Trigger Warning

Five

Five (7 years earlier)

“Are you ready?” Zeke popped his head in the door to find Amara lying on the low to the floor bed. She had an arm crooked over her eyes and she was breathing evenly.

           In one fluid motion, Amara rose until she was standing. Her fingers trailed down to the weapons belt that hung loosely from her hips, which in theory was impractical, if not for the two straps that wrapped crookedly around one of her thighs that connected to a small pouch.  Two knives were sheathed at either end imperiously, a third sticking out of her combat boot, and he was sure that there was a fourth and possibly even a fifth hidden somewhere else on her.

           Amara was relaxed with Ezekiel. She liked him a lot better than Adrian, the leader of the Ren clan who she’d met with a few days beforehand when they brought her here. Adrian was intimidating and had the gaze of a man who could slit your throat and then be found sipping margaritas by the pool with a smile. She preferred Zeke.

           He took an assessing look at her.

She looked ready to kill. She was all black—black hair, black clothes, black shoes—contrasted against pale skin. Her shirt was a tank top with a complex number of straps, jutting out here, swooping there. Some didn’t even appear to be attached to the main cylinder of cloth.

Zeke frowned when he looked up at her hair, though. It came down to just below her waist and it hadn’t been put up.

“Impractical.” Zeke told her.

Amara looked down at herself, wide-eyed. “I know the shirt’s a little on the shorter side, but—“

“Your hair’s down,” he elaborated.

“Well what was I supposed to do with it? Braids hate my hair and putting it up is a hassle.” She pouted.

Zeke shook his head at her. “Whatever. When you nearly get killed, let it be known that I tried to prevent it.”

She grinned up at him, brushing past him out of her new home and into the halls. The Ren complex was very modern and unfamiliar. The Idalis compound was rustic and set high in the mountains. This place was in the business district of town, ignoring any zoning laws, but that would only matter if people ever saw the place. The greater majority of the complex was deep underground—below the basements of all the businesses.

The walls of the hallway were a muted blue, chrome light fixtures places every thirty feet or so. There was a black cherry table at the end of that particular hall, where it turned into a corridor that branched off into the other wings.

Ezekiel led Amara towards the southeast wing, where Ren initiation took place every year.

Amara dug her fingernails into her palms, letting her nerves seep out of her skin and leaving them with every step she took. Not the most effective method, but it was certainly less noticeable than getting jittery.

After what seemed like an eternity down the far less brightly lit walls of the southeast corridor,  Zeke pulled to a stop. He turned to Amara and smiled at his new recruit.  “You’re tough,” he told her, reaching down to tighten the belt at her waist to a more reasonable fit, “Initiation will just tell you where you fit into the Ren’s.”

She nodded, hooking a thumb in her belt, a natural gesture for Jayden, and stepped through the door.

There were eleven people total, mostly kids that looked around fifteen, but the oldest of which around twenty five. Amara didn’t take much note of them, though. She was on a mission to get through this without getting caught. Friends were the last thing on her mind, really.

She propped herself against the far wall of the sixteen by twenty foot room and proceeded to brood, waiting for the instructor to come.

She’d actually gotten pretty good at it when a black boot came into her field of vision. Ignoring it, Amara continued her I-don’t-give-a

“Well, either you’re extraordinarily deep in thought, or purposefully ignoring me.” A distinctly male voice said, drawing Amara’s attention. “So tell me, should I be embarrassed or insulted?”

As she raised her eyes, she immediately noticed a wall of lean muscle, then a pair of broad shoulders, and next a head of white-blonde hair.  His green eyes were hinted with a slant, as if somewhere back in his lineage, there was Chinese. He offered a charming smirk.

She gave an uninterested eyebrow raise.

The guy frowned, crossing his arms. “I don’t know, this mysterious tough girl act is hella cute.”

Amara could feel his gaze sweeping down her, taking in every curve, every bunching of fabric, every inch of her. But she tried to ignore him.

“I’m Silas, by the way.” He tried next, realizing that she wasn’t taken in by his rugged good looks. “Silent but deadly, I’m assuming.” He kept going, “Damn girl, you’re good at this.”

She squeezed her toes together, the most unnoticeable thing she could think to do.

Rolling his eyes, Silas attempted, “You must be the girl my dad told me about. Amara Withers, right? He failed to mention that you were good at sexily brooding.”

Her mind rolled through the possibilities of Silas. Who was his father and how did his dad know Amara? Ezekiel wasn’t old enough to have a kid her age. And the only other guy she’d met her was…

It snapped into place in her mind, this was Silas Ren, the son of the Ren clan’s leader, Adrian.

He would be useful.

“Just wait until you see me when I’m actually brooding over something.” Amara cracked a grin at him.

Silas’s eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. “So she does speak.” He exclaimed, “Here I was beginning to suspect you were mute.”

“You were determined,” Amara responded, hooking a thumb in her weapons belt, “I’ll give you props for your relentlessness.”

He laughed, “Well, I was doing you a favor. I’m a great friend to have.”

“I don’t doubt it, Sy,” she shrugged.

“Sy? No one’s ever called me that before.” He told her, “I like it.”

“Glad to be of service,” she kept her voice emotionless. “The answer, however, is going to be no.”

He glanced up at her inquisitively, light reflecting into his dark green eyes. “No to what?”

“Judging from your body language and inflated ego, you were planning on making a move on me. The answer is: hell to the no.” she shrugged.

He raised his eyebrows, “I had no intention of...”

The door opened and everyone in the room fell silent as a woman walked into the room. She had short cropped blonde hair that looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed and shook her head before entering.

Silas leaned in next to my ear and nodded towards her, whispering, “Kara Marks. This is her third year running initiation. She won’t be as kind to your habit of ignoring people than me.”

Amara smirked at him.

The instructor looked up at the group, her eyes scanning over them. “If you think that this is going to be easy,” she jutted a finger towards the door she’d just come in, “The door’s right there. No one’s going to force you to stay here.”

“My name’s Kara and I will be here to assess you during this time.” She said, adjusting the watch on her wrist, “As far as pep talks go, I won’t be giving any. Let’s get down to business. Follow me.”