I scraped my knees while I was praying
And found a demon in my safest haven
Seems like it's getting harder to believe in anything
Than just to get lost in all my selfish thoughts…
Mercedes sat on Sam's bed and stared at Quinn as the teen mother tried to prevent herself from hyperventilating. It was funny, even while choking for air Quinn was still beautiful. Mercedes didn't know how she managed it, considering the girl could be downright ugly.
Mercedes felt weird, sitting there completely fine while Quinn was laboring for breath. She didn't like it. As much as Mercedes couldn't stand her, she didn't want to see Quinn suffer like this. Mercedes didn't want her to be locked in a room, scared for her life and practically choking to death. If not for herself, then because she knew that right now Damien was feeling a wicked pull within himself to come to Quinn.
She shifted on her feet one more time before deciding enough was enough. "I'll be right back." She said softly.
Why Mercedes bothered saying anything when she knew that Quinn wasn't paying attention was beyond her.
It took a couple of minutes for Mercedes to find it again, but she knew that Sam had a mini fridge in his room. Mercedes took out a bottle of water and got a towel from the bathroom before returning to Quinn, who was now red in the face. Christ.
Mercedes rushed over to Quinn and wiped the tears from her cheeks and the slobber away from her mouth. She patted her on the back forcefully a few times before Quinn gasped and inhaled loudly.
"There you go," Mercedes said encouragingly as she sucked in air, handing her the bottle of water, "Here, drink this."
Quinn nodded and drank meticulously, one sip after another. They sat like that on Sam's bed—the same one that Mercedes had just been crying on a couple of hours ago—and waited quietly as Quinn recovered.
Mercedes waited on the inevitable questions Quinn would ask, even though she thought that Damien had already covered this part—but of course not. Of course Damien was too caught up in gazing into Quinn's eyes, or thinking of all the people they could insult simultaneously, or whatever. Whatever he was doing with Quinn, it wasn't what he should have been doing.
And it seemed completely hypocritical coming from Mercedes, the girl who practically let her Promise claim her in front of the student body, except it was different because that came after Sam's explanation. After Damien's clarification. They waited as best as they could before completely diving into each other every chance they got. Granted, Damien and Quinn hadn't had nearly the amount of time together that she and Sam got, but it didn't matter. Damien knew what he was getting into; he should have taken precautions. If nothing else, he could've been cryptic about it and warned Quinn.
It was Damien's story to tell, not hers. Plus, the last time she went down this road her reaction was worse than Quinn's. Throw that in with the fact that she and Quinn weren't on good terms, and it was a recipe for disaster. But in spite of it all, here they were. And of all people, Mercedes was the one that was going to have to tell Quinn everything—something that she truly had no right to do.
"What the—the hell—was that downstairs?"
Ease her in or throw her in?
"Um…" Mercedes started, smoothly as possible. As smoothly as she was capable of, at least. "What do you think just happened downstairs?"
Quinn side eyed Mercedes in response. She shrugged.
Glare at me all you want, I don't care anymore.
"I don't know," Quinn replied honestly after staring at a spot on Sam's bed, "It felt like…like an earthquake. But…I know it wasn't. It was strange."
Mercedes was still not sure how to break the news to her. "Hmm. Has Damien said anything to you about tonight's dinner at all?"
Quinn gave Mercedes a quizzical look.
"I mean," Mercedes clarified, "Like did he say anything about Elites?"
"Elites? Elite what? What are you talking about?"
"So," Mercedes tried again, "Damien hasn't said anything specifically about the Elites at tonight's dinner in the last 24 hours?"
"No." She shook her head, "Well he did mention something about having dinner with Elite people. So?"
"They're not just Elite people. He meant that they're special. Like…really, really special."
Quinn looked at her. "You're not making any sense."
Mercedes sighed and reminded herself, for what could've been the billionth time, that she really did not want to be having this conversation with Quinn. She was entirely the wrong person to be giving Quinn this talk. And if she was being honest, Mercedes wasn't making much sense to herself either.
"I don't know if you haven't noticed this already, but Quinn, Damien and Sam are…unique."
"I've noticed," Quinn admitted, something flashing in her eyes, "Those two. They're different from the other guys in Lima. More…intense?" She looked confused again, as if searching for the right words.
"I've never felt this way around Damien or Sam though. Ever." Quinn went on, reasoning with herself, "So those people downstairs are different from how Damien and Sam are different."
Quinn was more perceptive than Mercedes had given her credit for.
