Chapter 1

Grown-Up

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Chapter 1 - Grown-Up

Adira Elm

Friday, November 1, 1996

6:51 P.M.

Monsters aren’t born, they’re made.

“You’ve got this, Addi,” I say to myself in the mirror, admiring the gold necklace Mom lent me. I look like a grown-up.

No, I am a grown-up, a 17-year-old grown-up who clicks her Cherry Zinger Flip Smacker, pressing it to her upper lip.

Just in time for the aggressive knock on my hotel room door to make me nearly stab myself in the eye with lip gloss.

Crap on a candlestick—I’m late!

Less than two minutes later, the four of us: Ms. Irit, our trainer, in the lead, me and my twin-brother Ari in the middle, and our older brother Danny in the rear, exit the elevator. We’re headed for the conference rooms hallway. The tall, dark buttercream walls look and bright white ceiling remind me of my Senior Prom hotel: fancy, forgettable, and probably ending with me being awkward around absolutely everyone.

I shudder thinking about Prom. I went without a date, again. I’m not too ugly, I don’t think. I mean, I got asked. But Mom said no, like I knew she would.

“Not exactly a ski resort in the Alps,” I scoff, trying to get my head in the game.

“That was when Clan Nachtulf hosted last time. It is now another clan’s turn,” Ms. Irit, our fearless leader, says in her Hungarian accent. She trudges ahead in her floral pleated skirt with a dramatic pattern of red and blue diamonds, separated by gold criss-crossed embellishments, and her signature oversized beige cable knit sweater, her medium curly hair pulled back in a bun. She looks way too casual to walk into the room full of monsters ahead.

She’s already, like, super crazy, but she has to be out of her mind using this as our final test. I mean, seriously, two human teenagers who know nothing about the other clans have to serve as delegates at The FOUR Pact Renewal Conference?!

“This is way too risky,” I say under my breath.

“Enough of your mouth, Adira,” Ms. Irit scolds. “Now is not the time.”

I stick my tongue out at the back of her head.

“I felt that. I know you are nervous, just sit, introduce yourself, and listen,” she says as we make our way down the conference rooms hallway.

She’s right, relax Addi.

Everyone else that will be in that room was born human too. They just underwent their clan’s initiation ritual, and now they’re just, like, stronger and deadlier and have powers. But Ms. Irit assured me there’s nothing to worry about, there’s a parlay in effect, so everyone is on equal footing.

Everyone except for me, and my loser twin brother Ari—we’ll be the only humans, or in the world of Initiates, Aadi, in the room. Don’t ask me how initiation works, I won’t know until I’m allowed to go through the ritual. And I’ll be allowed only after we go home with the renewed pact in hand.

So I’m not nervous, I’m, like, super excited. I’m going to crush this.

I mean, why would I be nervous?

Nothing, not even the Jack of Hearts, the Strategy and Intelligence Officer of the original FOUR Team in 1945, and this year’s conference host, is going to get between me and my initiation.

He's only, like, a head honcho of our enemy clans, Clan Peri. But they’re only at war with us because their ally, Clan Diiv, declared war on us over a thousand years ago.

I mean, sure, Clan Diiv is here too—they’re part of this pact, but Ms. Irit and my older brother Danny, our security escort bringing up the rear, can take care of them. And we won’t be alone. Our ally, Clan Nachtulf, is the fourth clan that’s part of the FOUR Pact.

Point is, I’m excited. Actually, I’m stoked. Because I can finally prove I’m worthy. I was born, literally, to be an Initiate in our small, but freaking badass clan!

But as we turn, passing the Second Annual Conference on Breastfeeding, it hits me that not only is Clan Peri our enemy…

They’re cheap.

So cheap, in fact, we actually have to turn around because we passed our conference room and almost walked into the Dickie-Butkiewicz Wedding.

We find “The Boardroom.” When Ms. Irit explained Clan Peri is more business-like than the rest of the clans, I pictured a business-casual first night, like the invitation said, and then the other nights would be more like fancy balls with evening gowns and tuxedos. At worst, something formal and imposing like the United Nations.

“Wait out here,” Ms. Irit says to Danny.

Okay, here we go.

Danny cracks open the door.

I look into the room, and my heart drops.

“C’mon, Ms. Irit,” I beg, shaking, looking into the jaws of certain death. “I….”

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