by K. N. Banet
“Yeah, I got that over the last four months of studying,” he retorted, a small smirk forming. “I have paid attention.”
“Yeah, I know,” I whispered as I looked back at the board. But we don’t talk a lot and most of the time, telling you about things is all we do talk about.
“The idea of being fae is actually something from the fae lands. There’s a lot that falls into that. The Sidhe, the children of Titania and Oberon? They control everything, but they aren’t the only fae species. Just the one everyone is accustomed to dealing with,” he quoted as if he were reading directly from one of the dossiers I had given him over the last few months. By the smile on his face, it was as if he read my mind. “Did I get that right?”
“Yeah, you did,” I answered, trying not to smile. Wanting to talk to him was a need I didn’t like having, but I was glad he was willing to indulge it. Biology and my own loneliness were getting the better of me. “Do we have records of every species that falls under fae distinction?”
“No.” His voice was suddenly soft. “It’s crazy to me, just how big everything really is. I grew up with such a small viewpoint of the world.”
“Worlds,” I corrected. “Remember, planes of existence. Demons, angels, fae, and others came from different places and mostly just use this world as a place to hang out, make money, get away from their own politics. Same for the gods. Pocket dimensions and shit.”
“Worlds,” he agreed, nodding. “Sorry.”
“We got way off track,” I declared, waving a hand back at what had kept me up. “If you don’t want to get back to sleep, you can definitely help me.”
There wasn’t much left to do. A couple of notes to write now about Dunter, who was deceased. Raphael made sure I understood that.
“I ripped his head off,” my roommate said, swallowing an obvious lump in his throat.
“Ah. Yeah, he’s dead,” I mumbled, knowing it wasn’t an easy thing for him to admit. Ripping someone’s head off was a feat. We had witnessed Sinclair do it.
An hour after I got out of the bed and thirty minutes since Raphael had joined me, my cell phone started going off. I grabbed it quickly, not bothering to see who was calling. I would talk to anyone if it meant getting even a shred of information.
“Executioner Sahni, I come bearing news. Listen and ask questions when I’m finished,” Hasan said, starting the conversation off on a strong foot. I didn’t even greet him, waiting for more. “We’ve put Executioners on alert worldwide. Our current directive is to wait for the concentration of the problem to spread out. If we pull them from their regions, we leave vulnerabilities around the world, and they don’t understand Phoenix as well as you and other locals. It would also be a major exposure risk. If the escapees go to ground outside your region, others are waiting on them. Have you learned anything new, anything that might help us further develop a plan against this?”
I considered my board, frowning. I thought about Nakul and knew Hasan would want to know this was in some way personal for me now, but I still didn’t know if I could trust him.
The best way to find out is to test it. Maybe he’ll say something to ease my nerves. I’ll give him a little, and maybe that will give me some leeway to break the rules without getting fired or killed myself. He’s a member of the Tribunal, and I don’t know how deep this goes.
“Some of them tried to kill me, remember? I’m going to assume they aren’t going to be passive and disappear just to make my night a little easier. I have a little evidence toward that. I’m in for a fight, I bet.” I couldn’t tell him exactly where that had come from, but I could back up my claims later when anyone came asking.
“Kaliya, I’m going to make a recommendation. Stop pissing off people enough to create schemes to kill you.” He didn’t sound amused, but something about the advice made me want to laugh.
“I’ve never needed to piss off anyone to get them to want to kill me. It’s a natural-born talent,” I retorted. “People have been trying since I was a kid, and I don’t see it stopping if I start behaving myself now. Honestly, it’s why I began misbehaving. Might as well give them a legitimate reason.”
“I’m beginning to tell,” he muttered. “Because I know my son, and you were trained by him, I’m going to make an assumption.”
“Go for it.” I wanted to hear this.
“You don’t want us to send in help, do you?”
I considered it, looking at the board. Aimlessly and still not answering Hasan, I wrote the Tribunal down on a notecard, then each of their names. Callahan, the male werewolf of the Tribunal, had asked Tarak to get the review done if I remembered correctly. Not that I could ask now. Oisin wasn’t happy with my current arrangement and hated me. Alvina was unavailable, like every other fae. Perfect timing with that. I had no idea where the witches stood, but I knew the local vampires still didn’t like me. The connection between them and the vampires on the Tribunal was too close for comfort.
