Darkness Above Read online

  She pulled a pair of clean olive-green cargo pants and a matching t-shirt from the drawer and threw them at me. Since my reflexes were still steeped in alcohol, I didn’t catch the standard issued uniform in time and the clothes hit my face before falling to my lap.

  “Sorry,” I murmured.

  “No you’re not. Now go take a shower, you smell like vomit.”

  I touched a hand to my cheek, where my hair was plastered to my face by something that might have been a little too thick to be drool. “I didn’t actually vomit though, did I?”

  Torrance crossed her arms and arched her brow. “What do you think I’ve been doing all day? Mopping the floor because it was dusty?”

  My gaze went to the mop and bucket in the corner. Neither of us owned cleaning supplies, so she obviously took it from the janitor’s closet at the end of the hall.

  Even though vampires didn’t sleep, and Torrance had to occupy herself while I snoozed, she wasn’t my maid. It wasn’t her job to pick up after me. Especially not bodily fluids.

  I winced and apologized again. “Sorry.”

  Torrance pointed to our shared bathroom. “You can make it up to me by not being late.”

  I nodded and then trudged into the facilities where I tiptoed over the cold tile and stepped into the single-person shower stall. I stripped and washed quickly but took a moment to examine the bruises over my ribs and thighs. I doubted Torrance would have let me fall on my ass during last morning’s party, so they must’ve been from training. None of them hurt. Much.

  I dried and dressed, adding underwear, socks, and combat boots to the uniform. After applying ample leave-in conditioner, I used my fingers to separate the soft curls and then pulled them back into a ponytail, securing the locks with my favorite rainbow sequin scrunchie.

  Torrance knocked on the door. “Done yet?”

  “Just a sec,” I called out.

  “We literally have three minutes to get to the Hall. I mean, I’m fast but ….”

  I looked at my reflection in the mirror above the sink and sighed. I hadn’t meant to be hungover tonight. The party was supposed to be a small gathering, but every senior cadet and half the faculty had shown up. These days, people were encouraged to find happiness wherever they could, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be consequences. I could only hope that talk of last morning’s festivities didn’t reach Head Huntsman Chayton.

  Or worse, my father.

  “Jordan Korento, I will leave without you!”

  I chuckled at the empty threat. Torrance was my bodyguard. She couldn’t go anywhere without me. But for some reason she always acted as though keeping me punctual was part of her job description.

  Looking at my reflection again, I drew a deep breath and released it slowly. To be honest, being late to my shift was the least of my worries.

  “This is it,” I murmured to myself. “Tonight, I meet my mother.”

  I haven’t seen Mom since I was baby, which meant I had no real memories of her. I should be more excited. Other girls would be. Normal girls. But my family wasn’t normal. My father was a vampire king. My mother was a legend; a vampyre queen who’d done some badass shit in her lifetime. And now she was an elite assassin on her way home after twenty years of training.

  No pressure, right?

  3 JORDAN

  Several smooth, well-lit paths cut through the campus. One even paved the way from the dormitories to the training hall. But since Torrance and I were running late, we ignored the convenience and hauled ass across a field large enough to house a football stadium. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in burnt oranges and dark pinks.

  The training hall—or the Hall, as everyone called it—was a state-of-the-art warehouse located in the northwestern corner of the campus. Surrounded by dense woods, the Hall stood apart from the rest of the buildings that together formed the institution known as the Sword of Somnus Brotherhood.

  The wide double doors of the Hall’s main entrance were propped open by the time we arrived. Several squadrons of first year and second year cadets filled the interior. They ran through different drill sequences as instructed by their squad leaders. Third year and fourth year cadets occupied the sparring mats, where they paired off against one another and engaged in hand-to-hand combat while under the watchful eye of their superiors.

  Usually, more senior cadets would gather around the sparring mats and offer themselves up for a practice match, hoping to vet the fourth years. Tonight, there seemed to be a distinct lack of seniors.

  Torrance shook her head and tsked. “I’ll catch you later.” She lifted one hand in a half-hearted wave while strolling toward the sparring mats.

