***********************
Earl 'Miraculous' Garner
I seat myself on a bench not far from Wyatt's still form. Looking down for a moment beside me, I see a glint of metal sticking out of the duffle bag with his arm in it. It's all ready to go with four Sigils in it. He just has to finish this training.
And dear Devil, is it awful.
For the past week, he has stood unwavering in the face of untold punishment and torture, all in the pursuit of mastering a skill that seems almost otherworldly. I know he can take it. I know he can. But still... It's bad. The Bloody Palm isn't even helping him with this one due to its hibernation. This is all Wyatt Graves' brand of stubbornness.
But it's needed. The skill that he's endeavoring to bear is legendary. The Dzil that let Edmund fight as if he was a 5th Sigil while a 3rd. The Dzil gave Edward the confidence to rebel.
Shiver, based on how Edward explained it to me at least, is a skill that will grant Wyatt the ability to evade danger without even needing to see it coming – a sixth sense of sorts forged from the depths of his soul. At higher levels of mastery, it will even activate whatever skills one may know to remove them from danger.
My gaze remains fixed on my friend, his form battered and bloodied from the relentless onslaught. He stands, his eyes tightly closed, the intensity of his focus etched into every line of his face. He's cut away all his senses, leaving nothing left to discern danger apart from his soul. Across from him is Edward, the only other living soul with this unique Dzil. He strides around Wyatt, taking only a few seconds in between short slashes and stabs toward the young man.
Most of the time, Edward pulls back before making contact, but not every time. If he did, then there would be no danger.
The week has been a relentless cycle of strikes without any evasion. It is opposite to most fights, which are dances of danger. It is simply a beating testing not only Wyatt's physical stamina but also his mental resilience. Edward said we do not have time for a second attempt to learn the skill for Wyatt. Soon, we have to attack Eli's compound before the Nahullo come. We recently killed their Viceroy, and the pale northerners are pretty vengeful. That's an understatement, though. They are the most vindictive of all races.
So this is the only chance Wyatt will get for a while, and possibly ever, to learn this Dzil from Edward. Seven straight days of torture. Blood covers the ground around Wyatt, and his clothes are torn in so many places I see more skin than cloth. And yet, my friend persists, driven by a determination that goes beyond mere stubbornness.
But throughout the seven days, it's not as if there has been zero progress. Every time Edward swings at him, only those that deal actual damage, I see slight shivers along Wyatt's body. A type of tremble that hints at something more significant.
I watch for almost an hour while Edward relays orders during his onslaught on Wyatt. Had this been any other figure, I'm confident they would have given up or died. But not my friendly Graves. As tough as artifacts, they are.
But as I observe, hoping silently that he succeeds soon, I find Dawn stepping up to Edward, exasperation in her very stride. The Bloodied Beast shifts his head to meet her as the man's arms are covered in the blood of Wyatt.
"You need to stop this, Edward. You're going to kill the kid. I know this is training, but this is too far. Seven days? He hasn't moved an inch! Take a break. Let him rest. We are sieging the compound on Monday, remember? Two days. Give him the two days to rest, and then he'll be fine for the fight."
My eyes flicker back and forth as I feel a need to say something, but Edward does it for me.
"He's close, Dawn. I can feel it. Those tiny shivers when I strike? He's so close—just a little more time. If we stop, he'll lose the feeling, and we'll have to do it all over again. But who knows when his artifact will evolve? It's now or never. The second that thing wakes up, he's never getting this skill."
Dawn scoffs and steps around Edward to be in between him and Wyatt while putting her arms out. The woman stops Edward for a moment with her actions.
"He's also close to death. Your medically trained past reading heartbeats and bandaging wounds. His limbs are infected. His bones are broken from the impacts. He has to be at a lethal level of blood loss. This boy won't handle enough to get this skill, Edward. Just... let him live. It's okay if he can't follow after you and Edmund. He's only a kid."
Watching the two, I find Edward pause, the Claymore of flowing blood in his hand sinking into the dirt as his head twists. I can see his face gnarl in indecision before finally shaking his head. The moment I notice his choice, I stand and walk over.
"Fine. You're right. I shouldn't risk his life over the skill. He can always try to learn it over the years. The Bloody Palm may make it more difficult, but that doesn't mean it will be impossible. It doesn't have to be now, even if now is the best time. Let me wake—"
"No. Continue. He can handle it."
