The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) (10 page)

“Let's sit over there.” Ben nudged her elbow and headed to the front row.

“Where do you think you're going?” A burly boy stuck his leg out preventing Ben from passing through. “Faggots are not allowed in my row.”

“Oh? And maggots are?” Ben arched an eyebrow at the boy's companions sitting on either side of him who a
bruptly stopped laughing.

“Watch your pie-hole!” the burly boy snapped.

“Hey, maggot-head!” Carlos pushed past Ben. “Move your stinky foot before I kick it out of the way!”

“Oh, yeah? You’re still the devo
ted fag defender—huh, Carlos? Or should I call you Carla?” The boy stood up, towering a good five inches over Carlos. His friends flanked him on both sides. Around them the other kids waited, anticipating a fight.

“Say that again and I’ll show you who the real man is between the two of us,” Carlos growled.

“Carlos—don't.” Ben tugged at his arm. “It's not worth it.”

“Come on.” Lela pulled on his ot
her arm.

Elizabeth stood anxiously next to Ben, hoping Ca
rlos would listen.

“If you think you can bully anyone here—you be
tter watch it. I bet if you didn’t have these two maggots with you, Ben could knock you out with a pinky.” Carlos smirked.

“Ooo . . .” the crowd chorused.

Without warning the boy snarled, fangs bared. His hand flew, sharp claws drawn.

Carlos ducked.

Elizabeth watched in horror as his pointed talons whizzed past Carlos' head and zoomed towards Ben.

She blocked it with her hand without a moment's hesitation.

A collective gasp sounded in the room.

“Whoa,” Lela said. “You got some reflexes.”

Elizabeth stared at the boy's thick wrist in her tiny hand, suspended in mid-air. His claws were an inch away from swiping Ben's face. He angrily yanked his wrist out of her grip.

“What's going on here?” A man with wild brows, thick mustache, and chic
ken-nest hair called from the door. He peered at them with large, droopy maroon eyes, and entered.

They all scattered, rushing to their seats.

Elizabeth and Lela took the nearest chairs on either side of Ben. Carlos sat behind them.

“That was cool, girl!” Carlos whispered. “Where did you learn that move?”

“Uh—I don't know how I did that,” Elizabeth replied, still shaken.

“Thanks for saving my face,” Ben murmured.

“Do you know him?” Elizabeth glanced at the burly boy who had physically reverted back to normal. Goosebumps rose on her skin just thinking about how sinister he looked not a minute ago.

“Yeah—since fourth grade. Bart Hammerstein, the most notorious third-sex offender,” Ben muttered under his breath. “The other losers are his cr
onies. Joe Wayne and Oscar Lynch.”

“They've been bullying you that long?” Elizabeth asked, aghast.

Ben nodded. “Not just me, but anyone who's gay or friends with me. So be careful.”

“Don’t worry—I got your back.” Carlos patted Ben’s shoulder.

“I know.” Ben half-turned and did a fist-bump with Carlos. “I don’t always say it, but thanks for being a true friend.”

“Aw, shucks! Quit the mushy stuff. You’re going to make me cry.” Carlos made a face.

“Poo-poo head!” Ben said.

“Drama queen!” Carlos retorted.

“Sshhh!” Lela glared at both of them.

The gentleman with the droopy eyes placed his things on the desk. “I'm Mr. Thomas Clark, your instru
ctor in Social Hierarchy. Before we begin—Mr. Hammerstein? Is there anything I should know?”

“Uh, no Sir.” Bart sunk further into his chair.

“Let me make this clear to all of you.” Mr. Clark swept his gaze about the room. “There will be no bullying in my class. Understood?” He rested his eyes on Bart with a frown.

Bart and his friends squirmed in their seats.

“Now let's begin.” Mr. Clark picked up a white board marker. “Our race is grouped into four types of breed. Can anyone tell me what they are?”

Lela raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Ikeda?”

Lela stood up. “The Royals, Descendants, the Tainted, and Hellions.”

“Very good.” Mr. Clark nodded. “Let's commence by discussing the Tainted first, since everyone in this class is Tainted.”

He went to the board. “As you well know, the Tainted are Deimons born against the covenant, from the union of one immortal parent and one human parent,” he pointed at the equation he wrote in bold letters.
Immortal + Human = Tainted
.  

“Why is it against the covenant?” Someone called from the back of the classroom.

Elizabeth recognized the girl as Julie Anne, the pretty, petite girl Lela had introduced to her earlier.

“Good question, Miss Riggs,” Mr. Clark said. “The covenant does not tolerate the union because it has many consequences that rarely end well. A Deimon who falls in love with a mortal faces many difficulties. One of them is the temptation to succumb to his predatory i
nstinct that could be fatal to the human partner and others. Only the highly disciplined ones are successful.” He paused and looked around. “Any other questions? Yes, Miss Jill Weber?”

The girl with copper-colored hair rose from her chair. “What if a Royal, a Descendant, or a Hellion m
ates with a Tainted?”

“Then the offspring will still be a Tainted. Any child who has a trace of human genetics will mature and age as a Tainted.” He wrote another equation on the board that read:
Any breed + Tainted = Tainted
.

Elizabeth wondered about her dad.
If she was a Tainted and her mom was a Deimon ... then he must be human! Was that the real reason for her parents' separation?

“Now let's talk about
Conversion
.” Mr. Clark walked halfway into the middle aisle. “Can anyone tell me what it is?” He pointed to Jared. “Yes, Mr. Crowe?”

“Conversion is a genetic transformation where h
uman DNA is prevailed by our potent DNA.”

