Page 206 of Caelum

NINE LIVES

FROM THE DIARY OF B. ANHEIM:

The States, as always, seem to loathe me.

I can never return without a thousand mosquito bites, food poisoning, or some variation of misery, which makes me wonder why I enjoy visiting the country so much. And without Avalina there—I always hate traveling without her but she had a conference in Newcastle that couldn’t be avoided—I’d fully anticipated loathing every minute of my time away, but I was pleasantly surprised.

I never could resist Savannah, and that was the only reason I traveled without her. The city calls to me in ways I can’t describe. The vintage feel of the place sends shivers down my spine, even though I’ve had the pleasure of vacationing there several hundred times over my many years.

This visit was no different, but there was a small twist. I happened upon Chance Gentry in the city. Unusual for him, he wasn’t knee-deep in peanuts at his farm, but he did offer me use of his boat. We visited Wassaw National Wildlife Refuge. It was a delight. We sailed through winding creeks, exploring parts that were difficult to access, even though most of the area is only visitable by boat anyway. It’s been a good ten years since last I saw Chance, but he remembers my endless curiosity, as well as my love of the sea.

According to Chance, night camping is not allowed in the Refuge, and campfires are a no-no. So, imagine my surprise when I sensed one of my own despite the restrictions. We stayed overnight on the boat, anchoring down so we could go night fishing and get some rest before setting off once more in the morning, and I felt her throughout the night. She didn’t realize it, but shecalled to me. Her soul was trapped and screamed for aid into the early light of dawn.

Avalina and I have restricted the contact we have with those of our kind. Our connections are intentionally limited with Caelum for a reason. The majority of the faculty don’t know what we are, can never know, and the more interactions we have, the worse it could be. Personally, I’m tired of changing identities, and I have a good ten years left as Dr. Bartlett Anheim before I have to move on. However, as Chance and I meandered around the border islands the following morning, the brisk whip of the wind off the Atlantic making our cheeks ruddy from exposure, I couldn’t ignore the girl’s silent cry.

I’m mad at myself for endangering our situation, but Merinda promised to remain quiet as to how she learned of the girl’s unique location. She’s never let me down before on the rare occasions I’ve called her in, and I can only hope she doesn’t this time. If she does reveal the truth, Avalina and I can pack up and leave, and we’ll have to start over again, but I’ll be angry at the unnecessary waste of time and effort I’ve put into this persona so far.

These bones are getting older, even though I’m loath to admit it, and the notion of starting again is beyond wearisome. This is the final incarnation, but that doesn’t mean our time is up.

Still, the girl was unique enough, her desperation solid enough, to make me pick up the phone. Merry’s a good sort, and I can only hope she doesn’t let me or the girl down. It’s in God’s hands now.

ONE

EVE

I felt punch drunk, and for someone who’d never even been drunk the regular way, that definitely came out of nowhere.

My head felt light, whereas my body felt heavy. My eyes ached from the minute light shining from onboard the yacht—our destination—and my ears whooshed with the sound of the sea rushing past us.

The wind was bracing, and even though it was a warm night, the crisp breeze was enough to make me cold. Of the many things my body was currently enduring, that was probably the nicest of them all. The chilly sensation was enough to prevent me from vomiting over the side of the small vessel that was cruising at indecent speeds.

My entire life, I’d been in two automated vehicles, the boats at the compound had used oars to get around, and while I far preferred those, I was coming to understand I didn’t like anything that moved this quickly.

At all.

Bodies weren’t made for moving at this speed. We were supposed to keep things, at most, around a fast sprint. Even that was only in a panic, and I begrudged every second of having to do anything other than meander at a walking pace.

Sucking down the cold air, focusing on trying not to pass out once more, I nestled into the warmth at my back that I registered as Eren just from the bone-deep comfort I felt by being in his arms, and didn’t even bother listening to the conversation going on around me. I should have though, since it was about my situation—well,oursituation.

I was no longer a single entity.

There were eight of me.

That made me sound like that odd science experiment from the nineties that I’d read about a few days ago, where Dolly the sheep was cloned, but no mad scientists had forged this bond between myself and the six males I’d Chosen. At least, I didn’t think so. Considering Caelum, the place we’d just escaped, was over a hundred years old, I figured people like us had been around for quite a while without modern science getting involved.

Ugh.

Caelum.

With a shaky hand, I rubbed my temple and turned to look back at the island we’d just escaped from. The Academy sat on the top of a cliff, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Even from this distance, I could see the lights from the building, and the place that had been a haven for the men at my side was rapidly getting smaller and smaller.

Guilt. It hit me like a wrecking ball to the belly.

“Hush,” Eren murmured in my ear, making me tense and then relax when he distracted me from my consuming thoughts. “We’re here because we want to be.”

My brow puckered. “How could you want to be here? Running away from a life you established long before me, and from a home you made when you were children?”

“Purposes change,” was all he said, like that made sense.

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