Uninvited (Uninvited, #1)(61)

“What’s your name?” he asks her mildly. “Bet you’re pretty when your face isn’t so banged up.”

“Sabine,” she answers softly, ducking her head. Her hair falls in a brown curtain, shadowing her face. I look from her to him, concern for the smaller girl surging inside me. He glances at me, a disturbing smile curving his lips and I know he knows. He reads me easily, knows that I feel protective toward her.

I once saw a show on a nature channel about portia spiders. They’re one of the world’s top predators. Spiders generally are, but this spider . . . this particular one is the most dangerous of all because it actually targets other spiders, cleverly tricking them. It identifies each individual spider’s weakness and then implements the best method to attack the prey it hunts. Yeah, they’re that smart and diabolical. They’re him. Jackson. I know it instinctively. Hopefully, that makes me decidedly unlike the spiders that get tricked and devoured.

He refocuses on Sabine and clucks his tongue. “That lip looks like it hurts,” he murmurs in a deceptively sympathetic voice.

Sabine touches the deep crack in her lip self-consciously.

“Aren’t you Captain Obvious?” I snap, deliberately drawing his attention back to me.

He studies me, that smile still there. “We should all be friends. Hang out tonight during communal time. I bet I could make you both like me,” he adds with a wink.

It’s his choice of words—the “make you” part that leaves me slightly queasy.

“I don’t think so.”

A tray drops on the table so abruptly that I jump in my seat. And I hate that I jump. That I come across so . . . affected and on edge here when I most need to appear calm. Natural amid predators. A predator myself.

Because acting the opposite would mean that I’m the prey.

“What’s up?” Sean’s voice rings out.

I look hard at Sean, just so glad he’s here. Something flutters inside me as he tosses the sun-streaked hair back from his face and sweeps his gaze over everyone, his eyes inscrutable but no less penetrating.

He acts like everything is ordinary. As though he sits at this table every day. Like Mount Haven is nothing new. He pops the top on a can of peach juice and takes a long swig. I watch, mesmerized at the play of muscles in his throat.

“Friend of yours?” Jackson asks, and there’s something in his voice, a guardedness that wasn’t there before.

“Yes,” I say.

Sean sets his can down and levels his gaze on Jackson and Tully. He looks imposing, his shoulders pushing against the fabric of his T-shirt. I scan him, admiring the cut of his biceps. The intricate tattoo pattern spiraling over sinew and muscle. He’s no Gil. They can’t dismiss him. There’s nothing soft about him. Dead eyes. Flat, cold. He’s the boy I first saw in Pollock’s office. This glimpse of him now brings that all back. He scared me then.

The silence lengthens. Jackson and Tully stare back at Sean, unblinking. Tension lines their shoulders and thickens in the air.

Gil speaks up. “We all came here together.”

“Nice,” Jackson murmurs. “To come here with friends.” His gaze shifts, lingering on me. “Comforting.”

“Yeah.” Reaching for my plate, Sean lifts a slice of bacon off it. The action is familiar. Deliberate. It says we’re together. Friends. Maybe more than that. Untrue, of course. He made that clear when I visited him at his house and he sent me home. That rejection still stings when I think on it. We’ll never be more.

Leaning back in his chair, he tears a bite with his strong teeth. “It is nice.”

No one says anything else for the remainder of the meal. I force down food and cast surreptitious glances at my table-mates. Jackson does the same, taking turns looking at me, Sabine, Sean, and Gil.

“Five minutes, people!” one of the instructors shouts.

Relief ripples through me.

Jackson and Tully shovel in several more bites and hastily rise, taking their trays with them.

Sean follows their retreat with narrowed eyes before sliding me a look. Emotion sparks in his eyes. I’m reassured to see his dead stare gone. “You need to keep a low profile.”

“Like that’s possible. I’m one of seven girls here.”

“You were a bit antagonistic,” Gil points out.

I glare at him. “What am I supposed to do? Just roll over for him?”

“You saw him.” Gil jerks his head in the direction Jackson left. “He got his rocks off every time you mouthed off to him.”

Heat scalds my face because he’s right.

Sean looks at me intently. “I can’t be here every minute.”

Meaning he can’t be here every minute for me. And that infuriates me. “I don’t need you to be.” I start flinging trash onto my tray.

“Davy.” His hand snatches hold of mine. I feel the hard imprint of each finger on my flesh. “We need each other.”

“Do we?” It sounds as though he thinks I just need him. Pain tightens my chest as I realize just how much I want him to need me.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sabine whispers. “Nothing can protect us in here.”

I pull my hand from Sean and gently squeeze Sabine’s shoulder, so slight and delicate beneath my hand. “Hey. We’re getting trained in here. They don’t want us to hurt each other. We’ll make it through this,” I vow.