I break into the conversation, standing beside Wyatt's still form. This close, I can see the injuries perfectly. The flesh is torn all over, and blood drips from every patch of skin on Wyatt, from his forehead to his fingers. But...
"Wyatt can't die."
Edward and Dawn stare at me weirdly, immediately voicing their thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want your friend to die? He's—"
I answer Dawn in the middle of her sentence, not wanting to wait in case the seconds of pause affect Wyatt's training.
"He can do this. I've seen him with far worse wounds. When I met him, he was thrice as injured and weighed half as much. I've seen him pull himself from immolation. I've seen him pull himself out of a stopped heart. I've seen him have his spine blown in half and still fight. Until he hits the ground and stops moving, Edward, he can't die."
Dawn's eyes grow sadder and more depressive as I speak, but I see that Edward finds his mettle. The Angel glances back and forth once more before hardening his gaze. He turns back to Wyatt and places a hand on Dawn's shoulder.
"Maybe Earl's right, honey. We are thinking through this as if he is an average human. He is a Graves. The legends of their family are not exaggerated as those of the Estates are. They do not need to be."
Dawn sighs, slapping her face lightly as she steps aside, relenting. But as she moves, the woman places a condition.
"The moment he trips or stumbles downward, this is over. I'll immediately heal him with my Ether."
I nod to this, and Edward does as well. The Bloodied Beast retrieves his Claymore from the dirt. While he does so, I move around to stand beside Dawn and observe the training.
"Come on, Wyatt. You got this. Just a little more."
***********************
Wyatt 'Wendigo' Graves
I stand somewhere in the training ground, all my senses deliberately muted by Tranquility. It's an odd sensation, existing in a detached and distant world. My ears pick up not even the faintest echoes of sounds; my eyes perceive a world shrouded in darkness, and even the sensation of touch seems muted and remote. Pain hardly exists but is the only reminder that I am still alive. Even time stretches and weaves oddly.
Which day is it? Has it even been another day? I don't know. But my focus refuses to waver as I feel another tiny lash of pain that hardly pierces through Tranquility.
I have been enduring this training for what feels like hours, though the passage of time is nebulous at best. The goal is to tap into a sixth sense, a connection to my soul that transcends the need for traditional reactions. Only then can Shiver genuinely shine. The skill is absurdly difficult, and even when I master this part of it, I won't be done. I'll simply be mostly there.
For, after sensing things with my soul, I still need to have that work in tandem with the Instinctual Ether. This whole skill requires a wide weaving of techniques that come together to create a fantastic Dzil. But that's precisely why I need it so badly.
As I stand here, I feel a vague sense of unease, an instinctual awareness that something is about to happen. This happens again and again, but time seems to flow in fits and starts, and I am left in a state of perpetual anticipation. Every fiber of my being is attuned to the energy around me, waiting for the slightest shift that might indicate danger.
My body tenses as I sense a disturbance in the air, a subtle shift in the energy that surrounds me. Without conscious thought, I move to dodge yet quickly stop as the disruption fades instantly. The oddness of time and the disconnect between my soul and my senses are what make this so difficult.
Dammit.
So close.
Again, I wait, perpetually waiting for something to click.
And as space seems to distort, my weight somehow shifting, it does. I feel... something coming for me. I can't discern entirely what it is, but I transition my body to dodge, the whole thing moving nearly on its own. And unlike the other times, the sensation stays the whole time I move until I'm done sidestepping.
My senses return momentarily as excitement drives Tranquility to fall to the wayside, and I glimpse my surroundings. The training ground is illuminated in a hazy glow of blood that covers the dirt, and I can make out the silhouette of Edward. His expression is one of satisfaction mixed with surprise, a testament to the progress I've made.
Yet, he's not the one who is close to me. That's Dawn. Her hand reaches out to me, covered in warm Ether, while obvious shock contorts her face. To my right, I also find Earl smiling wide and pumping his fist into the air.
The Bloodied Beast's wife speaks with an exasperated sigh as she moves closer to me. I let her lay a hand on me as her Ether tunnels into my flesh and reconstructs it quickly.
"You really just managed a rudimentary Shiver when I came to heal you and stop you from falling? Insane. Absolutely insane."
I laugh as I look down at my wounds while Edward and Earl come closer. I'm fucked up bad. I can feel the weakness within me, but at the same time, I can feel my heart beating powerfully, Painsforge keeping me together even without my knowledge.
