us back. “Ah, sorry Eilene, it looks like my friends here are through.” He handed her a small piece of paper and winked. “Give me a call later, if you want. I’d love to show you a good time.” His tone dipped low and seductive, making it abundantly clear what kind of time he’d show her.

  I wasn’t sure whose face was more red—mine or Eilene’s.

  Two hours later, I emerged from Izzy’s bedroom, dressed in the burgundy dress, with a thigh holster and a pair of black heels that required far more focus to walk in than I needed when running through the forest at night. Her room was slightly smaller than mine, but it was filled with so many personal touches and such interesting decor that I practically wanted to move in myself.

  “You look perfect, Max.” Izzy was putting the finishing touches on her makeup, while I stared in awe at her sure strokes and precision. She looked at me out of the corner of her eye and smiled. “Do you want me to do yours too?”

  “Yes, I mean, if you wouldn’t mind, that’d be really great.” I didn’t add that if I were left to do my own makeup, I’d likely walk out of here looking like Pennywise.

  She nodded, patted the seat next to hers, and proceeded to paint my face, sure to explain each step. I took mental notes, as if I were in a classroom, so that I could reproduce the results next time we went out. Cyrus was good at many things. Teaching me about fashion and makeup? Not one of them. And while I liked to think of myself as more of a Lara Croft than a Holly Golightly, it was nice to be able to embrace that side of myself every once in a while.

  After a few minutes, Izzy pulled back, a huge grin on her face. “There. You look perfect, Max. Let’s go find Ro and head out before Cyrus goes parental, catches a glimpse of how hot you look, and tries to keep you locked up here forever.”

  I blinked back at her, confused.

  “It’s a dad thing.” I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off before I could say anything. “Yes, I know he’s not your dad in the traditional sense, but trust me when I say he’d go parental if he saw you trying to leave right now. Eighteen years old or not, biological father or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s just how dads are. And whether he acts like a conventional father or not, Cyrus is probably more protective than the best of them.”

  I smiled back, pleased. Cyrus was kind of like my dad, in a weird Yoda-esque way. At least the closest thing I’d ever have anyway. Still, it warmed me to think of him ‘going all parental,’ whatever that meant.

  That warmness dissipated almost immediately when the bathroom door connecting to another room burst open.

  “You guys are going to Theo’s party too then.” Reza walked in before pulling weird pouty faces in the mirror, as she studied her dress. Her sequined dress was more like a gown, shimmering with a brilliant shade of emerald that reminded me of Declan’s eyes. As she glanced discreetly at me, I noticed her blue eyes popped even more than usual, with dark rings of black and grey outlining them.

  “Well, he is my brother,” Izzy said, catching my eye in the mirror.

  “Reza’s your roommate?” I looked over at Izzy’s sad acknowledgement, her mouth tightening a bit, before offering a small, commiserative smile. I’d never been happier to be rooming with Ro. I so needed to thank Seamus and Cyrus next time I saw them.

  “It’s really charitable of you, Izzy, to befriend the new girl. Now you’ll both have a friend.” Reza swiped on a dark shade of lipstick with a kind of precision that filled me with envy.

  “Thanks, Regina. Are you planning on being this big of a jerk to my brother tonight, too? It is his birthday, and while he can be a total dolt sometimes, it would be nice if you actually treated him like a person for once.” Izzy shoved her makeup back into the cabinet, not even sparing Reza a glance.

  I swallowed my laughter, but couldn’t keep the amusement from flashing in my eyes.

  “I know that I’m powerful, but did I hit your head during training today? It’s Reza. And no, I wasn’t planning on being anything to your brother tonight. Atlas will be there, so I’ll be occupied.”

  My stomach lurched at the idea of Reza’s paws on Atlas. I paused, analyzing the unusual and unwelcome burning sensation that seemed to gather behind my ribs. I took a deep breath, dissipating it.

  On second thought, they’d be perfect together. Neither of them seemed particularly kind. Their children would probably pop out wearing matching family glares.

  Chapter Eight

  Max

  Izzy, Ro, and I pulled up to a small club in a town less than a fifteen-minute drive from The Guild. Though the area wasn’t highly populated, the club looked like something you’d find in a more metropolitan city. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in the excitement. One day in and I had already made an awesome new friend and was going out for my first evening…well, out. It was wild to think that two days ago, I was bundled up in a blanket at the cabin, watching Fresh Prince reruns.

  Eyeing me, Izzy smiled. “It’s pretty impressive right? Considering we’re practically in the middle of nowhere, I mean. This whole block is actually owned by protectors, which means we can get in even though we aren’t twenty-one. As far as protectors are concerned, if we’re old enough to put our lives on the line saving humans, we’re old enough to enjoy a drink or two—which is allowed here and on campus, as long as we don’t go wild with the privilege.” She swept her arms in front of her in an exaggerated gesture, like she was a tour guide. “They built the mall, restaurants, and the club here so that Guild members could have somewhere fun to go without driving to an actual city. I think it’s partially to incentivize us to stick around and not go off searching for adventure once we graduate.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, considering. “Plus I imagine that they prefer us not to spend time around too many humans. The chances of secrets getting out increase when there are more forbidden ears around to hear them.”

