Scions

DELLA

Both Tenn and Raziel jump forward, shouting things that make even less sense than me being whatever a Scion is.

“We need to hide her!” Raziel exclaims.

“~Are you fucking kidding me?~” Tenn shouts with enough venom to make me wince.

“ENOUGH!” Azreal booms, shocking the room into silence. Both men sit down on either side of me, and I find myself leaning away from Tenn.

“Delaney, do you know what a Scion is?” Azreal asks me, softening his voice.

“Um, no. Not a clue,” I answer.

“A Scion is the offspring of a celestial and a supernatural. They are very powerful beings and are highly sought after,” he explains.

Tenn snorts in derision. “That’s one way to put it,” he mutters.

“As such, we need to keep you safe. This information is to be kept confidential, am I understood?” Azreal insists, a hint of sternness creeping back into his voice.

“I still don’t really know what’s going on,” I admit.

“Scions are extremely rare. The celestials—as in Life, Death, God, Satan, War, Famine, Love, et cetera—don’t reproduce often. However, when they do, they produce very powerful offspring. Solomon Academy was actually founded by a Scion. A Dreamscaper.”

~Lies~, whispers a voice in my head.

“She died not long after. She is actually buried on site. You may have noticed her pictured in the windows of the atrium,” he explains. His voice is neutral, as if he’s only trying to be informative, but there’s a tightness around his eyes, and he keeps glancing at a picture frame on his desk.

“Who was the last Scion?” I ask.

“A man named Karl Sigmund. A Spirit Walker.”

“Are there different kinds of Scions?”

“Yes, depending on which celestial and what type of supe the parents are, there can be many outcomes,” Tenn says, scowling at the headmaster.

“You being a demon narrows down the results quite a bit, though,” Raziel explains. “Thankfully we won’t have to worry about you being a blood mage,” he says with a shiver.

“So, some types of Scions are bad?”

“Well, not bad per se,” Azreal explains.

“Dangerous if left unchecked,” Tenn grumbles.

“Oh.” Does he mean Scions like me? Will I have to be kept in check? I mean, I have killed people before. I fight off the memories that try to overtake me. Yeah, it would make sense to keep me in check, no matter how much the idea makes my skin crawl.

Azreal’s voice breaks through my thoughts as he explains, “Blood mages in particular have a bad rap. They use blood as a weapon, and some of history’s most infamous serial killers were actually blood mages.” Okay, yeah, I get how that would tarnish people’s perceptions of Scions.

“Do we know what kind I am?” I ask.

“No. Unfortunately.” Azreal frowns, but that tightness around his eyes is back, and I know it’s a lie before that little whisper in my head tells me it is. Huh.

“I would also warn you about the consorts many of the Scions have attained in the past,” Azreal says, changing the subject. I notice that he can’t meet my eyes as he speaks.

“Consorts?” Like the Queen?

“Oh, Azreal, don’t do that to the poor girl now. Let me handle that topic in private,” Zeve chides him with a sweet smile.

“Please do.” He nods gratefully. “Gentlemen? Shall we give the ladies the room?”

They all stand and move to the door. Dr. Tenn looks angry about something, but I don’t know what. His aura is all over the place and I can never tell what he might be thinking. Raziel is watching Zeve like a hawk, but both men are being pushed out by the headmaster before they can say anything.

Can’t lie. I think I like the headmaster. He’s pretty cool.

As soon as the door shuts, Zeve takes Raziel’s old seat and smiles warmly at me.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here, where you belong. I spent years worried that you weren’t safe and that I would never see you again,” Zeve admits.

“Oh. Well, I’m okay now,” I say evasively.

Thankfully, she seems to take the hint and changes the subject. “Okay, back to business. Now, I know what you are, but you need to keep it to yourself. Understand? This is very important. If the wrong people find out, it could end very badly for you,” she explains, flicking her eyes to the door. Does she mean Tenn and Raziel? Shit.

“I understand.”

“Good.” She nods and leans toward me, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “You’re a Sin-Eater. There have only ever been two recorded in history, so there’s not a lot of information on them specifically, but there is some,” she explains. “You should also know the real story of how Solomon Academy was built.”

Zeve’s eyes dart toward the door again before she continues, “It’s true that the Scion is buried on the property, but it’s her soul’s energy that built this place, not her. Her uncle locked her up as a young child and siphoned her magic, using her up like a battery to form the barrier around the school. This place was built at the cost of her life.”

