Sins of the Innocent - Jamie McGuire Page 0,7

skin.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“For remembering what I said instead of the fact that I let them throw you into the trash can.”

He waved me away. “You didn’t let them. There wasn’t much you could do.”

“There was, and I should have. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgiveness isn’t necessary. You can’t save everyone, Eden.”

One side of my mouth curled up, and I hooked my arm with Morgan’s. He walked me to class and then said good-bye. The energy in the hallway felt like an electrical storm was approaching. Students bounced while laughing and yelling in excitement. We were just two days from graduation, and it showed in the eyes of everyone I passed. Even the instructors seemed to be smiling more.

After the last bell, the student body bled from the school like an open vein, branching out in different directions. It wasn’t just any Friday. It was the dawn of our adult lives, our second beginning. Better than that, I managed to leave school wearing the same clothes I’d arrived in.

“No soda spills today?” Bex asked from the backseat.

“No,” I said, not bothering to turn around.

Paper crinkled in my uncle’s hands. “Nice quote in the paper.”

“It’s not mine.”

“It’s not?”

“But it is a nice quote,” I said. “What is the Cimmerian doing in my car?” I asked, pressing the ignition button.

I looked in the rearview mirror. Bex was sitting alone, but I could feel Samuel’s presence.

Bex glanced over his shoulder. When he turned to look at me in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes were darker than before. “Just drive.”

“Copy that,” I said.

Samuel was a noble among the Archs. His skin was dark and smooth like the night, and he was as enormous as he was intimidating. Cimmerians were the strongest of us all, sovereigns, and warriors, assigned to those who were marked by Hell—the humans who were born to be stalked and tormented. Samuel regularly went toe-to-toe with nightmarish creatures that most hybrids would struggle to take down.

“She’s become arrogant.” Samuel’s deep voice filled the car and my ears, resonating in my bones. “Sloppy.”

“As if you don’t conduct yourself with authority,” I snapped.

“Eden!” Bex barked.

I settled back into my seat, letting my emotions fall away. Those were human flaws. Anger was beneath me.

“You are human,” Samuel said. “Even after your mother’s insistence to keep you humble, you’ve forgotten who you serve.”

“I know exactly who I serve. I’m a sacrificial lion, Samuel. I don’t have to be happy about it.”

Bex glowered at me. “Show respect, Eden. Last warning.”

I gripped the steering wheel and yanked it to the left before stomping on the brakes, dragging the wheels across the gravel drive.

The moment I slammed my door, Bex slammed his, his Nikes crunching against the rocks beneath his feet.

“Eden,” he called after me. His hand encircled my arm. “Eden! What are you talking about? Sacrificial lion? You’re not making any sense.”

“Graduation is this weekend. I turned eighteen. Samuel is here. I feel a culmination, don’t you?”

Bex folded his arms across his chest. “You think your big show is coming, and we’re keeping it from you? You don’t really believe that.”

I bit my lip, looked away, and then glared up at him. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Stop,” he said. “I’m on your side, remember? It’s okay to be scared.”

I pushed away from him. “I’m not scared. Why is Samuel here?”

Bex glanced back at the house and sighed. “Your dad is going to kill me for telling you. You know he likes to reveal things in his own way.”

“Well, this isn’t about him, is it?”

Bex took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. It was a perfect day with the early summer sun bearing down on us. I tried to block out the thousands of sounds I could hear while outside—the sprinklers, cars going by, the neighbors fighting down the street, dogs barking, insects crawling between blades of grass.

“Something is happening. We’re just not sure what. There has been activity,” he said.

“You mean, more activity?”

“Correct. Let’s, um … you want coffee?”

“Will there be truth at the bottom of my cup?”

“You can’t unknow things, Eden. You should think about that before you ask.”

“I’m the last one who should be in the dark about these things. I know my parents think they’re protecting me, but they’re not.” I paused, seeing Bex’s expression. “And you know it, too.”

“Coffee it is. Get in. I’ll drive.”

Bex drove us to a café a few blocks away from Brown University. The cozy corner shop held a special significance for my parents