"Are you trying to tell me that those people downstairs caused the tremor that shook the whole house?" She finished.
Mercedes nodded and hummed in agreement.
"Seriously?" Quinn asked, her voice a high pitched squeak of disbelief, "But how?"
"That," Mercedes replied,"I can't tell you. I think it has something to do with their…aura or energy or something. You'd have to ask Damien about that one."
Her face twisted up in suspicion. "So you mean to tell me that Damien, Sam, and those—those people downstairs are not—they're not human?"
"Um…yes."
"Are you joking?"
"Do you think I'm joking?" She asked, without being sarcastic about it. Because honestly, it was a lot to take in.
Quinn didn't say anything and it was silent for a moment.
"That's bullshit and I don't believe you," Quinn decided. "You're just trying to stir the pot. Like you did when you ran back to your boyfriend —or fuck buddy, or whatever he is to you—and tried to make me look bad."
Mercedes squashed the ugly comment she could feel bubbling up in her throat. "I'm not doing this with you Quinn. I'm telling you what is up, not stirring the pot. Because I don't have time to be messy, unlike you. And you're the one who's bullshitting. You believe what I'm saying; you just don't want to believe me. Deep down, you know that those guests aren't normal. That's why you almost hyperventilated."
"I almost hyperventilated because it felt like a massive earthquake was happening!" Quinn exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation.
Mercedes scoffed, rolling her eyes. I'm sick of this. "At this point, I don't care what you think happened Quinn. This is the reality of the situation: Those people downstairs are inhuman and dangerous, and if you didn't believe me this morning when I said that you needed to trust us—this is your last chance. You have to now, because if you don't you're fucked. Those people could kill us all and there's nothing you can say to stop that."
After several moments of silence spent staring each other down, Quinn sighed. "I…I need to talk Damien."
"I think this is the first time I agree with you."
After their little dispute, it took them ten minutes to get back to safe footing in their conversation. At least what Mercedes considered was safe footing, until Quinn started talking about Sam again.
"I need to know something." Quinn started, looking at Mercedes.
Mercedes nodded, preparing herself for a question about the Elites. "Okay."
What she wasn't prepared for was the next sentence that came out of Quinn's mouth.
"Have you and Sam slept together?"
"What?"
"Have you and Sam slept together," Quinn repeated, "Because after that little stunt I saw you two pulling this morning I couldn't help but wonder if you two have had sex yet."
Mercedes scoffed, gawking at Quinn in disbelief. How could she possibly care about that at a time like this?
"Sam and I have been together for less than a week." She said flatly.
"I didn't ask how long you've been dating him, I asked if you two fucked or not."
If this were any other time, Mercedes would've been offended. But right now, wheels were starting to turn in her head. "Why do you even care? Are you trying to accuse me of something?"
Is she asking if we had sex with each other while they were dating?
"Sam was with me for almost a month and after he started to notice you, he dropped me like I didn't mean anything." She explained, "It just seemed a bit odd to me that he could give up on us so easily and go so hard for you in three days. But it wouldn't if he was getting something from you beforehand."
Mercedes looked up at the ceiling, begging God for patience. So much for trying to be civil with each other.
"You're wrong about a lot of things Quinn. First, Sam did not drop you for me. You dropped him because of me. Second, he didn't give up on you, you gave up on him."
Quinn opened her mouth to butt in but Mercedes held up her hand to stop her.
"You dumped Sam, not the other way around." She went on, "And I don't know why you're always making it seem like that's not what happened. Third, Sam did not cheat on you and we didn't slept together while you two were dating. I didn't coax Sam out of a relationship by bribing him with sex. You're wrong about Sam and you're wrong about me. I don't have time to be chasing a man, especially if he's in a relationship with somebody else. I'm not the other woman. I never was."
Quinn huffed, looking away again. "Yeah right."
Mercedes shrugged, because quite frankly she didn't care. Not at this point. She had other things to worry about besides Quinn and her accusations.
Damien materialized in the room three minutes later, startling Mercedes and scaring the shit out of Quinn, whose fingers started digging into the bedspread. While Quinn tried to get her breathing under control again as she panted, Mercedes observed Damien.
Damien looked stressed out and very, very, tired. His eyes darted between the two Promises, as if searching for physical injuries. He also looked a bit angry. She wondered if Sam looked the same way, or worse. This was their fault after all, and that only meant that Sam would try and shoulder the blame. He internalized everything he was feeling, even around her.
