Sins of the Innocent Read online

  Bex pushed him back, and Levi stood up, wiping blood from his lip.

  He nodded. "Pretty good."

  Claire grabbed him, holding him against the outer wall of our house. "You saw what happened to her last night. Do you want that to happen again? What if you're distracted? What if you can't get to her? Do you want her to know what to do to protect herself? Or do you want her to die while she's waiting on you to save her?"

  Levi looked back at me and then nodded to my aunt.

  He walked back to the center of the courtyard and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

  "You haven't hit me yet," I said.

  In a blur--faster than Bex, faster than Claire, even faster than my father--Levi attacked. His elbow met my shoulder, nearly sending me to the ground, and then he spun, ramming his foot into the back of my knee. Before I could right myself, he kicked my back, sending me to the soil.

  He gave me a moment to stand, and then I shifted my weight, all of my focus being drawn in without effort. My adrenaline replaced thoughts with instinct, and I lunged for him again. I met each of his blows with my own, sometimes taking the full force of his elbow or knee, sometimes knocking him to the ground.

  Five minutes went by, and the pace didn't let up. After ten minutes, the intensity only amplified. Neither of us would let up. We were punching, kicking, spinning, using anything handy to throw or stab or smash.

  I stumbled back, holding myself up with my hands on my thighs, heaving.

  "Good," Levi said, spitting a glob of blood on the ground. "That was good. Could be better, but we'll try again tomorrow."

  "Who taught you how to fight?" Claire asked.

  Levi stood up, stretching his back, squinting one eye with the pain. "You pick up a few things when you live among the most evil beings in existence. She's tougher though," he said, nodding to me.

  "I haven't seen the"--she held up her finger and moved her arm in a circle--"thing before."

  Levi smiled at me, still breathing hard. "She handled it."

  "What do I"--I took in a couple of breaths--"need to work on?"

  "Speed and anticipation mostly," Levi said. "You've been sparring with the same people for too long. You're surprised too easily, and you're not sure how to recoup."

  I nodded, putting my hands on my hips. Levi limped over to me, letting me put my arm around his neck. We hobbled together to the house where Mom had set up a makeshift triage in the kitchen.

  Mom was more than just unhappy.

  But Grandmother was livid. "You couldn't have spared the sixteenth-century garden bench? Did you have to splinter it across his back?"

  "Yes," I said, grunting as I climbed onto a portable table covered with a plastic sheet.

  Levi was on the floor across the room with Dad and Bex.

  Claire poured antiseptic over a wound on my ribs, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  "This will be healed by morning," Claire said, pulling out the gauze and Ace bandages. "Let me see your arm."

  I held it out, revealing a laceration that spanned my forearm from elbow to wrist.

  "Oh!" Mom said, looking away and holding her wrist to her nose, keeping her gloved hand sterile. "I saw bone."

  "That might take a little longer," Claire said.

  I leaned over, getting a better look. "It's not that bad," I said, watching as the blood poured from the wound onto the plastic on the floor.

  "He fileted you," Mom said. She turned to look at Levi, who was being doctored on the other side of the kitchen.

  "Is she okay?" Levi asked.

  "I will kill you myself," Mom seethed.

  "Mom, stop." I held my breath as Claire worked. "We were sparring. It was a fair fight."

  Levi's brows pulled together, and he tried to stand. "Let me see her."

  Dad and Bex held him down.

  "Hang on," Dad said. "Let's get this wound closed up before your guts spill out."

  "What?" I said, looking over at him.

  Levi laughed once, clearly in pain. "It's fine. He's exaggerating."

  "No, he's not," Ryan said from the doorway, his arms crossed.

  I could tell by his expression that he was telling the truth.

  "He's not fine or Dad's not exaggerating?" I asked.

  "Both," Ryan said.

  I sat up.

  "Eden!" Mom yelled.

  "He's fine!" Bex said around the strip of tape hanging from his mouth. He was working fast.

  I lay back, shaking my head. "This was a bad idea. We could have killed each other."

  "We wouldn't have let it go that far," Claire said. "We need him alive for Bex, remember?"

  "I'm not feeling the love," Levi said.