A great smile rips itself onto my countenance as I realize I finally mastered the skill. I can turn it on and off whenever I want by tightly clenching the winding ball of hurt in my chest. Of course, the more pain I'm in, the easier and more effortless the process is, but still. The progress is incredible.
Shiver is nearly at the starting floor that Painsforge was a while ago. Two Dzils? Ohoho. Yes.
While I sit here laughing to myself in my head, Edward knocks me down a peg.
"Good job, kid, but you're not done yet. You managed it once, but that doesn't mean it's reliable, and with your current mastery, I'd say it's less Shiver and more Dangersense, an Abbot Sigil skill. Another while of practice, and I think you could get it to that level without me. The only thing you need to be aware of is letting your Ether flow as it wants to. Don't force it."
I nod as my flesh continues to constitute, and my bone lengthens back to standard shape in my arms and ribs. Dawn is good, very good, but I suppose that's what one would expect from a 6th Sigiled medic. It's a much smoother regenerative process than that of the Bloody Palm. No pain, no hurt, only a warm and pleasant sensation that encompasses all of my wounds, which is virtually my whole body.
As Dawn does so, I can see her visibly get tired from the effort. While I feel bad, my emotions are quickly upturned by Earl stepping up to me and gritting his teeth to lift a duffle bag. The moment he gets close, however, I notice a sparkle in his right eye.
"Is that—"
Earl nods at my question pointed toward his face, then he opens the duffle bag at my feet, grabbing the item within. I somehow smile even more comprehensively as I see the silvery bronze that exits the cloth.
"An Ail? Yes. This one conjures lightning. Perfect for me, don't you think? I figured out that as long as I pour blood over the eye of a living or recently dead Angel, it won't take Vigor from me. So, it lets anyone with a decent amount of Ether control use one. The next step is to upgrade the Coil to handle the electricity this eye can put out. Ah, and here you are. The newest upgrade is a Freak. I was also torn between Trapper and Mentalist, but I figure it could use the toughness and strength most at the moment. Next will likely be Mentalist as Trapper will have little use without it."
Dawn steps back after Earl finishes his nearly minute-long rant that includes much more than I understood. I can only nod along as he puts the arm onto my side, gradually granting me its benefits. And when the spike at the shoulder connects to my body, I feel a warmth flow into me even greater than before. Blood flows back and forth with a more tremendous amount, likely the feat of the Freak.
Shifting my body backward as Dawn and Edward speak between themselves, I clench my fist, feeling the greater power hidden within my prosthetic fist than before. It's incredible the strength that Earl can put in these things.
However, some of that can be attributed to Eli as Earl studied many of the things he found in that laboratory.
"This... It's amazing! Thank you so much! I—"
"Don't worry about it. I'm just happy you're happy. And, now, you better be even better at kicking ass. Can't have you dying on me, okay?"
I nod again in thanks and promise not to die. Though, I don't think that's entirely on me. But as I talk to Earl, Edward calls out to me.
"We've got two days until the siege. Are you ready for your Sigil to advance? I heard from Johnny that you have a Philosopher. Luckily, a prisoner at Blacktail's Carmine Square has one. The bastard's been there a long, long time. If you want to go, we better leave today. Place is a few hour run, even with our speeds."
My heart hastens, each beat filled with the power of Painsforge. The idea of reaching the 6th Sigil is something I want dearly. Then, I'll be at the doorstep of becoming an Angel. Earl pats me on the shoulder before grabbing his duffel bag.
"You go do that, Wyatt. I'll see if I can come up with any tricks for the siege. Who knows. I might just matter more than you in it!"
I smile at the genius as he quickly shambles away, heading back to his workbenches on the train. And as he leaves, I take Edward's offer.
"I'm ready to go now!"
Dawn scoffs, and she immediately shuts me down.
"No, you're not, and neither are you, Edward. Go sleep. Then, you two can go."
Edward and I share a glance before we shrug. Dawn then leads us into the house just beside the training grounds. She guides me through the massive house, obviously meant for many more than just the two they have in their family, before depositing me at a guest bedroom and bathroom.
"There's a pump in the bath. Use it to fill up and clean yourself off. Then, sleep. I'll wake you both when I head to bed, and you can leave under the cover of night. It's best if no one knows you two are gone. Edward's presence keeps a lot of the peace between former gangs."
I nod and follow her directions, closing the door to the bedroom as I enter it. But damn, does the bed look good to sleep in. Sighing, I drag myself to the bathroom first.
Don't wanna make Dawn Dudley angry.