“Correct!” Mr. Clark strolled back to the board. “The human gene becomes dormant and the immortal gene becomes dominant. This results in the alter
ation of your physical appearance, preferences, and physiology. You become stronger and faster. Your senses heighten and your diet preference changes.” He wrote the summation:
Human to Immortal = Conversion
.”

Elizabeth sat up eagerly, remembering the same discussion with her mom.

“Does anyone know when the Tainted experience Conversion? Yes, Mr. Walker?” Mr. Clark nodded at Ben.

Ben tapped his index finger on his cheek. “Between the ages ten to thi
rteen?”

“You're right,” he said. “It coi
ncides with puberty, when the body is undergoing significant changes. Before Conversion, your dominant genetic structure is human.” He wrote another summary:
Tainted at 0 to 9 years = Human 10 to 13 years = Immortal
.

Elizabeth frowned.
Why did she undergo conversion at seventeen? And what about the black pearl?

“Now who can tell me what Maturity is?” Mr. Clark turned to face the class again. “Mr. Bret Kline?”

The tall guy dressed in Goth stood up. “
Maturity
is when Conversion reaches its peak and affects the ageing process.”

“Exactly!” The instructor waved the white board marker in his hand. “This is when your abilities achieve their full potential. Everyone is unique. Some may be stronger, or more perceptive. It depends on the potency of the gene you inherited from your immortal parent. Does anyone know when the Tainted reach maturity?”

“Between forty five to fifty five years old?” Carlos answered.

“That's correct, Mr. Guerrero. Maturity age also d
epends on the quality of the inherited gene. The more superior the gene, the earlier the Maturity.”

“But how does Maturity affect the ageing process?” Debbie Parks, the big-boned girl with severe features they’d seen earlier, asked in a ma
nnish voice.

“Maturity
slows down
the ageing process for the Tainted to
a year per decade,
” Mr. Clark replied.

“You mean I will look like a forty year old even though my real age is fifty?” Debbie Parks asked.

“Precisely. Tainteds age because they carry a dormant human gene.” Mr. Clark wrote on the board:
Tainted Maturity = Peak Conversion Potential + Age Deceleration

“Our ageing won't slow down until we're forty five to fifty five?” Ben cupped his face between his hands. “I’ll go broke buying face cream! Waaahh!”

The instructor stopped writing and swiveled to look at him. “Are you all right, Mr. Walker?”

“Hwwaaa—”

Lela slapped her hand on Ben's mouth with a loud splat. “He's just having a
wah-hah
moment.” She smiled innocently. “You know—too much human T.V.”

Mr. Clark raised one bushy eyebrow at them.

The bell chimed.

“We will continue our discussions next time,” he addressed the class and gave Ben another suspicious glance.

Elizabeth stood up and grabbed her bag, ruminating about what she had learned. She was in the Tainted class, so obviously she belonged to this group. But she couldn't quite quell the discrepancies of her
Conversion
.
Why was she different?

“Elizabeth!” Carlos called by the doorway with Ben and Lela. “Hurry up! We can't be late for Combat!”

Chapter 9

Combat Class with Major Alexander

 

       E
lizabeth observed the young, powerfully built man standing before them on the manicured lawn next to the Coliseum. He held himself in a confident stance—feet apart, chest out, hands behind his back. His black leather jacket hugged his muscular form with matching tight leather pants tucked in knee high boots. A short ponytail confined his blond hair beneath his nape and a faint scar sliced downward from his temple, bisecting his right eyebrow.

“I am Major Alexander, your instructor.” He watched them take their spots and assemble in columns. “Who among you can defend yourselves in Combat?” His scarlet eyes swept the class.

Silence.

“And who among you,” he continued, walking slowly through their ranks, “have been in actual co
mbat?”

Silence.

“Just what I expected!” he exclaimed, making some of the students wince. “You see, our lives are more complicated than humans.”

He stopped to stare at the boy next to Elizabeth, who paled and swa
llowed with an audible gulp. ”You are here because your parents chose to live in peace, but where there is peace, there is conflict. For us to maintain our way of life we have to fight for it. Not all bloodlines are good. Not all bloodlines can be trusted.” He clasped his hands behind his back and made his way to the front, then turned to face the class. “Combat is where you learn how to kill in order to live your chosen life.” He looked every student standing near him in the eyes.

Elizabeth bit her lip. The mere thought of commi
tting murder nauseated her even if it meant defending a cause.

“Today, I need to see your abilities in terms of speed and agility.” Major Alexander cast his gaze t
owards the rear of the class. “Royals!” he beckoned.

Elizabeth's heart jumped. Her classmates turned to gawk. She did the same, but was too short to get a good view.

“The Royals will pick some of you to challenge them. It will hurt a little, but count it as a learning experience.”

At Major Alexander's signal, the Royals began to walk between their formations, making their selection.

Two male Royals made their way along the aisle on either side of Elizabeth. She sighed with relief when they chose two boys and headed to the front where the other Royals awaited with their picks.

Elizabeth peeped around the girl ahead of her. The Royals were dressed in black leather like Major Alexa
nder. She recognized Prince David, Prince Philippe, and the blonde twin Princesses, who picked Bret Kline, the boy in Goth, and Debbie Parks, the girl with the permanent scowl. Lady Catherine had selected Carlos, whose grin extended all the way to his sideburns.

Elizabeth sank back and sighed, wondering why she was missing a ce
rtain tall, dark haired someone.

“You,” a deep voice said behind her.

Startled, she swiftly swung around and smacked right into a stone wall—except this one was clad in leather.

Elizabeth clutched the material to steady herself and focus. The wall had a zipper that went up and up, until it ended on a black cadet collar.

She blinked. The collar had someone's neck, the neck had someone's chin, and the chin had someone's lips, chiseled and red, and very ...
Oh shit
.

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