  "You let it go pretty far," Mom snapped at Claire.

  "We had to see her limit. I'm not sure we've seen it. She could have beaten him."

  "I heard that," Levi yelled.

  "But she needs more practice," Claire said. "He's right. She's slow on the return, and she needs to work on anticipation. She's not intercepting like she should." She looked down at me. "But you'll get there. I'm impressed."

  I smiled, and Claire brushed back my sweat-saturated hair from my face.

  "Don't get blood on the curtains!" Grandmother scolded, holding up plastic against the windows next to Levi.

  "He's not in any shape to go home alone," I said.

  "He won't be alone," Bex said.

  "They're sending groups to attack," I said. "Bex will need backup."

  "He can stay here," Mom said.

  "In whatever room is farthest away from yours," Dad said without humor.

  Once Mom and Claire finished patching me up, Claire helped me to my feet. Dad and Bex were still working on Levi. He was lying patiently, happy to see me upright.

  "Dad?" I asked.

  "His abdomen was tricky. I would have taken him to the hospital if I wasn't sure we'd all be arrested. I could explain a bullet wound better than something like this."

  "He looks like he's been in combat," Ryan said.

  "You okay?" Claire asked, readjusting my arm around her neck. "Any flashbacks?"

  Ryan shook his head. "I'm okay."

  "Levi will be all right," Dad said. "Working on the smaller stuff now."

  "C'mon, kiddo," Claire said. "Let's get you to bed. You need to rest."

  "I'll see you later," Levi said, watching me shuffle out of the kitchen.

  Mom and Claire helped me climb the stairs one agonizing step at a time. I'd never been so injured, and I wasn't sure the extent of Levi's wounds. My instincts had taken over, and my memory of the entire match was hazy.

  Claire picked me up and lowered me to my queen bed, propping my head with a pillow.

  "I'm not helpless," I said.

  "I don't want you reopening that wound."

  "Did you put some plastic beneath?" Grandmother said from the doorway. "She'll seep and ruin the linens."

  "Cynthia!" Mom snapped. "For God's sake."

  "She's just worried, Mom."

  Claire went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet before returning with a wet rag. She folded it into quarters and then laid it across my forehead. "You did good. You've been holding way back with me. I'm jealous."

  Grandmother brought a glass of water, helping me to take a sip.

  "You guys are making me feel like I'm dying."

  "Well, you're not," Grandmother said. "You're just dehydrated. Besides, you're not allowed to die--not on these sheets."

  I breathed out a laugh. "Thank you."

  She touched my cheek. "Rest. I'll make you something delicious for dinner."

  I nodded, and she stood, leaving without another word.

  "Cynthia thinks a gourmet meal can fix anything," Claire said.

  "It can." I grunted as I tried to sit up higher.

  "Here. Let me help," Claire said.

  "I'm really fine."

  "No, in an hour, you'll be fine. For right now, you need to give yourself time to heal, or it will take longer."


  Mom pulled off her gloves and blew her bangs from her eyes. "All right. Your cell is on the nightstand. Text if you need anything." She walked over to place a small kiss on my nose and then held the door opened, waiting for Claire.

  "Oh, I guess that means I should leave."

  "She needs rest," Mom said, her tone final.

  Claire raised her brows. "See you in a bit." She fake-punched my arm and then stood up, the bed moving as she did.

  The door closed, and I sat alone, the mid-day sun pouring in through the windows. The baby-pink curtains hadn't changed since we moved in, and I didn't have the heart to tell Mom that I wasn't in love with that color anymore. I hadn't been even before Uncle Ryan started teasing me about it.

  The ivory furniture was older than me, and the books and toys were still in place, like time had frozen on one side of the room. The other side had aged with me with my music, magazines, and the pair of daggers hanging on the wall that Claire had gifted me for my twelfth birthday.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Bex peeked his head in. "Are you sleeping?"

  I shook my head.

  "You look like hell," he said.

  "Thanks."

  He turned. "I don't think you want to see her."

  The door opened wider, and Levi stood there, shirtless, covered in tape and bloody gauze. He was hunched over and sweaty, dirt still smeared on his face from the many times I'd tackled or knocked him to the ground.

