Eccentricities (book one of the Eccentric Worlds Saga)

Eleven

The features Melanie was staring at were identical to those on the picture gripped in her hand.

Bridget had been a physical Eccentric, one whose powers were identifiable through her physical discrepancies. She may have passed for human if it hadn't been for her skin, pale and nearing blue as if she had been left out in the cold for far too long. That, and the slits along her neck and sides Melanie knew from her readings acted as gills. She was young, too, just brushing thirteen, and the fear in her eyes echoed it.

The vines loosened in her surprise, and at once Melanie was jerked forward as Bridget pulled away. She stumbled, catching herself before the unfamiliar Eccentric could wrestle out of her grasp and knock Nigel atop the head like she had been planning. She pulled the vines taunt, and the Eccentric winced as thorns scrapped skin.

Nigel stumbled away from the Eccentric, falling into place beside Melanie, if slightly behind. He was looking for protection, she realized. Pulling the vines tighter, the Eccentric squealed in pain and dropped her make-shift weapon.

"You're alive," Nigel said, the awe in his voice matching what was already in Melanie's head.

Bridget scanned the room wildly, pale eyes jumping from door to window. "Who are you? Where's dad? What did you do with my dad!"

"We didn't touch your dad—" Melanie began defensively. Nigel cut her off.

"Your dad went out. We didn't realize anyone else was home, we just wanted to have a look around."

"You could've just knocked."

"Tried that," Melanie said. She let her grip slip, and as it did Bridget relaxed, no longer restrained. "Your dad didn't welcome visitors too kindly."

"What are you looking for? If it's money, we don't have much. I swear, there's nothing here."

Feeling Nigel's elbow in her side, Melanie sighed and let her vines fall completely, though they didn't retract. As they fell, relief washed over the girl, and she took a step back. Preparing to run, Melanie assumed.

"Actually, we could use your help," Nigel said, and as he did Melanie felt him reach for her. She almost pushed him away and snapped at him for touching her without warning, for attempting to show off the one thing she had been most careful to hide.

But she didn't, and as he pulled back her hair to show the hint of a black tag tucked beneath it, the girl's expression shifted immediately from concern, to realization.

She smiled, and when she spoke it was soft and understanding. "You're a Black."

Melanie tucked the tag back, swallowing. "Yeah. I am."

"You're alive... So, does that mean—" her eyes brightened, and as they did the gills along the sides of her necks flared— "Does that mean the rest are too? Did you see her there, is she okay?"

"Who?"

"Bridget!"

Nigel and Melanie exchanged glances. It was Nigel who spoke. "You're not Bridget?"

Again, her expression changed. "No, uh. No, she was my sister. CASTE came and took her away a few years ago."

"And not you?" Melanie asked.

The girl shrugged, shifting so that she could press her weight against the wall. "I hid. We were both supposed to. But the Collector was getting close and dad couldn't keep him away. Bridget came out. They took her, they thought there was only one of us. But, if you're here, then she can be too, right? Then that means they kept her alive, right? She's just locked up?"