***********************
Earl 'Miraculous' Garner
I seat myself on a bench not far from Wyatt's still form. Looking down for a moment beside me, I see a glint of metal sticking out of the duffle bag with his arm in it. It's all ready to go with four Sigils in it. He just has to finish this training.
And dear Devil, is it awful.
For the past week, he has stood unwavering in the face of untold punishment and torture, all in the pursuit of mastering a skill that seems almost otherworldly. I know he can take it. I know he can. But still... It's bad. The Bloody Palm isn't even helping him with this one due to its hibernation. This is all Wyatt Graves' brand of stubbornness.
But it's needed. The skill that he's endeavoring to bear is legendary. The Dzil that let Edmund fight as if he was a 5th Sigil while a 3rd. The Dzil gave Edward the confidence to rebel.
Shiver, based on how Edward explained it to me at least, is a skill that will grant Wyatt the ability to evade danger without even needing to see it coming – a sixth sense of sorts forged from the depths of his soul. At higher levels of mastery, it will even activate whatever skills one may know to remove them from danger.
My gaze remains fixed on my friend, his form battered and bloodied from the relentless onslaught. He stands, his eyes tightly closed, the intensity of his focus etched into every line of his face. He's cut away all his senses, leaving nothing left to discern danger apart from his soul. Across from him is Edward, the only other living soul with this unique Dzil. He strides around Wyatt, taking only a few seconds in between short slashes and stabs toward the young man.
Most of the time, Edward pulls back before making contact, but not every time. If he did, then there would be no danger.
The week has been a relentless cycle of strikes without any evasion. It is opposite to most fights, which are dances of danger. It is simply a beating testing not only Wyatt's physical stamina but also his mental resilience. Edward said we do not have time for a second attempt to learn the skill for Wyatt. Soon, we have to attack Eli's compound before the Nahullo come. We recently killed their Viceroy, and the pale northerners are pretty vengeful. That's an understatement, though. They are the most vindictive of all races.
So this is the only chance Wyatt will get for a while, and possibly ever, to learn this Dzil from Edward. Seven straight days of torture. Blood covers the ground around Wyatt, and his clothes are torn in so many places I see more skin than cloth. And yet, my friend persists, driven by a determination that goes beyond mere stubbornness.
But throughout the seven days, it's not as if there has been zero progress. Every time Edward swings at him, only those that deal actual damage, I see slight shivers along Wyatt's body. A type of tremble that hints at something more significant.
I watch for almost an hour while Edward relays orders during his onslaught on Wyatt. Had this been any other figure, I'm confident they would have given up or died. But not my friendly Graves. As tough as artifacts, they are.
But as I observe, hoping silently that he succeeds soon, I find Dawn stepping up to Edward, exasperation in her very stride. The Bloodied Beast shifts his head to meet her as the man's arms are covered in the blood of Wyatt.
"You need to stop this, Edward. You're going to kill the kid. I know this is training, but this is too far. Seven days? He hasn't moved an inch! Take a break. Let him rest. We are sieging the compound on Monday, remember? Two days. Give him the two days to rest, and then he'll be fine for the fight."
My eyes flicker back and forth as I feel a need to say something, but Edward does it for me.
"He's close, Dawn. I can feel it. Those tiny shivers when I strike? He's so close—just a little more time. If we stop, he'll lose the feeling, and we'll have to do it all over again. But who knows when his artifact will evolve? It's now or never. The second that thing wakes up, he's never getting this skill."
Dawn scoffs and steps around Edward to be in between him and Wyatt while putting her arms out. The woman stops Edward for a moment with her actions.
"He's also close to death. Your medically trained past reading heartbeats and bandaging wounds. His limbs are infected. His bones are broken from the impacts. He has to be at a lethal level of blood loss. This boy won't handle enough to get this skill, Edward. Just... let him live. It's okay if he can't follow after you and Edmund. He's only a kid."
Watching the two, I find Edward pause, the Claymore of flowing blood in his hand sinking into the dirt as his head twists. I can see his face gnarl in indecision before finally shaking his head. The moment I notice his choice, I stand and walk over.
"Fine. You're right. I shouldn't risk his life over the skill. He can always try to learn it over the years. The Bloody Palm may make it more difficult, but that doesn't mean it will be impossible. It doesn't have to be now, even if now is the best time. Let me wake—"
"No. Continue. He can handle it."
