Heirs of War Read Free Page B

life.” Ariana gestured angrily to the cheerleaders she was photographing from the bleachers as they went through their practice routines. “I should be cheering with them, not sitting here watching.”
    “You’re capturing memories, ensuring these moments will stand the test of time.”
    “You’ve been watching Win a Date With Tad Hamilton again. And besides, capturing memories is great and all if I actually had some of my own to look back on with fondness in ten years.”
    Emma’s normally tan complexion turned a bit green as her wide eyes focused on someone crossing the football stadium. “Then again, it might be nice if you were alive in ten years to reflect on life at all.”
    Ariana’s lavender eyes followed the path of Emma’s gaze. Her jaw dropped as she recognized the bulk of a man making a beeline to her, either completely oblivious to the football players he was weaving through or just not caring. The latter seemed more likely.
    “I can’t believe they sent Varrick after you. Is he, like, your Dad’s errand boy or something?”
    “More like his enforcer,” she muttered. Somehow, whenever Ariana was in trouble—or even afraid of getting in trouble, Varrick was there. She lowered her camera and placed a hand on her hip, attitude in hand, as Varrick approached. “How’d you find me?”
    Varrick let out a gruff laugh. "You're the only kid I know who sneaks out of the house to come back to school after-hours."  He turned his head to the blonde at her side and gave her a nod. “Emma. Nice to see you again. I’m assuming your parents know you’re here?”
    Emma’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she let out a squeak and mumbled something about going home. Ariana waved her off. Emma’s parents always knew where she was as there was hardly a rebellious bone in her best friend’s body, but Emma was terrified of Varrick. Most people were. Even Ariana had to (reluctantly) admit he was pretty intimidating.
    But Ariana was just as stubborn as he was intimidating, so her hand remained firmly on her hip as she addressed him. “I wouldn't sneak out if my freak-show parents would loosen the apron strings a bit."
    "I understand you're mad at them—“
    "They told you? Good. Now you might understand why I hate them so much."
    He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of laugh-line-framed eyes that were both impatient and understanding. "Look, Ariana—“
    "No, you look. I worked my butt off for the past four years so I could get into a good college. A good college, Varrick. Like NYU or UCLA. And now they aren't even going to let me apply. How unfair is that? I'm getting ready to turn eighteen, and they think they can rule my life once I'm an adult! I hate them."
    "No, you don't."
    "I will if they don't let me go. My Dad might be your best friend, but he isn't exactly a contender for Father of the Year right now."
    "I'm sure they have their reasons, Ariana. You're growing up, but you don't know much about the worlds."
    "World, you mean," she corrected him.
    "Of course, the world." He stood up, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I should get you home."
    "I think I've got everything I need for my yearbook assignment." She gave the field a cursory glance, watching as her classmates and friends had fun. "Must be nice."
    "What?"
    "Getting to do this stuff. I used to think I would run track or something. But instead, I have to find activities I can do at home in case I can't get a chaperone."
    He tapped a finger on her camera case. "Come on, kiddo. If I don't get you home soon, your parents are going to rethink this whole dance thing I convinced them to let you go to."
    "You convinced them to let me go to the Homecoming Dance?" She let out a squeal at his nod of confirmation, jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. "Varrick, you are the absolute best!"
    He gave her back a halfhearted pat. "Easy, now. There are two conditions." He waited for her to ease herself off him before he continued.