“Oh fuck,” I whisper in horror.

“Yeah. I know. This is the kind of danger we wanted to protect you from when we sent you away. There are very powerful people who will want to use you, just like that poor girl’s uncle used her.” She pauses for a moment, and I can tell she’s hoping for something. Forgiveness, maybe? Or understanding? I’m not ready to cross that bridge yet.

I don’t know what to say, so I just nod for her to continue.

“One very important thing we know about Scions is that you all have a sort of psychic ability. It’s usually a little voice in your head or an insistent gut instinct. Listen to it. It will keep you alive,” she pleads.

“I always do,” I assure her.

“Good. Now, consorts. A Scion needs to bond romantically with more than one consort for protection and grounding. Once you’ve met someone destined to become your consort, you should both feel a natural magnetism drawing you together. Scions attract all kinds of people, both good and bad, and that can leave them vulnerable. Your consorts are there to keep you safe and happy. Do you understand?”

“I don’t think so,” I mutter just as the image of my red string flashes through my mind.

“So, you know how humans have the idea of soulmates? One person meant for them. Well, Scions have more than one. I believe Karl Sigmund had five,” Zeve explains.

Jesus, Mary, and Steve. Five boyfriends?! What does a girl do with that many men?!

She gives me a gentle smile. “I can tell you’re freaking out, but it’s going to be okay. I’m here. Your father will be back soon. Azreal has always had our backs. You’re not alone…not anymore,” she assures me, taking my hands in hers. “I know we’re late, but we are here now.”

“Thank you. I just… This is a lot of information.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart, and in a perfect world I wouldn’t dump it all on you at once. But now that you’re a part of this world, you need to know all of this so we can keep you safe.”

“I get it. I don’t blame you or anything. I’m just having a hard time processing it all,” I explain.

“That is completely understandable. Okay, let’s get you back to that punisher and send you off to bed. Take a hot bath and let yourself cry or do whatever you need to do to come to terms with all this,” she advises.

That sounds like such a good idea. I nod dumbly as she places a black business card in my hand.

“Call me. If you need anything or if you just want to talk. I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” She smiles softly at me, and I’m not quite sure what to do with it. I mean, yeah, she’s my mom, but I don’t know her very well. Still, she’s helping me a lot more than the woman I used to call mother ever did. God, my head hurts.

As we exit the office, I see Kade sitting on the bench and playing a game on his phone. Unfortunately, I also see Dr. Tenn pacing back and forth. That is, until he sees me.

“Are you okay?” he demands, marching over to me.

My brain takes a second to register the question. He seems angry, and I don’t understand why he’s asking that. “Uh…,” I stammer as he grips my arms and leans down to get a better look at me. Fuck, why does he have to be so handsome? His normally perfectly styled hair is a complete mess. Even his tie is loosened and wrinkled. The whole look is really working for him.

Before I can answer him, he notices his hands on me and immediately lets go. He even wipes his hands on his suit, as if he touched something disgusting. What an asshole.

“Sorry,” he mutters, but I just walk away from him. I’m so done with tonight.

Thankfully, Kade is already up and waiting for me. With a last thank you and goodbye to Zeve, we head back through the halls.

“~Are~ you okay?” Kade asks.

“I don’t know,” I admit, and he takes my hand. I feel a lot better with just that gesture. Like he’s anchoring me so I don’t float away on the riptide of emotions churning inside me. What can I tell him? Not much.

“I met my mom. Found out why I was adopted.” Kind of adopted.

“Shit.” Kade frowns.

“Yup.”

“I can tell there’s something else, but I won’t ask. I am here, though,” he says, squeezing my hand gently.

“Thanks. I just need to get it all sorted out up here. Ya know?” I tap my temple.

“Yeah, I know,” he says softly.

I notice we’re already at the gargoyles. Both of them come forward to greet me, nuzzling into my sides as if they’re trying to comfort me.

“Game back on?” I offer.

“Oh, yeah. I’ll definitely catch you tomorrow, babe.” He gives me a wide grin before turning and walking back down the hall.

I find myself smiling like a lovesick schoolgirl as I make my way to my room. I guess I am a schoolgirl now. Huh.

I flick on the shower and do exactly as Zeve suggested. I let go. All the emotions I’d been holding back crash into me, and I start to cry. Big hiccupping sobs wrack my body as I stand under the hot spray of water. What am I going to do?