Mercedes locked eyes with Damien, questioning him with her eyes. She didn't dare open her mouth and say anything about those Elites lurking downstairs. Mercedes knew they would be able to hear whatever she wanted to say. Damien stared at her for a moment before nodding his head.
He walked over to them and grabbed her and Quinn's arm, shimmering into the black mist that protected her not too long ago.
Above whatever realm or reverie Damien had just descended them into, Mercedes could tell that Quinn was beyond freaking out. She sat next to Mercedes, froze in amazement. Damien spoke to them then, or whatever he was doing. She felt and heard the words spoken to her, coming somewhere from behind her left ear.
I'm going to take you two downstairs now. The others are waiting and they…they would like to meet you Mercedes.
All at once she was overcome by terror. She didn't want to meet any of them. She didn't to talk to anyone. She didn't want any of this. Her fingers dug into her palms so she wouldn't faint. Again, Mercedes' thoughts turned to Sam and she wondered how he must have been dealing with it. He was probably sick with worry, concerned to the point of madness. And exactly how was the conversation going downstairs?
She wasn't inhuman like Damien, so she couldn't think her thoughts to him—but she had to know. She couldn't go to those people without having some insight.
"Damien," She whispered harshly, practically shaking from her apprehension, "How is it? Sam—"
Stop talking. Damien answered, his very presence reverberating in her ears. The feeling stunned her into silence.
Samuel is fine. However the others, they're—it's…I don't know. They're not bad, and I have yet to see them show me otherwise, but I don't know. I can trust them to help keep Quinn and you safe, because there's something in it for them. They want the same thing I wanted. Beyond that, I don't trust them.
Mercedes nodded. That meant those other Elites wanted their Promises. Did they expect Sam to go retrieve them? She prayed not. How would Sam have time to strategize and get ready for war if he was running all over the place, searching for someone else's lover?
Quinn, I know you're probably scared as shit right now and confused. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you…what I am. I'm sorry that you have to deal with any of this. I don't want you to but I don't get to make that decision. Please, when we get downstairs don't draw any attention to yourself…
Mercedes stopped listening and tried tuning Damien out. She didn't want to intrude on this part of the conversation that should've been private.
It didn't matter anyway. The Elites wouldn't be paying attention to Quinn. All eyes would be on the couple that basically brought the Elitist society to its knees.
Damien let go of their arms sometime after speaking to Quinn. She exhaled and gave Damien a strained smile.
"You ready?" He asked, looking between the two.
Did they have a choice?
They walked down the hall, Damien standing between the two Promises with his hand resting in the middle of Quinn's back. It was silent in the hallway and the living room as everyone—human or not—awaited Mercedes and Quinn's entrance. As they got closer to the stairs, a creeping thickness filled her limbs until she was almost drowning in it. It was a feeling that almost paralyzed her.
Fear.
Longing.
Envy.
Above everything else, it was the jealousy that was making her breathless. She was jealous. Extremely, disturbingly, jealous. Of Quinn. She was envious and angry, not because she wanted Damien, but because Quinn got to be comforted by her promise while they walked into the lion's den. Unlike Mercedes, who was terrified and worried beyond belief and had to walk without her support system beside her. She was jealous that Quinn didn't have to meet and greet a bunch of dangerous powerful strangers that could probably kill her with a look. All Quinn had to do was sit and be quiet.
Damien must've sensed Mercedes' trepidation because he leaned closer to her. "Sam's waiting." He reminded her.
How could she forget?
Damien was right though. Sam was waiting on her and she couldn't stand around feeling sorry for herself.
As they continued down the hall and started to descend the stairs, Mercedes' stomach was in knots. She watched in awed dismay as some of the most beautiful people she'd ever seen came into her view. There couldn't have been more than ten of them—the most were men, and it looked like one woman. So women could have a Promised one. Huh. Mercedes felt their aura or energy or whatever it was pouring off of them. It was making her nervous, even more so than she already was.
They stared at her, eyes curious and inquisitive. The Elites, they looked like normal human beings—if normal human beings were powerful inhuman supermodels. How could any of them be attracted to regular mortals when they looked like that? The only person she saw that possibly measured up to these gorgeous immortals was Quinn.
Mercedes walked down the stairs precariously and watched her feet to make sure she didn't fall. Her knees felt like they were made out rubber. Looking at the others wasn't a good idea. She tried to imagine Sam, just his eyes, to try and calm herself down.
The real Sam was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, a hand outstretched towards her. He was the handsomest of them all, she mused. A small smile graced his face, but he looked wary and nervous. Almost scared. Mercedes didn't realize that she had begun to shake until he had a secure grip on her hand. A warm, tingling sensation spread through her from where they were joined.
