This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab Read Free Book Online Page A

.”
    August closed his eyes.
    â€œUnion Plaza.”
    Two stops.
    â€œI’m sure it’s too late . . . ,” the woman rambled on, “. . . but I still dream about it. . . .”
    She wasn’t even talking to him, not really. Monsters couldn’t tell lies, but when humans were around Sunai, they became . . . honest. August didn’t have to compel them—if he could compel them not to open up, he would—they just started unloading. Most of the time they didn’t even realize they were doing it.
    Henry called it influence , but Leo had a better word: confession .
    â€œLyle Crossing.”
    One stop.
    â€œ. . . I still dream . . .”
    Confession was without a doubt his least favorite ability. Leo relished it, willing everyone around him to voice their doubts, their fears, their weaknesses, but it just made August uncomfortable.
    â€œDo you dream . . . ?”
    â€œColton ,” announced the voice overhead.
    The train ground to a halt, and August said a silentprayer as he fled the subway car, the woman’s confession following him out.
    If North City was surreal, Colton was something else entirely. August had never been this far from the red. The Academy was fenced in, but unlike the Seam, the walls seemed more aesthetic than functional; beyond the wrought iron gate, Colton Academy sat on a rolling stretch of grass, a line of trees at its back. August had seen trees once before, in a run-down park three blocks south of the compound, but these were different. There were enough of them to make a wall. No, a forest . That was the name for so many.
    But the trees didn’t distract him nearly as much as the people .
    Everywhere he looked, he saw them, not FTF cadets or North civilians, but teenagers in Colton’s trademark blue. Boys and girls walking through the gates, or sitting clustered in the grass. He marveled at the easy way they chatted and hung on one another, elbows bumping, arms thrown around shoulders, head to head and hip to hip. The way their faces broke into broad grins, or pursed in annoyance, or opened with laughter. They made it look so . . . natural.
    What was he doing here?
    Maybe Leo was right; he should have eatensomething. Too late now. He fought the urge to retreat, tried to remind himself that he’d wanted a way out of the compound, that Leo of all people had vouched for him, that he had a job to do, one as important as the rest of the FTF. He forced his feet forward, so sure with every step that someone would see through the Colton clothes and the practiced smile, and notice he wasn’t human. As if it were written on his face as plainly as the marks down his arm. All of a sudden the hours spent before the mirror seemed ridiculous. How could ever he mimic this? How could he think that he was capable of passing for one of them, just because they were the same age? The thought snagged him. They weren’t the same age. They only looked his age. No, that wasn’t right: he looked their age, because they’d all been born, and he’d woken up in the shape of a twelve-year-old boy because that’s how old they’d been, the bodies in the black bags when it started with a bang , not the universe only the sharp staccato bursts of gunfire and—
    He slammed to a stop, struggling for air.
    Someone bumped his shoulder, not a friendly jostle but a hostile jab, and August stumbled forward, regaining his balance in time to see the guy—broad-shouldered and blond—shoot a hard look back.
    â€œWhat’s your problem?” snapped August, the question out before he could think to stop it.
    The boy spun on him. “You were in my way,” he growled, grabbing August’s collar. “You think I’m gonna let some shit newbie mess this up? This is my year, asshole, my school.” And then, to August’s horror, the guy kept talking . “Think you can scare me with that creepy stare? I’m not afraid of you.