  Ro smiled when we walked through the front doors. “This is great. We didn’t have anything like this back home.” His voice wavered with excitement, and I smiled at the sound of it. Having him here with me just made the whole experience even better.

  The club was huge, much larger than it looked from outside. Like The Guild, it seemed to be a unique mixture of old and new—the bar and walls looked like they were made out of refurbished wood, and industrial pipes and metals lined the ceiling and walls. And it was packed. If I had to guess, almost everyone from The Guild in our age bracket was here, as well as a healthy mix of what I was guessing were local humans. The stench of alcohol was mixed with artificial fruits and sweat, which should have been disgusting, but it kind of added to the atmosphere in an interesting way.

  I’d seen Cyrus drink before, but I’d never been inside of a bar or around so many intoxicated people. A few girls were cackling in the corner, their peals of laughter forcing happy tears from their eyes. People swayed close to each other, bodies looping together in seductive movements. While I’d seen clubs and bars on television, I didn’t expect them to be accurate portrayals. But they were. Even down to the couple fighting across the room and a lone guy slamming back shots by himself at the bar.

  “Here, there’s some people I want you guys to meet that actually don’t suck.” Izzy’s hand grabbed mine, interrupting my perusal, and I latched onto Ro as she dragged us towards the bar so that we formed an awkward conga line. We stopped in front of a small group that was amiably talking and drinking what looked like beer. “Max, Ro, this is Jer, Mavis, and Sharla,” she pointed to each in turn, “and I think you’ve both already met Arnell?”

  I reached my arm forward, taking each person’s hand in my own. I tried not to laugh at the way Ro maneuvered his body so that he was standing next to Arnell. Nor did I miss the way that Mavis studied Ro, with a calculated amusement. Maybe even a bit of a challenge.

  “Izzy tells me you kicked Theo’s ass today in training, is that true?” Sharla was tall, with curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, and deep, flawless skin. Like most protectors, she was lean with muscle, but there was a softness about her that made her seem more approachable than some of the other girls I’d seen around the campus. When I nodded in response she patted me on my back, a giant approving grin on her features. “Attagirl. He could use someone to take him down a peg. If I’m being honest, that’s the best birthday present anyone could ever give him.”

  “I didn’t see any of you in training today, are you guys still in school?” I asked. They looked about my age, maybe a couple of years older.

  The one called Jer shook his head. He had dark red hair, so dark it was almost black, and warm honey-colored eyes. “No, the four of us make up a team. We’re hoping that when Izzy graduates, she can join us.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping down a few octaves as his eyes met mine. “And maybe you too?”

  I cleared my throat, uncomfortable. “Er, how many people are usually on Guild teams?”

  Frowning, Arnell walked over, draping his hand across my shoulder. “Usually anywhere between four and seven. It depends on the team’s weaknesses and needs. They usually try to pair people with complementary skills and personality sets, while also making sure the individuals bond well together. Truthfully, I think that’s the hardest formula to gauge, but usually the most important. Trust is key in our line of work. When it comes down to it, your team will either save you or get you killed.”

  Izzy looked over at me and winked. “You know, kind of like the Justice League, or the Avengers.”

  “Oh god, now there’s two of them.” Ro shook his head while Arnell ordered us a few waters from the bar.

  I exhaled in relief. I knew that we were allowed to drink alcohol here, but my social skills were awful when I was operating at one hundred percent—who knew what I’d be like while intoxicated. I stole a sip of Cy’s whiskey once while he was sleeping and I was definitely not a fan.

  Mavis wandered up to a shorter guy around the bar and the two started dancing, moving closer and closer as they swayed to the beat.

  “Do you maybe want to dance with me, Max?” Jer’s voice was deep and soft, and the look in his eyes was friendly enough, if not a bit intense. He was unlike most boys I knew. Then again, I could count the boys I knew on one hand. Where Michael was gentle and shy, Jer was all sharp edges and mystery.

  But Michael didn’t work out so, maybe it made sense to give Jer a chance. “Sur—”

  “Sorry, Jer. I’ve got first dance. And possibly the second and third, if I’m lucky.” I turned around, startled, only to find my face pressed into a warm, hard chest. I looked up and found a familiar pair of clear blue eyes staring hard at Jer. As they moved down to catch my stare, they instantly warmed. “She owes me for kicking my ass today.”

  “Wade.” I exhaled softly, trying to dispel the nerves that had suddenly taken up residence in my stomach. I really needed to ask Seamus what they put in the food.

  Wade was dressed in a dark blue button up that brought out the color of his eyes and I suddenly found myself hyper aware of his proximity to me. Which was close. Like, very very close. “So, what do you say, Max? Care to dance?” The corner of his mouth lifted up in a soft smirk while I stared back awkwardly.

