The Killing Season (4 page)

I couldn’t bear to hear him say it, so I interrupted. “In revenge? For killing the day-form ’swang that attacked us in the ward?”

Sunny grabbed my hand, a soft squeak escaping her mouth. I hadn’t told her about the ward yet, and this was a hell of a way to find out.

“They’re vindictive bastards.”

“No,” I said, still not understanding, my hand clutching Sunny’s now, “that ’swang attacked us. We killed it in self-defense. How could they retaliate for something Peg had no control over?”

“What are you talking about?” Sunny asked. “Ollie, what happened?”

I stared at her for a moment, my brain struggling to add things up. None of this made sense. “Dean wouldn’t let me tell anyone, but Peg and I were attacked in the ward. I couldn’t . . . I mean . . .”

“That’s why you started acting so weird,” Sunny said quietly. I nodded, feeling my heart break all over again as I recalled the pain of that day and all it had cost me. “But why would the aswangs go after Peg’s family for that?” she asked Coldcrow.

Coldcrow studied us for a long moment before he said, “Aswangs are a tight-knit unit. A pack. They strike back when one of them is taken out, just like we do.”

Everyone talked about these creatures like they were dumb, rabid, purely instinctual beasts. Fear University taught that very concept to its young students, but I already knew not to trust the university’s curriculum. Not to mention I knew first-hand just how real and intelligent and human-like these creatures were. Retaliation didn’t seem farfetched when I thought about it. It explained why Luke and Hatter had gotten me off the streets so quickly after I killed my first ’swang in Kodiak.

As I processed my thoughts, Coldcrow studied me, his eyes seeming to take in every doubt crossing my face. When I met his bleak eyes once again, my jaw clenched in anger. “I’m sorry for your loss. Her family didn’t deserve that. They were innocent.”

Coldcrow huffed, his shoulders slumping, and the towering man practically crumbled right in front of Sunny and me. “Innocent certainly,” he said, voice gruff with emotion, “but guilty by association.”

My attention snapped at his words–his very calculated words. “What do you mean? Guilty because of Fear University?” When it didn’t seem like he was going to answer, I asked, “Where is she staying?”

With a slow certainty he met my eyes, and when he spoke, a shiver sliced down my spine. “They transferred her to Fear University. She’s critical.”

“Is she safe there?” My words were careful and slow as I studied Coldcrow’s reaction. If Dean even had an inkling of an idea that Peg was trying to help me, he would kill her.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Once again, his words didn’t match the weary trepidation in his eyes, but he stepped toward us, putting a large hand on Sunny’s shoulder. “Darlin’, you passed your room. It’s back that way, second door on the right from the stairs. Ollie, yours is on down the hall in the alcove. Can’t miss it.” He paused and cleared his throat before staring me straight in the eyes. “I may be an old man, but I think you and I are more alike than you think.”

I frowned at his words, wanting to ask what he meant, but he walked away, disappearing around the hall’s corner.

Stunned, I looked at Sunny. Our friendship wasn’t repaired completely, but when she went to hug me, I didn’t cringe away. I let her comfort me, squeezing my waist tight, and I offered comfort in return. Peg, my ally and friend, had lost her husband and baby and almost her own life. And something told me Coldcrow was sending me a message with those words. Something important. Something I needed to know.

“We can talk tomorrow,” Sunny said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Tomorrow,” I promised.

We said goodnight before separating. Feeling like my legs were made of rusted steel, I slogged down the shadowed hallway, counting doors and keeping an eye out for the alcove.

The hall to my right suddenly opened up into a little nook, the wood beneath my feet changing to a worn, ancient stone. I fumbled for a light switch on the wall beside me. When my fingers finally found the little knob, I flicked the lights on, which consisted of one fluttering sconce on the wall in front of me, the bulb dimmed with age and dust.

But it was enough to see the tangle of limbs beneath it, the heavy breaths, and nearly silent moans that cut off as suddenly as the light had come on.