  I couldn’t remember the first time Torrance volunteered herself for practice—if it had been her idea or someone else’s—but I didn’t blame her for finding ways to fill the time while waiting on me. The world might have been at war, but life on campus was as exciting as dry macaroni. Every day was the same: training, lunch, more training, lessons, if you were still of school age, briefings if you weren’t, dinner, sleep. Rinse and repeat.

  Cadets weren’t allowed to leave campus for any reason other than family matters or deployment, but most cadets had no family to speak of.

  Despite allying ourselves with the Coalescent—the vampyre alliance who fought for a peaceful co-existence—most of the world’s population didn’t like us. We were Hunters; human beings with vampyre ancestry. We carried the same Nephilim gene as our nocturnal cousins. Ours was just dormant. Unfortunately, being born of two species meant fitting in with neither. We weren't human enough for the humans, and not vampyre enough for the vampyres. In other words, leaving campus was forbidden for our own safety.

  My squadron noticed me and peeled themselves away from their idle chit-chat. They assembled into neat rows, hands behind their backs, eyes forward. I looked them over as I approached. “We’ll work with spiritus today.”

  The cadets removed their talismans from the leather cords around their necks, each handmade piece as unique as its creator, and held them in neutral position. My own talisman hid beneath my shirt; a silver-plated disc with tiny star and moon etchings. The design had been the rebellious workings of my adolescent self. I had refused to use my father’s crest or my mother’s emblem.

  I drilled my squad on the different breathing techniques, forcing them to be aware of their breath while running through various combat exercises. The spiritus enchantment increased oxygen to the blood, which meant less fatigue and more stamina. They could run faster. Hit harder. Recover sooner.

  I walked between them, grading their movements. Physical training begins the day you set foot on campus. Young children are taught to tumble and fall without fear. Older kids learned mixed martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. I learned gun control at twelve and could wield every blade known to man by fourteen. First years were expected to do all that and more without ever losing control of an enchantment. After all, power doesn’t help if you’re dead.

  “Ankles, Sean,” I called out. “Start over. Lynda, why is your arm shaking? Drop and give me a hundred. The rest of you, into fifth position.”

  While the cadets moved into their next battle sequence, I turned away and covered a yawn with the back of my forearm. The pain meds were wearing off and my temples throbbed.

  Lowering my hand, I caught sight of Torrance on the sparring mats. She was paired with Senior Cadet Spears; a blonde girl better known for her bra size than her fighting technique.

  Torrance moved like a whip. She lunged into a front handspring, arching her back so her thighs landed firmly around the cadet’s neck. The move forced Spears to fall backward as Torrance sat her full weight against the girl’s chest. She would’ve taken a wicked hit to the back of her head had Torrance not cradled the nape of Spears’ neck while planting both feet firmly against the mat, breaking the fall.

  Spears had squeezed her eyes shut but, realizing Torrance had softened t
he blow, opened them and released a deep sigh of relief. Their gazes met. Torrance’s grin lingered a moment before she released Spears with a gentle plop against the cushioned floor. Spears’ entire face turned beet red as she smiled shyly.

  A few onlookers cheered and money changed hands, but most rolled their eyes. Torrance was a rude reminder that even with enchantments, many of us didn’t stand a chance against vampires or worse; their much stronger sires, the vampyres.

  The lunch bell rang, and I returned my attention to my squadron.

  “Back to neutral,” I yelled to be heard over the other squad leaders. The cadets slowly powered down their talismans and grounded themselves by taking several deep breaths to avoid shocking their systems. When they finished, I nodded. “Dismissed. Remember to hydrate.”

  Torrance strolled toward me. She stretched her arms overhead and pulled on both elbows, causing the hem of her tank top to rise. Her flat pale stomach was visible before she dropped her arms to her sides. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” I lied. My head ached, and I’d give my left pinky toe for a cup of strong coffee.

  Torrance focused on something behind me, and her expression darkened. “Guess who’s back.”

