Rewritten

Chapter 13: Secrets

 Alteration biology The study of the genetic makeup of altereds, and the differences between them and other humans.

  

"I seriously hope you know what you're doing."

 I jumped at the sound of my father's voice, turning towards the entrance to the laundry room. My dad stood dressed for work in the doorway, eyebrows raised at me as I held up a pair of his jeans that looked like it might fit Connor. I had no idea what dad was doing there - it may have been a weekend, but normally he left for work earlier, so I hadn't thought I would run into him. "I... don't know what you're talking about."

  He folded his arms, looking positively murderous for a moment. "I'm not stupid, Athena. I know Connor's in your room." He rubbed his temples. "You do realise that he's a hunter, right?"

  My jaw clenched. "Yes, dad." I tucked the jeans under my arm, grabbed a shirt that looked like it might fit Connor, and turned to leave. As I did he grabbed my arm, stopping me. He stared at me imploringly, his brow crinkling with stress as he spoke.

  "Be careful, Athena, please." My dad sounded more scared than ever. "Especially if it could affect Art."

  I nodded, then rushed upstairs to Connor, my father's words churning through my mind. Dad was right -  I did need to be careful. The only problem was that after being introduced to Marcus last night, I didn't know who to trust. Lyann was behaving strangely, Connor was asking me to keep secrets, and the only other altereds I knew were threatening me for something that wasn't even my fault. I shook me head at the absurdity of it all as I pushed open the door to my room, almost forgetting that one of the reasons for my stress was currently sitting on my bed.

  "Are you okay?"

  I jumped for the second time that morning, dropping the clothing in my hands on the floor in the process. Connor laughed lightly, shaking his head as he came over to pick them up. As he stood he pulled me into a one armed hug, kissing me on the forehead. He then leaned down to kiss me on the lips,  but I turned away before he could. I needed answers,  and Connor's kisses were oddly distracting.

  "What's wrong?" When I didn't reply  Connor gently turned my head towards him. "Athena?"

  I glanced downwards,  not wanting to meet his eyes.  "You need to get..." I trailed off,  staring at his chest. It wasn't his muscles that distracted me, even though his body did look good from all the training he evidently did. What had really caught my eye were the long scars across his chest. I ran my fingers over them lightly. "What happened?"

  The scars were a mix of old and new, with some lines faded to almost nothing, whilst others looked as though they'd happened only a few days ago, the livid red lines stark on his pale skin. Connor hissed with pain when I accidentally touched one of the newer ones, and I wondered how he'd not reacted with my head on his chest the whole night, especially if they hadn't been bandaged.

  I would have pulled away, but he caught my hand instead, holding it against him. "It's okay," he murmured when I tried to pull away again. A mirthless grin flickered across his face as I glanced up at him. "They don't hurt as much as they first did."

  "Who did this to you?" I was horrified. The cuts looked pretty deep, and the clean cut lines made it obvious that they had been caused by a blade of some sort.

  "Hunter training." Connor's reply interrupted my thoughts. I stared at him in shock. Connor's jaw was clenched, eyes blazing at the idea of whatever it was that had caused the wounds in his chest. The expression was a familiar - I recalled seeing it in the park. Without a second thought, I reached up to touch his jaw, trying to comfort him.