Half-Blood (Covenant 1)

“Alex, what happened to your mother is not your fault.

Placing that kind of guilt on yourself wil only hinder you. It wil get you nowhere. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

Even though I wanted to believe what Aiden said was true, I knew it wasn’t. If I’d contacted the Covenant, Mom would stil be alive. So yeah, in a way, Lea was right.

I was responsible for my mother’s death.

CHAPTER 5

THE FOLLOWING DAY WAS LIKE GOING BACK IN

TIME for me—up way too early to think straight and wearing clothes made to get my butt kicked in. This time around though, there were a few things different.

Looking at Aiden, for example, it was clear he wasn’t going to be like the Instructors I’d had before. They’d been Sentinels or Guards injured on the job, or the ones who’d wanted to settle down. Back then, I’d always ended up with Instructors who were either old as dirt or flat out boring.

Aiden was neither of those things.

He wore the same style of workout pants I’d stolen from the supply closet, but where I wore a modest white shirt, he had on a tank. And boy, did he have arms to show off. His skin didn’t sag; he was far from boring, and he was actual y out there hunting daimons.

But he did have one thing in common with my old Instructors. The moment I walked into the gym, he was al business. From the way he coached me through several warm-up exercises and ordered me to unrol al the mats, I knew I was going to be hurting by the end of the day.

“How much do you remember from your previous training?”

I looked around, seeing things I hadn’t laid eyes on in three years—training mats to ease fal s, dummies with skin that felt real, and a first aid kit in every corner. People usual y bled at some point in training. But the furthest wal interested me the most. It was covered with wicked-looking knives I’d never gotten to practice with.

“The normal things: textbook stuff, offensive training, kicking and punching techniques.” I made a beeline for the weapon wal ; it was like compulsion.

“Not much then.”

Picking up one of the slender titanium daggers the Sentinels usual y carried, I nodded. “The good stuff started just—”

Aiden reached around me, plucking the dagger from my fingers and placing it back on the wal . His fingers lingered over the blade reverently. “You haven’t earned the right to touch these weapons, especial y that one.”

At first, I thought he was teasing, but one look at his face told me he wasn’t. “Why?”

He didn’t answer.

I kind of wanted to touch it again, but I pul ed my hand back and walked away from the wal . “I was good at everything I learned. I could hit and kick hard. I could run faster than anyone in my class.”

He returned to the center of the room and placed his hands on his narrow hips. “Not much then,” he repeated.

My eyes fol owed him. “You could say that.”

“You should get used to this room. We’l be spending eight hours a day in here.”

“You’re joking, right?”

He didn’t look like he was joking. “Down the hal is a gym.

You should visit it… often.”

My mouth dropped open.

Aiden gave me a bland look. “You’re far too skinny. You need to put some weight on and some muscle.” He reached out and tapped my scrawny arm. “Speed and strength, you have natural y. But right now, a ten-year-old could take you on.”

I closed my mouth. He had a point. This morning, I’d had to tie the knot twice in my drawstrings to get them to stay up. “Wel , it wasn’t like I had three square meals a day.

Speaking of which, I’m kinda hungry. Don’t I get breakfast?”

The hard look in his eyes softened a little, and for a moment he looked like he had when he’d been in my room the night before. “I brought you a protein shake.”

“Ew,” I groaned, but when he picked up the plastic container and handed it to me, I took it.

“Drink up. We’re going to cover some ground rules first.”

Aiden stepped back. “Go ahead and sit. I want you to listen.”

And there went the softer and kinder look. Rol ing my eyes, I sat down and gingerly placed the bottle to my lips. It smel ed like stale chocolate and tasted like a watered down milkshake. Gross.

He stood in front of me with those impossibly ripped arms across his chest. “First off: no drinking or smoking.”

“Gee. That means I’ve got to kick the crack habit.”

He stared down at me, clearly unimpressed. “You wil not be able to leave the Covenant without permission or—don’t look at me that way.”

“Jeez, how old are you?” I total y knew how old he was, but I wanted to pick.

Aiden cracked his neck. “I turn twenty-one in October.”

“Huh.” I shook the bottle. “So have you always been so…

mature?”

His brows furrowed. “Mature?”

“Yeah, you sound like a dad.” I deepened my voice and tried to look stern. “‘Don’t look at me that way’ or else.”

Aiden blinked slowly. “I don’t sound like that and I didn’t say ‘or else.’”

“But if you had, what would the ‘or else’ be?” I hid my grin with the bottle.

He glanced to the side, frowning. “Can you just not talk through this?”

“Whatever.” I took a drink. “So why can’t I leave the island?”