She knew what it was, and it made her stomach drop. Sam's love. He was comforting her, showing his love, even now. Even though Mercedes loved no one. Even though it was all he wanted.
I hate myself.
"Mercedes," Sam said, presenting her to the other Elites, "These are the Elites that came to assist us. They wanted to meet you."
"Hello." She stammered.
The only Elite woman in the room stepped forward, her tall frame completely dwarfing Mercedes. Everyone was usually taller than her, but this woman's height could rival Sam's. On top of that, she was so beautiful it was frightening. Her red hair was long, and the ends were curly. Her skin was fair and Mercedes was pretty sure that her cheeks naturally glowed. She was so pretty that it was making her jealous.
Why would this beautiful creature want to meet someone as plain as her?
"I'm Thea," She said, her bright bluish eyes sparkling, "Everyone in the Elitist World knows about you and Samuel, the two lovebirds that singlehandedly changed Elitist society. Some people admire that kind of bravery. Others, well…don't. I'm not one of those people."
Mercedes nodded. She would've been flattered if she wasn't so terrified and insecure standing next to this immortal. This immortal who looked wild and exotic. Like a model. Like a rock star. Like Sam.
Nope, she didn't feel brave at all. She felt weak and ugly and very, very fat.
Thea studied Mercedes for a moment. "This must be very surprising to you."
"I—it's just that I—"
"She's insecure." Another Elite observed, grinning wickedly.
He was very good looking. He was Sam's height, maybe a little taller. And probably older too, with ash blonde hair. This man was blonde and green eyed just like Sam, but he was a far cry from Sam's exquisiteness. This man did not look kind, he looked vindictive and mean.
She almost pulled on her hair in frustration. Just deal with it, girl. Stop whining. Unkind or not, these inhumans are the only thing coming between you and a premature death. So deal. Because the other option means resting in peace.
"Stop it Felix," Thea chastised him, rolling her eyes. She turned back to Mercedes with a smile on her face. "She's just shy."
Mercedes bit her lip, feeling grateful and very apprehensive. She was surprised that Sam hadn't jumped into this conversation, actually. But she knew that Sam's job was not to hover. And besides Sam was somewhere close behind her, socializing with other Elites. So was Damien. Those two looked like they were in their element, like this was a reunion rather than a doomsday meeting. It seemed like Quinn and her were the only sore thumbs.
"Alright everyone, it's time to eat. We have much to discuss." Came Sam's voice from behind her.
"Thank you." Mercedes said to Thea as they made their way into the dining room.
Thea smiled, but this time Mercedes didn't feel comforted by her it. She zoned in on Thea's pearly white, inhuman teeth. Her canines, which looked sharp enough to kill. Her eyes were glowing, and in that moment Thea was terrifying. She was beautiful, but she was also a predator. Mercedes had never felt like such a second-rate being before.
"Don't worry about people like Felix," Thea responded, "He's just cranky because he doesn't have his Promise yet."
"Do you?" Mercedes asked.
"Nope. But I'm excited to finally meet mine. Face to face, you know."
"Oh."
"Mercedes?" Sam called after her, searching the room with his eyes. He was at the head of a huge dining room table, giving speeches and dictating orders, but he looked lost until her found her.
She felt the same way.
"I'm right here Sam." She answered, walking over to him.
The other Elites were fixing their plates with servings that frightened Mercedes. How could they eat that much and still be in shape?
Sam reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Staking his claim, as ridiculous as it was. Everyone knew that she was his. "Hey."
"Hey." Her voice was so small she was afraid it might disappear.
"I've missed you." He murmured into her hair, so quietly she knew no one else heard.
She nodded because she missed him too and because there were so many emotions running through her that she didn't know what to say.
"Sam, are these…is everything okay?" Mercedes asked hesitantly.
"Surprisingly yes. Or at least as okay as this situation can be. Well…Felix and Damien are still assholes."
"I've noticed."
Sam chuckled. "Don't pay attention to Felix; he's just upset because he wants to bone his Promise who is not here yet."
"That's what Thea said."
He nodded. "Thea's friendly. Something I can't say about the others. They mean well…but they're a bit standoffish. And nervous about getting to their Promises. Once they have em' they'll act better."
Mercedes felt nonsensically resentful hearing Sam talk about another woman. "She's very pretty." She noted.
Sam shrugged. "I've known her since we were children. She's okay I guess. Not prettier than you, though. You're gorgeous."
