Inborn (The Birthright Book 1)

Chapter 8

The next morning, I rushed to my locker, completely distracted from noticing anything or anyone, until I found Lachlan waiting for me, a backpack slung across one shoulder. I slowed down, staring at him in a totally different light now. One painted a slightly darker shade of red.

"What are you doing here?" I said.

"Talking to you."

"We already had this conversation. I mean at this school. What are you doing?"

"I think that's pretty obvious. I'm here to learn."

I jerked open my locker door, stuffing materials inside it. "You know what else is obvious? You can't be officially enrolled here."

Lachlan leaned one shoulder against the next locker. "Check the database, princess. It's all tidy and official." He patted his backpack, which I assumed he was carrying for show.

I slammed my locker shut and got up in his face, which meant I had to tilt my head up and ruin the whole threatening effect I was going for. Especially since I was keenly aware that I was mentally logging the way locks of his black hair cut across his nose and how his eyes challenged me. And not just as a passing observation. I was committing it to memory, the way you do when you like someone. But I squashed that thought immediately. I could not like the shed intruder. I refused to. Especially now that I was convinced he had some connection to my mom.

"We both know that's not true," I said.

"It's true for everybody else, Rosamund. Just roll with it."

I studied his face, but there was nothing to read on it. He was dead serious, and I had to admit, he was also right. No one else blinked an eye at who he claimed to be. But that didn't make me feel better. He knew what he was doing–or was good at acting like it.

"I don't like doing what everybody else is doing," I said. "I don't care what the rest of them think. I know the truth."

"You think you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you have a lot of assumptions based on few facts."

I slammed my hand against the locker door, startling some kid across the hall. "Fact," I hissed, grabbing one side of his jacket collar, yanking his face closer to mine, "you are squatting on private property. Fact: you detected and avoided nonhuman technology. Fact: you are not human."

A twinkle surfaced in his blue eyes, which I noticed had darkened during our conversation.

"What?" I said, stepping back from him.

"Nothing. You just remind me of someone. Someone I've missed."

"Who are you really? And why are you staying in our shed?"

"You ask a lot of questions, but are you prepared for the answers?"

That was a riddle of a response at best and I had no idea how to reply, so I said nothing.

After studying my eyes, he inhaled slowly. "You need to get to class. You'll be late." He pushed off the locker and sauntered down the hall, to where I had no clue. I was seriously wondering why he was here at all. He seemed to be alone, he was definitely nonhuman, and he had no interest in actually attending school. I was beginning to feel targeted.

I thought of how I found him wandering around upstairs in our house, seeming to come from my parents' bedroom. And he acted out of sorts after he met my mom. Maybe this had nothing to do with me exactly. Maybe it did have to do with her. Was she the person I reminded him of?