“No.” Now was the time to ask for the world. I needed a longer leash and permission to do things they wouldn’t give me under other circumstances. Hopefully, I could phrase it right and get what I wanted. “I would prefer if I was given leave to defend myself from the escapees and perform a personal investigation into the matter. They’re trying to kill me. If that gets back to the Tribunal, and I feel your safety is at risk, I’ll let you know, but right now, I don’t need a lot of people I’ve never worked with running around the city. The risk of injury is too high, and as you said, other Executioners and Investigators don’t know the area.”
“Do you understand that nothing you find can be used until it’s verified by an Investigator? I’m more than willing to give you the freedom to act on your own, considering the situation. Since one of your loudest detractors isn’t currently available to vote on the manner, I’m certain the rest of the Tribunal will agree with me. Due to extenuating circumstances, without Lord Cassius available to do the investigation and the safety risks involved with sending others your way at this time…”
“Exactly. Can we do that? Are you sure?”
“I’ll pass it along and make it happen,” he confirmed. “You’ll hear back from me in an hour with a final answer. Wait until then, and don’t act on your own.”
I knew I liked this werecat, even if I didn’t trust him yet. Part of me wanted to tell him about Nakul and get his viewpoint on the entire matter. Since I had met him, he’d done nothing but stir up shit, but he was reasonable. Just like his son, it seemed like he had a very straightforward way of doing things, and he saw no reason to lie, cheat, or steal.
Well, someone must have had to teach Hisao that. I guess this would be the guy.
We said a few more pleasantries, then he hung up before I could.
I put my phone down and sighed at Raphael.
“An hour. What do you want to talk about?” I tried to be nonchalant, but something was bugging me. Something is always bugging me.
He didn’t answer, so I continued.
“Because I was considering asking you why you would risk your life to save mine.”
12
Chapter Twelve
Raphael seemed surprised. It was a simple question.
Why?
We stared at each other in my dark office for longer than I considered tolerable.
“If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have—”
“You’re the first person to give me a chance and help me move forward,” he answered swiftly. “You saved my life from Mygi, from Sinclair, and from a bounty I couldn’t do anything about. You’ve helped me start a new life and leave behind the…” He looked away from me. “When I saw him going for you, I figured it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t just let you die and save myself. Not after what you’ve done for me.”
“Oh.” I honestly hadn’t been expecting that. For some reason, I had been expecting something more selfish. Everyone was selfish. Everyone considered their own survival first. He’d just considered what he thought
he owed me. He’d said it was the ‘right thing to do.’
“That’s it? Oh?” he scoffed, which turned into a sad chuckle. “Of course.”
“Now wait a min—”
“Not everyone is a terrible or selfish person, you know. Some of us just do good things and try to be good people.”
“I didn’t say—”
“But from your perspective and the things you’ve probably seen, I guess you would—”
“Stop fucking cutting me off,” I snapped. “I get it. I have a more cynical view of the world. There’s no reason to nail that point home every time you get the chance. Thank you, by the way, for the whole saving my life thing. I like being alive.” With an angry shake of my head, I walked out of the office, pissed off.
I couldn’t shake the feeling I was one of those terrible or selfish people he talked about. I never really considered myself a good person, but rather a survivor. I had to be. Good was subjective when it came to staying alive another day.
“Asshole,” I muttered as I went into the kitchen to make a fruit smoothie. If I was going to be awake, eating something was a decent idea.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, walking in behind me. He dared to grab the frozen fruit from my hands and put it on the counter for me. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
“I know how I come off,” I said, refusing to look up. I grabbed my things and went to a different section of the counter. “Not all of us have the privilege of doing the right thing all the time. We’re not allowed. Sometimes, staying alive and meeting another sunrise means we have to do the wrong thing. Look, I haven’t killed Nakul, even after all the terrible things he’s done. I’m breaking the rules of my job. Why? Because he has information that could save lives. Not just mine, but yours, and who knows who else.”
“Then you’re doing the right thing, saving lives—”
“To who? The Tribunal certainly wouldn’t agree,” I hissed. “They could have my head for it. Certainly not to the men he left without families while he went on a grief- and insanity-induced murder spree for several decades. They would hate this. They would think I’m showing him favoritism because he’s my family and fuck, maybe I am.”
“Okay, I get it.” He lifted both hands and stepped back from me.