I break into the conversation, standing beside Wyatt's still form. This close, I can see the injuries perfectly. The flesh is torn all over, and blood drips from every patch of skin on Wyatt, from his forehead to his fingers. But...
"Wyatt can't die."
Edward and Dawn stare at me weirdly, immediately voicing their thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want your friend to die? He's—"
I answer Dawn in the middle of her sentence, not wanting to wait in case the seconds of pause affect Wyatt's training.
"He can do this. I've seen him with far worse wounds. When I met him, he was thrice as injured and weighed half as much. I've seen him pull himself from immolation. I've seen him pull himself out of a stopped heart. I've seen him have his spine blown in half and still fight. Until he hits the ground and stops moving, Edward, he can't die."
Dawn's eyes grow sadder and more depressive as I speak, but I see that Edward finds his mettle. The Angel glances back and forth once more before hardening his gaze. He turns back to Wyatt and places a hand on Dawn's shoulder.
"Maybe Earl's right, honey. We are thinking through this as if he is an average human. He is a Graves. The legends of their family are not exaggerated as those of the Estates are. They do not need to be."
Dawn sighs, slapping her face lightly as she steps aside, relenting. But as she moves, the woman places a condition.
"The moment he trips or stumbles downward, this is over. I'll immediately heal him with my Ether."
I nod to this, and Edward does as well. The Bloodied Beast retrieves his Claymore from the dirt. While he does so, I move around to stand beside Dawn and observe the training.
"Come on, Wyatt. You got this. Just a little more."
***********************
Wyatt 'Wendigo' Graves
I stand somewhere in the training ground, all my senses deliberately muted by Tranquility. It's an odd sensation, existing in a detached and distant world. My ears pick up not even the faintest echoes of sounds; my eyes perceive a world shrouded in darkness, and even the sensation of touch seems muted and remote. Pain hardly exists but is the only reminder that I am still alive. Even time stretches and weaves oddly.
Which day is it? Has it even been another day? I don't know. But my focus refuses to waver as I feel another tiny lash of pain that hardly pierces through Tranquility.
I have been enduring this training for what feels like hours, though the passage of time is nebulous at best. The goal is to tap into a sixth sense, a connection to my soul that transcends the need for traditional reactions. Only then can Shiver genuinely shine. The skill is absurdly difficult, and even when I master this part of it, I won't be done. I'll simply be mostly there.
For, after sensing things with my soul, I still need to have that work in tandem with the Instinctual Ether. This whole skill requires a wide weaving of techniques that come together to create a fantastic Dzil. But that's precisely why I need it so badly.
As I stand here, I feel a vague sense of unease, an instinctual awareness that something is about to happen. This happens again and again, but time seems to flow in fits and starts, and I am left in a state of perpetual anticipation. Every fiber of my being is attuned to the energy around me, waiting for the slightest shift that might indicate danger.
My body tenses as I sense a disturbance in the air, a subtle shift in the energy that surrounds me. Without conscious thought, I move to dodge yet quickly stop as the disruption fades instantly. The oddness of time and the disconnect between my soul and my senses are what make this so difficult.
Dammit.
So close.
Again, I wait, perpetually waiting for something to click.
And as space seems to distort, my weight somehow shifting, it does. I feel... something coming for me. I can't discern entirely what it is, but I transition my body to dodge, the whole thing moving nearly on its own. And unlike the other times, the sensation stays the whole time I move until I'm done sidestepping.
My senses return momentarily as excitement drives Tranquility to fall to the wayside, and I glimpse my surroundings. The training ground is illuminated in a hazy glow of blood that covers the dirt, and I can make out the silhouette of Edward. His expression is one of satisfaction mixed with surprise, a testament to the progress I've made.
Yet, he's not the one who is close to me. That's Dawn. Her hand reaches out to me, covered in warm Ether, while obvious shock contorts her face. To my right, I also find Earl smiling wide and pumping his fist into the air.
The Bloodied Beast's wife speaks with an exasperated sigh as she moves closer to me. I let her lay a hand on me as her Ether tunnels into my flesh and reconstructs it quickly.
"You really just managed a rudimentary Shiver when I came to heal you and stop you from falling? Insane. Absolutely insane."
I laugh as I look down at my wounds while Edward and Earl come closer. I'm fucked up bad. I can feel the weakness within me, but at the same time, I can feel my heart beating powerfully, Painsforge keeping me together even without my knowledge.