I blinked in shock, and two sets of eyes blinked in surprise right back at me.

“What the fuck?” I managed to choke out.

Abigail giggled, pulling the edges of her blouse together and covering her exposed breasts. Sin stepped away from her, eyes snapping toward me with such violence that the instinct to bare my teeth flared up in my chest. He did up his tight jeans, but it did little to hide the significant bulge in his pants. He raised a hand and pointed at me, “Don’t you dare—”

I cut him off mid growl. “Shut the hell up.” I looked around him, my eyes falling on Abigail. She’d been half dead with booze at dinner and was surely in no state to be getting it on with someone like Sin. “Are you okay? Should I get someone, Mrs. Aultstriver?”

“She’s fine,” Sin snapped, closing the distance between us.

I pulled out the switchblade from my boot. I’d made a habit of carrying it with me now after Fields and the list of enemies I was stacking up. Time to add one more. “I didn’t fucking ask you, did I?” I angled the blade toward him before splitting my attention back to Luke’s mom. “Mrs. Aultstriver?”

“Shh!” she hissed, putting a slim, pale finger to her lips, which were swollen from Sin’s kisses.

She was clearly still out of it, swaying and giggling like a school girl, her eyes staring dimly back at me. I had no doubt in my mind Sin had taken advantage of her. Hurting her. And I didn’t stand for that shit.

“I’m getting Luke.”

Faster than I could react, Sin surged forward and grabbed my arm, the one that held the dagger, and squeezed a pressure point in the juncture of my elbow. A warning flash of heat spread up my arm, exploding in my broken collarbone, and my fingers spasmed. The blade clattered down to the stone floor. Abigail hushed us again.

“Abby,” Sin hissed, directing the words over his shoulder, “go back to your room, okay? Sleep well.”

He almost spoke with warmth, but I didn’t buy it. Abigail slipped by us and disappeared down the hall like a pale ghost, her feet whispering against the floor.

“You asshole,” I spat, tugging hard enough on my arm for my healing collarbone to send a burst of light and heat across my vision. I stilled and tried not to sway on my feet, but Sin just tightened his grip.

“Don’t you dare say a word to Luke. If you tell him, well, accidents are known to happen up here.”

“You think you can scare me with that weak-ass threat? You’re a fucking pig.” Ignoring the fact that I just might re-break my pelvis, I twisted my hips fast enough to catch him off-guard and nailed him right between the legs.

With a choking gasp, he doubled over, clutching himself. His knees hit the floor. I stepped closer and kicked him in the shoulder. Too weak to keep his balance, he bowled over with a breathless squeak. I stood over him and said quietly, “I won’t tell anybody, but if you touch her again, I’ll kill you. I’m watching you, pig.”

I left him on the floor. Unsurprisingly, I found the bedroom in the alcove locked. Clearly, it wasn’t mine, which meant Coldcrow had sent me down this hall to find Sin and Abigail, even though I had no idea why he wanted me to.

I finally found my room next to Sunny’s, and, when I laid down after locking my door and shoving a chair beneath the knob in case Sin came searching for me, I thought about Peg and retaliation and Abigail. Lies and secrets spun through my head faster than I could track.

I was getting the awful feeling that Barrow might be far more dangerous for me than Fear University ever was.

* * *

The next morning, Killian summoned me to his office for a meeting. I hoped Abigail hadn’t told him what I’d stumbled across last night. That would be more awkwardness than I could deal with this morning.

Before I left for the meeting, I took an icy-cold shower. Even when my body started shivering, making my broken collarbone bark with heat, I didn’t feel alive.

Peg’s family was dead. Her baby. Her husband. And she was lying helpless in Fear University’s ward with no one to watch her back.

I slapped the nozzle to turn off the stream of water and stepped out of the shower. Questions ran through my mind, one after the other. I ripped a towel from the rack and scrubbed it over my body, ignoring my broken ribs. She wasn’t scared when we talked after the attack in the ward. At least, not for her life. She would have told me if she felt endangered, but I didn’t even know what that danger would be. Aswang or human. Or both.