  “Who?” I turned to find out.

  At that moment, Sergeant Card Finch entered the Hall and strolled toward the sparring mats.

  My insides melted.

  Besides being tall and lean and hot as hell, Card had the uncanny ability to blow into a room and make instant friends. Even now, the other senior cadets gathered around to congratulate him on his latest mission while third and fourth year girls hid behind their hands, whispering and giggling.

  The scar on his bottom lip fractured his easy smile as he ran his fingers through a shock of dark hair that was just long enough to tip his lashes. Card took the praise in stride, his brown eyes nearly amber gold under the fluorescent lighting.

  The Sergeant had been one of three Drag deserters who showed up at the Sword of Somnus Brotherhood just over two years ago, wanting to join us. Unlike his comrades, who mostly kept to themselves and ended up working in the kitchens, Finch possessed what Head Huntsman Chayton called initiative. After passing a six-month inspection conducted by the Elders, Card quickly rose in rank. The Sergeant spent more time leading missions than anyone I knew, and his team always returned with minimal injuries.

  What I liked most about Card Finch, though, was his sleeve of tattoos. Black scales covered every inch of his left side, starting just below his square-cut jawline and continuing down his muscled arm all the way to his fingertips. When he flexed, it was like watching a snake slither.

  I faced Torrance and upped my brow with a cheeky grin. “Looks like he needs a sparring partner.”

  Torrance frowned. “Looks to me like he already has several.”

  “Maybe,” I said while walking backwards, bringing myself closer to the sparring matts. “But not anyone at my level.”

  Torrance gave me a knowing look.

  With a flirtatious saunter, I faced forward and pushed through the Sergeant’s gaggle of fans until I stood directly in front of him. “Hey, Sergeant. Need someone who’s not afraid to kick your ass?”

  Finch gave me a once-over and chuckled. “I won’t go easy on you just ’cause you’re a girl.”

  “Good, neither will I.” I raised my fists and distributed my weight. Our audience took several steps back.

  Finch smirked. “All right, you’re on. Cadet …?”

  “It’s senior cadet. And it’s too bad you missed my party last morning.” I gave him a warning jab. He leaned left, easily ducking the punch.

  “Is that so?” Finch lifted his fists and widened his stance. His grin revealed a set of perfect white teeth. We circled while studying each other's weaknesses. He was bigger, which meant his punch would hurt, but I had years of practice with Torrance, so I knew how to be quick.

  And patient.

  I waited for him to make the first move.

  His shoulders tensed as he feigned back, but I noticed the subtle footwork. The heel of his boot slid just a little more than it ought. He was going to try a combo kick. I smiled to myself, more than prepared to put him on his ass.

  Before Finch could strike, Senior Cadet Cramer came between us and put a hand on the Sergeant’s chest, stopping him. “Sir, you can’t spar with her. That’s Jordan Korento.”

  “Who?” Finch stepped around Cramer, keeping his fists high.

  I followed suit, shifting left. “Shut up, Cramer,” I warned. “Unless you want your butt whooped too.”

  Cramer scowled. “She’s King Jesu’s daughter.”

  That did it. Finch lowered his arms and looked me up and down, his brow furrowed in disbelief. “You’re serious?”

  “You little weasel.” I swung at Cramer’s stupid frog face, but before my knuckles connected with his cheekbone, an ironclad grip halted the strike. Torrance stood with her hand wrapped around my fist, her gaze narrowed in disapproval. I yanked my hand from hers and huffed.

  “Sergeant Finch?” The four of us turned to find a meek third year cadet, her rank marked by the purple patch on her uniform. She stood near the main entrance of the Hall with her hands folded in front of her. “Head Huntsman Chayton wants to see you.”

  Finch nodded and followed the cadet outside.

  As soon as they were gone, I punched Cramer’s shoulder—much more gently than I wanted. “Ass.”

  Cramer frowned and rubbed his arm. “Stay away from Finch.”

  I scoffed. “Jealous much?”