  "Yes, I do," he said, sounding exhausted. He shouldered past Bex.

  "Easy!" Bex said. "Your entrails are going to blow out of that gash onto her rug, and then Cynthia will hate you forever."

  Levi ignored him, slowly making his way to my bed.

  Bex sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Why did you give me him? I'm going to die."

  Levi crawled into bed beside me, lying down on his side, resting his head on my pillow. His brows pulled together. "I told you we shouldn't have done that."

  "I'm more equipped to handle an attack than I was when I woke up this morning. I call that success."

  Bex closed the door, but I could still feel him in the hall.

  I reached over, sliding my fingers between Levi's, and he relaxed, letting his face sink into the pillow.

  "I wondered how you were going to react to all of this," he said. "I worried you would reject our life before."

  "It's strange. I have the memories, and I know they're mine, but I didn't experience them--at least, not in this life. So, it feels more like a wonderful dream than a previous life."

  "It happened. I was there."

  "Me, too," I said, trying not to laugh ... or breathe. Everything hurt.

  My eyes opened and closed slowly, feeling exhaustion setting in. I didn't remember ever being so tired.

  "How much longer do we have to do this?"

  "Until you're confident that you can leave me alone to fend for myself?"

  Levi blew a damp tendril from his eyes. "I was afraid you'd say that."

  "You don't think I'll get there?" I asked, surprised.

  He peered up at me with tired eyes. "I will always fight with you. Always."

  I woke up alone in my bed. Sunlight was pouring through the window, and I sat up quickly--too quickly--feeling a deep ache in my arm. The floor was cold beneath my feet, so I slipped them into my moccasins and shuffled to the doorway.

  Claire had come in during the night to help me shower and change my bandages. I made my way down the stairs in a pair of white linen shorts and a white oversized baseball shirt with peach sleeves.

  My side twinged once I reached the last step, and I sucked in a sharp breath, looking down. My bandage had seeped during the night, making an oblong bloodstain on my shirt. I lifted up the bottom hem and peeled away the tape. The wound was just a light pink scar, all but healed, but it was still sore.

  The doorbell rang, and I scanned the area with both my eyes and my senses. "Agatha?" I called.

  When no one came, I peered down at my shirt and then tried to cover it with one arm while I answered the door.

  "Morgan," I said, surprised.

  He gave me a once-over, shocked at the sight of me. "Is that from training?" He pointed to my arm. "Did Bex do that to you?"

  "No," I said, holding my bandaged arm behind me.

  When I moved, Morgan caught sight of the stain on my shirt. His eyes widened. "Good God, Eden." He glanced around quickly and then held out his hands, gesturing for me to come to him. "C'mon. I'll get you out of here."

  "Bex didn't do this to me, Morg. I, um ... I had an accident."

  Morgan frowned. "But ... the Audi is parked out front. It's fine."

  I pressed my lips together. "I wrecked my mom's car."

  "The Beemer? So ... did she do that to you?"

  My breath caught when I tried to laugh, and I held my side.

  Morgan held out his hands again. "Geez, Eden. You should be in bed."

  "What are you doing?" Levi said, appearing at my side. "C'mon, I'll help you upstairs."

  Morgan stood up straight, startled. His eyes danced. "You called him and not me?"

  I began to speak, but Levi beat me to it. "You were supposed to call before you came over, weren't you?"

  Morgan's mouth fell open and then he stuttered, "I-I guess. I'm sorry, but ..." His expression changed. "Did you call?"

  "No, she called me," Levi said matter-of-factly.

  I glared at Levi and then looked to Morgan. "He was in the car with me," I said, lifting up Levi's shirt to reveal the rectangular bandage spanning his lower abdomen. I also saw a set of finely chiseled muscles in the process, and I paused for moment before lowering his shirt. I blinked. "My parents insisted he stay here since he has no family around. You know how Mom is."

  "No," Morgan said, "I don't." He turned to make his way down the steps.

  I pulled out of Levi's grip and stepped out onto the concrete steps, growling with the pain. That unnerved me. We were supposed to be healed by morning.