  I swallowed, studying the crowd of writhing bodies around us. This was something I’d definitely never done before. And they certainly weren’t doing the waltz. This was something that was more at home on the set of Dirty Dancing. Strange how you could put a sword in my hand and I’d happily hop around swaying to an invisible count in my head, but when you threw in fast music, tight dresses, and mood lighting, I suddenly felt like the clumsiest girl in the world. Not to mention that the few times Ro had caught me dancing around outside, he compared me to a frightened chicken. That didn’t exactly scream sexy.

  “Um,” I started, “I think I might not be so good at this. I just want you to know that now, so if you’d, like, want to find a better partner, I’d totally understand.”

  “Not possible.” He grabbed my hand and smiled. “Just pretend we’re sparring,” he paused, before leaning down and whispering, “really, really close together.” I could smell the subtle linger of whiskey on his breath and found myself suddenly wanting some liquid courage of my own.

  I cleared my throat, and nodded up at him, unable to formulate words for once in my life. Maybe this whole nervous thing could actually work in my favor for once.

  “Just don’t take the sparring analogy too literally. I don’t want you to punch me or anything,” he added before turning me towards him and dropping both of his hands to my waist.

  My body erupted into flames, chills rushing towards every extremity as I recalled the last time we were this close: Wade on top of me, pinning me to the ground, his body caked lightly in sweat. I took long, steadying breaths in, trying to focus on the music and very unromantic things. Like pudding. And puppies. And vampires.

  He swayed slightly, his hips grinding into mine. I followed the thrum from the music that was competing with the pounding beat of my heart. I looked up and found his blue eyes staring down at me unflinchingly. It was like he was studying me again, and I blushed under the scrutiny. What did he see that seemed to fill his gaze with confusion and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on?

  We danced for three songs, none of which I’d heard before. Cyrus had a thing for the Rat Pack, and whoever we were listening to was no Sammy Davis Jr. My body followed Wade’s movements effortlessly. He was a good partner. If left to my own devices, I’d likely wind up looking like a female Napoleon Dynamite. Which is to say, awesome. But also probably not the best for partner dancing.

  “Look, I know it’s not really my place. I know you just met me and I can’t expect you to trust me yet, but—” he looked down, a crease appearing between his dark brows, “I just want you to be careful around the guys in The Guild.”

  “The guys? Why? Do you mean you?” I pulled my hands away from his arms, suddenly confused.

  He chuckled and ran a frustrated hand over his face. “No, not me. And not all of the guys. Mostly just be careful around Jer. At least for now, until you settle in here.”

  “What’s wrong with Jer?” Wade’s eyes creased further at my question and I found myself enjoying the look of him getting flustered. For once, I wasn’t the one who didn’t know how to say things the right way. Looking at Wade’s brightening blush and the way he started to speak only to stop several times, I decided Ro was right—bumbling goofs were quite endearing.

  “It’s just, well. He’s a bit of a player. He has a reputation of going through girls like toilet paper—” he paused a beat, “well, maybe toilet paper is a weird analogy. But I just mean that I don’t want you to get hurt. And I know you haven’t been around a lot of people, I just wanted to make sure that you were aware. I don’t really think that Jer is the guy for you. Does that make sense? I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you or push you into something you aren’t ready for.”

  I nodded, smiling at his ruffled words. “I appreciate the warning, Wade. Really, I do. But if I didn’t make it abundantly clear during class today, I think I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, don’t you? Sure, I’m a little new to social situations, and I might be a tad more naive than most of the people here, but I’m not completely dense.”

  He laughed, a deep but soft chuckle that had my chest pounding louder than the music. “Fair enough, Max.”

  We danced along to another song in silence, before he looked back down at me, a small drip of sweat carving down his chest. It should have grossed me out, but mostly it just captured my absolute attention as it disappeared behind his shirt.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Max Bentley. The Protector Guild is sure to be much more interesting with you around.” His words slurred softly, and I was struck by the idea that he might actually be drunk. Which fit, because when I’d met him earlier, Wade didn’t seem quite as forward as Eli and some of the other guys on the grounds. His fingers dug softly into my waist, thumbs dancing in soft circles along the silky fabric of my dress.

  My blood started to tingle slightly with the feeling and I found myself struggling to focus on his words. What was it about the guys around here that had my hormones having a full-on fit? Maybe it was Cyrus’s fault for keeping us cooped up too much. My hormones were starved. When I looked up, his entrancing eyes were on my mouth, his face significantly closer to mine. My stomach dipped low and I bent my head back, ready for his lips to meet mine. The energy around us practically buzzed with heat.

  Until I remembered that this would be my second kiss this week or, well, ever, and that the first one was ruined by fish, and the second would be ruined by alcohol and a man who may or may not remember it in the morning. Decidedly, if slightly hating myself for it, I ducked at the last second. His mouth bumped softly against the side of my head, and I felt a moment of regret. The thought of kissing Wade was far more appealing than it should’ve been, considering I didn’t really know him at all and I’d been planning my future with Michael just a few days ago. I needed to take a break on the boy front, diving in was not wise. And I’d seen enough TV to know that juggling too many crushes was a recipe for disaster.