Page 14 of Creatures of Chaos

“What?” I practically squeak. He wants my number? No one in the history of ever has asked for my digits.

“Your number,” he repeats. “I’ll message you, so you have my number to get a hold of me if you find anything.”

Right. That makes more sense. He doesn’t want my number to socialize. He just wants to make sure I know how to track him down if I find the mysterious Shadow Striker.

I pull out my phone, intending just to ask him for his number, but for some unknown reason when he holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers for me to drop my phone into his palm, I hand it right over.

He gets a gleam in his eye as he punches in his number and then saves it to my contacts. And before I realize what he’s doing he shoots himself a text, his phone beeping in his pocket when it goes through.

“So I can get in touch with you. You know, in an emergency.”

“Right. An artifact emergency,” I say as I shake my head, unsure how I feel about him having my number.

He shrugs as if to say, “it could happen,” when we both know it won’t.

Talon raps his knuckles against the counter and then pushes back away from it. “Thanks for helping me out today,” he says as he walks backward a few steps.

“Sure,” I say, even though I didn’t really help him at all.

He jerks his chin in a quick nod and then spins, taking long strides toward the front door. With his hand wrapped around the handle, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder and giving me another slow once over. His gaze takes on the now-familiar intent look and a hint of frustration pulls his features. I’m convinced more than ever that when he stares at me like this he’s looking for something specific but keeps coming up empty. When his eyes connect with mine, my stomach bottoms out.

Oh, girl, you are in trouble.

The problem is that I don’t want trouble. I have enough of it on my own, so I don’t need to go looking for more. My gut tells me there’s something dangerous about Talon. It may bean irrational feeling, but it’s there nonetheless, and if there’s anything I can trust it’s my instincts.

I decide then and there it’s best to stay away from him. That probably won’t be an issue, because come Monday I’m sure he’ll hear of my magicless status and start ignoring me like most everyone else at Nightlark Academy does, so it’s a moot point. No need to give him a second thought after he walks out that door.

Talon shakes his head, his crooked smile looking almost self-deprecating, but who the heck knows why.

“See you on Monday, Locklyn,” he says, and then pushes through the door, the little bell chiming as he leaves. It isn’t until well after the door shuts behind him that I remember I never told him my name.

Four

My whole,“I’m not going to give Talon a second thought,” thing has not been working out for me. Since the day he visited the store he’s carved out a small space for himself in my mind that is starting to feel permanent. But in fairness, it’s mostly because I can’t get Shadow Striker out of my head.

I believe most of the Ancients are harmless myths at best, and completely fabricated stories to keep creatures in line at worst. But even so, for the rest of the weekend I can’t stop myself from circling back to the idea that there could be an object in existence that gives powers. It would be no surprise to anyone that a magicless creature like me would be intrigued by that concept, but the fact that I can’t seem to let it go disturbs me a little.

When my parents and I sat down for dinner the evening Talon dropped by our shop, I mentioned Shadow Striker to them, but they wore puzzled expressions. My mother, who’s more familiar with the Ancients than my father, said it sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t provide me with any details. I explained to them that a potential customer had stopped by looking for the artifact and gave them the description Talonprovided me of the weapon. They said they’d put in some inquiries with antique dealers they frequently worked with, and that was the end of that conversation.

That should have been enough for me, but it wasn’t.

After tossing and turning in bed for several hours that night, I finally gave up on sleep and took to the internet for information. One would think a story about a Vampire King trying to take over the world would be one of the more popular Ancients, but it was just the opposite. My parents’ lack of knowledge of the tale, and hours of searching the internet and coming up practically empty, proved that point. By the time the sun crested the horizon the next morning, all I had to show for my sleepless night was bits and pieces of the story Talon already told me, which only piqued my interest more and made me wonder just how he knew it in its entirety when the Ancient was so obscure.

I spent a good chunk of Sunday sourcing books from our collection that could potentially have some information on the tale, and then poring over them late into the night. I told myself this new obsession was just because I wanted to assuage my own curiosity, but deep inside I knew it was more than that. Talon might have played it off like he didn’t really believe the Ancients, but I could tell he did. And his belief that there was at least a kernel of truth in the story of Shadow Striker created a spark inside me as well.

What if there was something out there that could give me magic, could make me powerful? My life would change in so many ways.

Hours of research on Sunday only led to one possible and very shaky lead. In a copy ofThe Ancients as History, I uncovered a vague reference to some of the Ancients having been sealed away and struck from history because their tale, and the knowledge it provided, was considered too dangerous topass along. The books from our collection were old enough to be considered collector’s editions, but if it were true that some Ancients were purposefully concealed, then perhaps the tale of Shadow Striker and the Vampire King were part of that purge. Frustrated and unfulfilled I’d flopped into bed only a few hours before I’d have to get up again, dreading the next day.

When I wake on Monday morning, bleary-eyed and foggy, I trudge through my morning classes with my head down, looking forward to lunch when I can meet up with Ensley and maybe even Becks.

Becks is popular, so he doesn’t always sit with us at lunch. His status as the dragon heir gives him a lot of clout at this school, but it’s more than that. Becks is the kind of creature who others are attracted to without even knowing why. And it goes beyond his good looks. He has natural charisma that can’t be taught.

Honestly, my friendship with Becks is probably the only reason I’m not bullied on the regular. There are only a small handful of classmates like Jules who take the time to try to beat me down. Usually I’m just ignored, which works out fine for me. I walk through the halls invisible to most of the students at Nightlark Academy. Of course, I’m not actually invisible. If I had the power to render myself unseen that might be cool, but the truth is the other students see me, they just pretend they don’t. Perhaps some of them have been pretending for so long I have disappeared to them. Their minds completely dismiss me the moment I enter their field of vision.

It’s hard at times, but if my choices are to be invisible or bullied, I suppose I’m glad it’s the former.

I slide into my usual seat at the round table in the corner, keeping my back to the walls so I face out toward the rest of the space. Students eat lunch in the covered interior central courtyard in the middle of the main castle structure. Thecourtyard used to be open-air but was glassed in at some point. Despite how busy it always is, it’s my favorite place in Nightlark Academy. The ground is worn gray cobblestones, and there’s a smattering of fruit trees that circle a working fountain in the middle of the space. The four walls that enclose the courtyard have some of the most intricate stonework of anywhere in the building, telling me this must have been a special place for the original owner as well or he wouldn’t have bothered making it so ornate. The courtyard is the most social space in the school, and although I’m never part of any of the drama, I still like being able to watch it.

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