“It’s for your safety and my peace of mind.” Aiden returned to his original stance, arms over chest, legs spread wide. “You wil not leave this island without being accompanied by someone.”

“Do my friends count?” I asked, only half serious.

“No.”

“Then who’s al owed to accompany me?”

Aiden’s eyes closed and he sighed. “Either me or one of the other Instructors.”

I swished the liquid around in the bottle. “I know the rules, Aiden. You don’t have to go over them again.”

He looked like he wanted to point out the fact I could probably use a refresher, but he relented. After I was done, he took the shake and walked it back over to where several punching bags were propped against the wal .

I stood and stretched. “So, what am I learning today? I think we should start with anything that doesn’t involve you kicking my ass.”

His lips twitched as if he was fighting a grin. “The basics.”

“The basics.” I pouted. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I know the basics.”

“You know enough to not get yourself kil ed right away.”

He frowned as I jumped from side to side. “What are you doing?”

I stopped, shrugging. “I’m bored.”

Aiden rol ed his eyes. “Then let’s get started. You won’t be bored for very long.”

“Yes, master.”

He scowled. “Don’t cal me that. I’m not your master. Only the gods can be cal ed our masters.”

“Yes… ” I paused as his eyes glinted and his jaw tightened, “sir.”

Aiden stared at me a moment, and then nodded. “Okay. I want to see how you take a fal .”

“I almost got one good hit on you in the factory.” I felt the need to point that out.

Turning to me, he motioned toward one of the mats.

“Almost doesn’t count, Alex. It never counts.”

I dragged myself over and stopped in front of him as he circled me. “Daimons not only use their strength when they attack, but also elemental magic.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Daimons could be ridiculously strong depending on how many pures or halfs they’ve drained. Being hit by one of them using the air element was tantamount to getting hit by a freight train. The only time daimons weren’t dangerous was when they were draining aether.

“The key is to never let them get you on the ground, but it wil happen, even to the best of us. When it does happen, you need to be able to get back up.” His gray eyes focused on me.

This was boring. “Aiden, I do remember my training. I know how to take a fal .”

“Do you?”

“Taking a fal is the easiest—”

My back slammed into the mat. Pain shot through me. I lay there stunned.

Aiden loomed over me. “That was just a love tap, and you didn’t land correctly at al .”

“Ow.” I wasn’t sure I could move.

“You should’ve landed on your upper back. It’s less painful and easier to maneuver out of.” He offered his hand.

“I thought you knew how to take a fal ?”

“Gods,” I snapped. “You couldn’t have told me first?” I ignored his hand and found I could move. I stood, glaring at him.

A lopsided smile formed on his lips. “Even without a warning, you have a second before you fal . You have more than enough time to position your body correctly.”

“Rol the hips and keep your chin down.” I scowled, rubbing my back. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Then show me.” He stopped, eyeing me like I was some kind of weird specimen. “Put your arms up—here. Like this.” He positioned my arms so they blocked my chest.

“Keep them strong. No spaghetti arms.”

“Okay.”

He grimaced at my spindly arms. “Wel , keep them as strong as you can.”

“Hardy har har.”

He grinned again. “Al right.”

Then he hit my arms with the broad side of his. In truth, he didn’t hit me hard, but I stil fel . And it was the wrong way. I rol ed over, wincing.

“Alex, you know what to do.”

I rol ed over and groaned. “Wel … apparently it’s something I’ve forgotten.”

“Get up.” He offered his hand, but I stil didn’t take it. I stood. “Put your arms up.”

I did and braced myself for the inevitable smack. Down I went, over and over again. I spent the next couple of hours on my back, and not in the good way. It got to the point Aiden went through the mechanics of landing as if I were ten.

But final y, out of the useless crap floating around my brain, I pul ed out the technique I’d been taught ages ago and I nailed it.

“About time,” Aiden muttered.

We broke for lunch, which consisted of me eating alone while Aiden went off to do whatever. About fifteen minutes in, a pure-blood in a white lab coat appeared in front of me.

I swal owed the mouthful of food. “Hi?”

“Please fol ow me,” she said.

I glanced down at my half-eaten sub and sighed. I dumped my plate and fol owed the pure to the med building behind the training facilities. “Am I getting a physical or something?”

She didn’t answer.

Any attempt of conversation was ignored and I gave up by the time I hopped up on the table. I watched her go to the cabinet and root around for a few seconds. She turned around, flicking the end of the syringe.

My eyes widened. “Uh … what is that?”

“Please lift up the sleeve of your shirt.”

Wary, I did as instructed. “But what are you giving me