The house in front of Wren was tall and white washed, overlooking the canal. It was on the other side of the water, where the houses were more bunched up and the streets were busier. Hale raised his hand to knock on the door.
It swung open a few seconds later, revealing a tall girl with blonde with brown streaks hair wound up into a messy bun. Wren focused on her chest, which was covered with a paint splattered t-shirt. A pair of tattered full-length dungarees hung loosely around her waist, the arms tied in a knot around her waist.
“Hey guys,” she said. Her tone was bouncy and excited. “Come in. Clarin’s just in the living room.”
Wren wondered just exactly who Clarin was. It couldn't be the name of Celia’s great uncle, who was actually called Wilbur. Cara had mentioned last night at the awkward dinner they ate last night.
Celia waved them into a narrow corridor, which opened out into a rectangular living room with three huge windows overlooking the canal. A large art easel was positioned behind the windows; a dust sheet covering the carpeted floor. The TV was on and a tall boy was sprawled on the sofa, eating crisps. So this was Clarin.
“Clarin,” Celia hissed. “Clarin.”
The boy leaped up off the sofa, scattering the crisps bag. He yanked two earphones out of his ears. Leo sniggered.
“Sorry,” he grinned. “The Vamps were surprisingly good, Celia.”
Wren felt her eyes widen. Clarin looked like he had stepped right off the pages of an issue of Vogue or some other modelling magazine. His hair was dark brown and mussed up, like he had just stepped out of bed. The light outlined his angular features; his high cheek bones and sharp chin, along with his glittering green eyes, almost the colour of grass. He wore a grainy red t-shirt which his biceps bulged out of, and a pair of low slung, ripped jeans. But the thing that stuck out the most; Wren was certain she’d seen him before.
“I suppose you’re Wren.” Clarin took a step towards her, making to shake her hand. Wren continued to stare at his neck. She cleared her throat.
“Cara never mentioned they had another cousin.”
“Oh, I’m not they’re cousin, really. I’m just a third or fourth cousin of Celia’s. I used to be in the army, see, but I hated it so I ran away at 12. Found out about Celia and her family, came here.” He shrugged, indifferent.
“You were in the army when you were twelve?”
“My father was tyrannical, I guess. And by tyrannical, I mean a phyco that enrols three-year-olds in armies.”
Wren smiled. She was suddenly very aware of everyone staring at her.
“Um, so shall we go to-what’s his name again? Here lives here, right?”
“Easy, tiger.” Celia laughed. “Wilbur doesn’t live here. This is my flat after all.”
Clarin coughed. Celia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Fine, our flat. Wouldn’t want my decrepit great uncle living in our flat. Though it’s primarily my flat. I paid.”
Cara turned to Leo and Iris.
“You two are staying here.”
“What the hell?” Leo scoffed. “You bring us here, only to not let us see the good bit?”
“Well, I thought you may want to see your cousins.”
Leo threw himself down on the sofa, folding his arms. Iris was admiring the extensive collection of books on Celia’s bookshelf.
YOU ARE READING
Vital - Book 1 (On hold: to be rewritten)
FantasyIn the year 2015, one scientist created an army of genetically modified humans, the Triangulis, people with powers so valuable that they could save or take a life in a second. They can only hope to be good, but what if you were born to be evil? ...