The way he said it—so nonchalantly like it was a fact and not a compliment—made her heart swell. How could she not love this? Love him?
"Let's get something to eat and then we can start, okay?"
"Okay."
"First question," Damien started after he scarfed down a chicken breast like it was nothing, "What's it like back in Elitist?"
Thea spoke up, as she was halfway done with her food. It was still mind boggling to Mercedes how these people could eat so much.
Maybe it's because they're not really people.
"It's hell." She said, "The Council has forbid any and everything that has to do with having a Promise."
"I thought it was just restrictions." Damien stated.
"It was," She replied, "But then it got…worse."
"How so?" Sam asked, putting his chicken leg down.
"Other Elites started asking questions, and wouldn't take no for an answer. We…they didn't like being told that they couldn't have the one thing that made them happy. It strained the relationship between the Council and the community." Felix told him.
"I'm not surprised, it was bad when I was still there." Damien said.
"Yeah," The one who Sam identified as Paul added, "People started to rebel. They stopped following orders, stopped monitoring other realms and watched their Promises instead."
Sam looked surprised. "Really?"
"Well there weren't a lot of us that outright rebelled," Someone spoke up. Mercedes had no idea who it was though, "But I know personally that everyone didn't agree with the Council's outlawing decisions."
"We don't need disagreements, Thierry. We need a full-out rebellion." Damien snapped, looking worriedly over at Quinn, who like Mercedes, was quiet.
Damien shouldn't have been concerned over her silence though. What were they going to say? As curious as Mercedes was, she knew her place and it was not this conversation. So did Quinn, apparently.
"No, no, this is good." Sam insisted, "A simmering disagreement and disobedience is what causes rebellion. The Council knows that. That's why they completely prohibited anything that had to do with Promises. It means that the Council is scared."
"Yeah, but what are we supposed to do while they try to get Elitist back together?" Thea asked, "I mean, they're already on to us. We only have so long until they come for us."
"We know we have nine days to prepare. But we can't just wait until they get here. We need a plan." Felix agreed.
"Well, the others have discussed this…and we had an idea." A different Elite offered. He was tan with black hair and attractive, but they all were so it wasn't surprising anymore.
Sam perked up. "Yeah?"
"We've thought of something that would give us an advantage." The black haired Elite said.
Impatience was rolling off Damien in waves. "Well what is it?"
"They already know that we'll be waiting for them, but what they don't know—or understand, rather—is how strong we can become with our Promises around for these few short days. So when they come for us we should be prepared physically."
"Okay…this we already knew." Damien retorted flatly.
"Well, Paul and I have gone over a plan…and it could work, but…" The Elite hesitated.
"Spit it out, Syren." Sam demanded, looking apprehensive and very tired.
"Paul thinks an ambush would give us the best opportunity to win this and not have a lot of casualties."
Mercedes was eating good, enthralled by the conversation and enjoying Sam's home cooked meal, but this made her heart pound. Casualties. That meant dead people, because people were going to die. That's what happened in wars after all.
"So you're saying that you think the best idea would be to ambush them?" Sam was saying above the pounding of her heart.
Syren nodded. "Yes. And to do that we'd have to get them at a place they won't expect."
"Which means what?" Damien snapped.
Paul sighed. "It means that we'd have to leave sooner."
Mercedes' fork clanged against her plate because it dropped, along with her stomach. They were going to leave sooner than nine short days? Sam would leave her before then? How were they going to be prepared if they had less time than what was already given?
"How soon?" Sam's voice was hollow. Mercedes could feel her heartbeat in her ears and bile rise in her throat.
He's all I have and he's leaving me. The words resounded in her head and dread ate at her, making her vision swim. She was going to faint for sure this time.
But then her confusion turned into horror and then complete heartbreak with the next words Paul said.
"We would have to leave within the week. Before Sunday for sure so…five days."
Five days?
Not even nine?
God, no.
THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO:
NCC-0419, Kimpa7809, Haitianm, zeejack, bluchromed2002, rocklesson86, dioyou123, LovesamcedesStory, krazykay23, and Emily8x3.
Thank you all so much for your continued support! I don't know where this story would be if it wasn't for your encouragement. Ya'll are my inspiration.
This chapter was…hmm. How did we like the Quinncedes convo? The dinner? The other Elites?
I haven't written for this story in so long that I think it's going to take some time to get back into it, but I should update within the next week because my summer classes don 't begin until July. Watch out for that!
And please review!