  "Morg, wait."

  He stopped and then slowly turned around. "I get it. I figured I would be replaced when another guy came along. I guess I just thought it would be after we went off to college."

  "You're not being replaced, Morgan. Don't be silly."

  "Oh, yeah? It wasn't me you got in that accident with. You told me you had to train."

  "I did ... with Levi."

  "Yeah, and I can't do that stuff."

  "You don't have to. Since when have I required athleticism to be my friend? And since when can a person only have one friend?"

  "Does he have to call when he comes over?"

  "Morg ... my family is private. There are thing you just don't understand."

  "Oh," Morgan said, incensed. "He's rich. You're right. I'll never understand that." He began walking down the gravel drive.

  "Where are you going? How did you get here?" I called after him.

  "The bus. Same way I'm going home."

  "Let me drive you."

  He chuckled and turned around. "I don't think you're in any shape to drive."

  "Then let Robert drive you."

  "Who's Robert?"

  "My grandmother's driver. He'll take you anywhere you want to go."

  He rolled his eyes and then scanned our expansive home, wrinkling his nose as he squinted from the sun. "Will he take me back to two months ago?"

  "Morg ..."

  "See you around, Eden."

  I took a few steps, the rocks crunching under my moccasins, but my side was on fire. I held it and called out to my friend, "What do you want me to do, Morgan? You want me to choose?"

  He stopped. "Maybe I do." He turned. "Yeah ... him or me?"

  "You," I said without hesitation.

  "Really?" he asked, pushing up his glasses.

  "Yes. I'll make him leave if you want. Just come inside."

  Morgan looked past me, and I cringed, realizing Levi was still there. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see a look of disappointment,
anger, or jealousy, but he was smiling, proud even.

  "Did you hear that?" Morgan said. "She chose me."

  "I heard it. I'm not surprised in the least," Levi said.

  "You're not?" Morgan asked.

  Levi shook his head. "I'm not her best friend. You are."

  Morgan stood up a bit taller and then walked toward me. Standing next to me, he slowly hooked my arm around his neck and then helped me to walk inside. "Is your aunt here?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Will you protect me?"

  "Of course."

  Morgan supported most of my weight until we were in the kitchen where Grandmother was furiously working in the kitchen. Mom and Dad walked in, holding hands and smiling. Mom sat down at the dining room table, and Dad disappeared through the doorway, asking Grandmother if she needed help.

  "So," Mom said, "this is Morgan."

  "Nice to meet you," Morgan said, reaching across the mahogany to shake her hand. "You have a lovely home."

  "Thank you," Mom said, resting her chin on the heel of her hand. "It's not mine."

  "You're working today?" I asked her, noting her gray pantsuit.

  "Beth is gone, and I have a few things to wrap up before my hiatus."

  "Hiatus?"

  "I'm taking the rest of the summer off."

  "But I thought I said business as usual?"

  "I thought you knew I don't take orders from you."

  "Or anyone," Grandmother said, carrying a white dish in each hand. She set a plate in front of me and then Morgan.

  "If there's not enough," Morgan began.

  "Don't be silly," Grandmother said.

  I looked down at the plate. Grandmother had baked potatoes, cut them in half, and then topped it with a perfect ball of cheesy scrambled eggs with diced onion and tomato. On each side were two slices of bacon, garnished with curls of green onion.

  "It's beautiful," I said.

  "I don't think I've had a meal like this in ... ever," Morgan said.

  Dad came out with the rest of the plates stacked along both arms, and Grandmother helped him place them in front of each setting. Claire and Ryan arrived, ready to eat.

  "I could get used to this," Ryan said.

  "Don't bother," Claire snapped back.

  Morgan made a face, making sure to keep his head down.

  "Who's this little weed?" Claire said, leaning forward. The muscles in her arms tensed as she did so.

  Morgan's head popped up, and he looked to me.

  "This is my friend, Morgan. He's already terrified of you, so don't try to intimidate him."

  Ryan snorted, and Claire narrowed her eyes at him.

  "Excuse me," Grandmother said, dabbing her mouth with the napkin. She pushed out her chair and then left the room.