A great smile rips itself onto my countenance as I realize I finally mastered the skill. I can turn it on and off whenever I want by tightly clenching the winding ball of hurt in my chest. Of course, the more pain I'm in, the easier and more effortless the process is, but still. The progress is incredible.
Shiver is nearly at the starting floor that Painsforge was a while ago. Two Dzils? Ohoho. Yes.
While I sit here laughing to myself in my head, Edward knocks me down a peg.
"Good job, kid, but you're not done yet. You managed it once, but that doesn't mean it's reliable, and with your current mastery, I'd say it's less Shiver and more Dangersense, an Abbot Sigil skill. Another while of practice, and I think you could get it to that level without me. The only thing you need to be aware of is letting your Ether flow as it wants to. Don't force it."
I nod as my flesh continues to constitute, and my bone lengthens back to standard shape in my arms and ribs. Dawn is good, very good, but I suppose that's what one would expect from a 6th Sigiled medic. It's a much smoother regenerative process than that of the Bloody Palm. No pain, no hurt, only a warm and pleasant sensation that encompasses all of my wounds, which is virtually my whole body.
As Dawn does so, I can see her visibly get tired from the effort. While I feel bad, my emotions are quickly upturned by Earl stepping up to me and gritting his teeth to lift a duffle bag. The moment he gets close, however, I notice a sparkle in his right eye.
"Is that—"
Earl nods at my question pointed toward his face, then he opens the duffle bag at my feet, grabbing the item within. I somehow smile even more comprehensively as I see the silvery bronze that exits the cloth.
"An Ail? Yes. This one conjures lightning. Perfect for me, don't you think? I figured out that as long as I pour blood over the eye of a living or recently dead Angel, it won't take Vigor from me. So, it lets anyone with a decent amount of Ether control use one. The next step is to upgrade the Coil to handle the electricity this eye can put out. Ah, and here you are. The newest upgrade is a Freak. I was also torn between Trapper and Mentalist, but I figure it could use the toughness and strength most at the moment. Next will likely be Mentalist as Trapper will have little use without it."
Dawn steps back after Earl finishes his nearly minute-long rant that includes much more than I understood. I can only nod along as he puts the arm onto my side, gradually granting me its benefits. And when the spike at the shoulder connects to my body, I feel a warmth flow into me even greater than before. Blood flows back and forth with a more tremendous amount, likely the feat of the Freak.
Shifting my body backward as Dawn and Edward speak between themselves, I clench my fist, feeling the greater power hidden within my prosthetic fist than before. It's incredible the strength that Earl can put in these things.
However, some of that can be attributed to Eli as Earl studied many of the things he found in that laboratory.
"This... It's amazing! Thank you so much! I—"
"Don't worry about it. I'm just happy you're happy. And, now, you better be even better at kicking ass. Can't have you dying on me, okay?"
I nod again in thanks and promise not to die. Though, I don't think that's entirely on me. But as I talk to Earl, Edward calls out to me.
"We've got two days until the siege. Are you ready for your Sigil to advance? I heard from Johnny that you have a Philosopher. Luckily, a prisoner at Blacktail's Carmine Square has one. The bastard's been there a long, long time. If you want to go, we better leave today. Place is a few hour run, even with our speeds."
My heart hastens, each beat filled with the power of Painsforge. The idea of reaching the 6th Sigil is something I want dearly. Then, I'll be at the doorstep of becoming an Angel. Earl pats me on the shoulder before grabbing his duffel bag.
"You go do that, Wyatt. I'll see if I can come up with any tricks for the siege. Who knows. I might just matter more than you in it!"
I smile at the genius as he quickly shambles away, heading back to his workbenches on the train. And as he leaves, I take Edward's offer.
"I'm ready to go now!"
Dawn scoffs, and she immediately shuts me down.
"No, you're not, and neither are you, Edward. Go sleep. Then, you two can go."
Edward and I share a glance before we shrug. Dawn then leads us into the house just beside the training grounds. She guides me through the massive house, obviously meant for many more than just the two they have in their family, before depositing me at a guest bedroom and bathroom.
"There's a pump in the bath. Use it to fill up and clean yourself off. Then, sleep. I'll wake you both when I head to bed, and you can leave under the cover of night. It's best if no one knows you two are gone. Edward's presence keeps a lot of the peace between former gangs."
I nod and follow her directions, closing the door to the bedroom as I enter it. But damn, does the bed look good to sleep in. Sighing, I drag myself to the bathroom first.
Don't wanna make Dawn Dudley angry.