  He scrunched his nose. The more he frowned, the more he looked like a bullfrog.

  We’d known each other since we were kids. He once grabbed my breast on a dare, and I gave him a black eye. Torrance had let me that time. She also defended me when Huntress Nesca sent us to Head Huntsmen Chayton’s office to be disciplined.

  “Do you have any idea how important the Sergeant is?” said Cramer. “How many missions he’s carried out? Not all of us can play pretend with Daddy’s money. Some of us are risking our lives for real.”

  “Eat a dick, Cramer, you haven’t been in the field either.”

  He sneered. “I thought princesses were supposed to be ladies. Guess that trashy mouth is why your old man dumped you here with the rest of us.”

  My fists clenched.

  Torrance squeezed my shoulder while baring her fangs at the senior cadet. “Walk away now, Cramer, while you still have the chance.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, vampire.” Cramer turned away and left the Hall with his jaw set.

  “Not me you need to fear,” Torrance muttered.

  I shook with fury, watching him leave.

  “Let it go, Korento.” Torrance released my shoulder. “He’s not worth it.”

  But Cramer knew my father was a sensitive topic, and he didn’t just touch a nerve; he stomped on one with that comment about pretending. I glared at the other cadets. “Anyone else have a problem with who my father is?”

  Gazes turned away as my peers busied themselves with whatever they were doing before Cramer insulted me.

  I released a slow breath, unclenched my hands, and reminded myself we still had thirty minutes left for lunch. “Let’s go.”

  “Where to?” asked Torrance.

  I started walking. “The Administration building. They have the best coffee on campus, and I could really use a cup.”

  Torrance followed. “So, the fact that it’s in the same building as Chayton’s office, where Sergeant Finch went, has nothing to do with it? Because I’d rather go to the Tin and get a blood bag.”

  “Of course not,” I said innocently. “This is about my hangover, and that coffee makes the mortal brain hurt less. Although, if we happen to see the Sergeant, I could ask if he’d like to join us.”

  Torrance was silent as we left the Hall and made our way across the green, but I didn’t miss the slight pinch in her brow or the way she tug
ged both lips between her fangs.

  I sighed. “You have a problem with me hanging out with Finch too?”

  “I don’t like him.”

  I don’t like Spears. “Why not?”

  “Don’t trust him.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding for emphasis. “But I’m still waiting for the why.”

  “He’s an ex-Drag, for one thing.”

  I faced her, trying to work out if she was serious. “He spent six months getting his brain scrubbed by the Elders. If he had even a single malicious thought, they would have found it.”

  “It’s not just Finch.” Torrance gave me a cursory glance before focusing on our path. Tiny blue LED lights lined the edges, casting small halos over the loose pebbles that crunched under our boots. “I’m worried about you, Jo. It’s not like you to seduce your targets out in the open. You’re usually more discrete. And you don’t normally black out at a party either.”

  “A girl only turns twenty-one once, right?” I shrugged, lowering my gaze as we walked.

  “I know you’re nervous about meeting your mom. Want to talk about it?”

  “What is there to talk about? I’m just meeting the woman who brought me into the world.” And then abandoned me to become an assassin. “No big deal.”

  I used to think my mother was a hero; a self-sacrificing warrior who prevailed in unprecedented times. Probably because that’s what everyone told me to believe. But I didn’t need a badass assassin or a queen. I’d needed my mother. Dad needed his wife.

  I shook my head. Not only did I not want to talk about it, I didn’t even want to think about it. What I wanted was a handsome distraction with tattoos.

  “Fine,” said Torrance. “One cup of coffee coming right up. Just don’t make us late for your next shift.”

  4 JORDAN

  The layout of the campus resembled a compass. Each building faced the central courtyard with the dormitories to the east, the schools and lecture halls to the west. The Tin—or mess hall that doubled as a lounge for the senior cadets—stood to the north. The library and the Administration building lorded over the south, facing the parking lot and the narrow gravel driveway that led to the gates of the Sword of Somnus Brotherhood.