When I was dry enough, I tugged a hairbrush through my tangled blonde mess. Parts were matted where I’d tossed and turned all night. I hadn’t gotten much sleep lately and it showed on my face, with dark bruises marring the puffy skin beneath my eyes. But my problems were petty compared to Peg’s.

The hair brush stilled in my hand as a dark thought occurred to me.

Had Fear University orchestrated an attack on Peg? Had Dean? Maybe it was only meant to look like a ’swang attack.

If they’d tried to kill Peg, a valued professor and hunter, I didn’t want to imagine my chances of making it through winter break in one piece.

I brushed my teeth and dressed before heading back out into the hall. When he’d stopped by with news of my summons, Burt had said Killian’s office was on the first floor by the library. I followed the directions, not really paying attention to where I was going or the overly illuminated paneled hallways. I wondered if the excessive amount of lightening was Abigail’s doing. Maybe she thought a thousand light bulbs could make up for the fact the sun never streamed through a window in this place during the winter. Did she even get to go outside?

Peg might never go outside again. Might never feel the sun. Never hold her baby.

I cringed at the thought, slowing my pace in the long hall full of dusty chandeliers and worn wooden flooring. I passed an archway opening up into a room full of books, their musty-paged scent circling around my nose. The history inside the room called to me, but I kept going until I came to the next room.

A heavy wooden door with an elaborate locking mechanism loomed in front of me. I knocked. From inside came Killian’s muffled, “Come in.”

The office was small but meticulously tidy. Shelves lined the walls, and I imagined the books were all alphabetized. A huge fireplace took up most of the wall behind Killian’s sprawling metal desk, which was dented and chipped, like it had been tossed into the middle of a ’swang battle. It, like everything else in the room, served a purpose. There was nothing pretty and cozy about Killian’s office.

God, even the metal, tilting chairs in front of his desk served to torture someone.

“You sent for me,” I said, choosing to stand rather than sacrifice my ass.

Killian swept off a pair of thin reading glasses, reminding me of Luke’s pair, the cute glasses he’d needed to read his books while we’d lounged in his bed all those peaceful hours during fall break. I swallowed and told myself to get my shit together. “We need to talk.”

I bit back my smart-ass reply. “About what?”

“You.”

Killian Aultstriver, a man of many words. His son acted so similar, and yet, so completely different. I wondered if Killian knew Luke was a better man because he knew exactly how
not
to model himself, thanks to his father. Got to give it to kids raised by asshole parents; we were scrappy as fuck.

“I take it Dean Bogrov has sent his marching orders to you.”

My words caused Killian’s jaw to clench, but they hit their mark. He was nothing more than Dean’s whipping boy. “More like
your
marching orders.”

I smiled sweetly, thankful this conversation wasn’t about his wife getting it on with Sin in dark alcoves. “I’ll let you keep pretending.”

His fist tightened, like he pictured striking me with it, before he flexed out his fingers. “You should be careful, Miss Andrews,” he said quietly, “because I don’t value you as much as Dean does. You are not my grand prize to protect, and you’ll do well to remember that.”

“You must be forgetting that Dean tried to kill me a couple weeks ago.”

He barked out a laugh. “Kill you? Or prove to your doubters that you’re worthy of their investment? You see, I’m one of your doubters and I didn’t buy Dean’s little show. So while you live in my home, and this base is my home, you will abide by my rules, not Dean’s. As such, when you address me, you’ll address me with respect.”

My smile sharpened on my face, the edges of my lips cutting into my cheeks, my teeth baring in a wicked snarl. “Why of course, Mr. Aultstriver.”

Killian returned my smile, and a shiver crept down my spine. “As you know, you passed your Fields examination.” I held back my derisive snort. “You’re still a student of Fear University, and will be returning to the school after you complete your extra credit work up here during break.”

“Extra credit.” I let the words drip off my tongue like battery acid.

“Yes. Extra credit.”