“Do you?” I asked softly, throwing strawberries into my blender. “Do you really? This is the supernatural world, and we don’t play by the rules, Raphael. Everything humans have thought to ban, we still allow as long as we can get away with it. Sure, there are Laws, and most of them are serious, but there’s a lot that people get away with. The sooner you understand that, the sooner you’ll be just as fucking cynical as me.”
“What are you trying to say?” He seemed genuinely confused.
I let out a huff, trying to find the best way to explain.
“Humans outlawed duels a long time ago, yeah? They think that conflict doesn’t need to end in bloodshed. After a few generations, everyone got used to that. Unless it’s a war or something, no one really duels. If they fight, it’s not socially acceptable. Are you following?”
“Definitely. It’s human nature to fight for something, but kids get suspended from school, people get arrested for assault. No longer acceptable to society at large. Got it. We’ve had those laws for decades.”
“Now, consider taking the generations out of the equation. A lot of supernatural species are immortal with long life spans. Suddenly, some assholes decided to write down some rules. No stealing children from humans, no wars, none of that. The bad guys? They still want to live in the world they grew up in and reigned supreme over. They’re still chafing, and they’ll find any way to continue their lifestyle. Not because they’ve had it for a few human decades. In some cases, they’ve been living this way for literally thousands of years.” I finished putting together my smoothie and hit blend. “There’s no right way to do anything. We’re the wild west, Raphael, and we probably always will be. I know I’ve said that to you before. Sure, we made rules and try to enforce them. We even have that fucking prison now, even though it seems pretty worthless at the moment. But we still have people, a vast majority of the most powerful supernaturals, who want to live lawlessly and do as they please because they’re powerful enough. Does it make me a terrible person for just trying to survive and assuming the worst? I don’t know. Sure, I see the world cynically, but that’s because we’re supernatural, and idealism is for the dead.”
My parents were idealistic. I used to be, too.
“I never said you were a terrible person,” he snapped, hitting the counter. “Fucking hell, you are impossible.” He stormed out. I finished blending my smoothie, and he walked back in, only gone for maybe thirty seconds.
“Let’s try this again. I can’t fucking handle leaving this unfinished.” I almost groaned. “I saved you because you saved me. When you look at me, don’t be cynical. That’s all I want, okay? Try to embrace just a little idealism for me. That’s all I want, to be someone you don’t assume the worst from.” There was something desperate in his last words. I wasn’t sure if it was because of me or if he was trying to convince himself of something. I glanced up at him for a second and caught a dizzying amount of emotion on his face I wasn’t prepared to deal with.
“I saved you for selfish reasons,” I whispered.
I also put your life at risk for selfish ones.
Gods, I am a terrible person, aren’t I?
“I don’t care,” he snapped. “You saved me, and that’s all that really matters.”
“Sure,” I mumbled. “Let’s drop it.”
“We have time, so why don’t we try to reach some level of understanding?” He stood too close, which was still about five feet away. I could feel his heat, my skin too sensitive to his temperature.
“Understanding?” I scoffed. “What? Do you want my backstory? Do you want to know how I got here, dealing with you? With Nakul?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Why?”
“If you won’t tell me for the sake of finally getting to know each other better, maybe we can make it about this. If I’m going to be putting my life at risk again, I might as well know more about the woman who pisses off everyone she meets. I need to know when I need to look over my shoulder and with whom.” The look he gave me was expectant.
He has a point. I hate it when he has a point.
“Fine. While we wait for Hasan to call me back, we’ll talk. You might as well understand exactly why people dislike me, considering it might get you killed too.” Since I didn’t know exactly who put the hit on me, assumptions were a bad thing. I couldn’t assume it was Mygi in retaliation for keeping Raphael from them. I couldn’t assume it wasn’t a personal grudge or a professional one. I could only follow the facts.
And he might as well be on the same page. I’ll treat him like Cassius. A partner sometimes.
“I grew up being trained to protect myself on my family’s property. And to give you an idea of what that means, the property had twelve-foot stone walls, magical traps littered all over it, and a wide variety of deadly snakes we kept, both for our own enjoyment and a further layer of protection, especially from humans. The magic traps were for other supernaturals.”
“So, you grew up paranoid and hidden.”
“Yeah, and if you were a normal supernatural, you would have already assumed I did because every naga lives that way now…except me. I go places and do things. Why? Because none of it works. I was twelve when my family was murdered. I was able to get out through one of our hidden escape routes, but my parents never followed me. My brothers never followed me. I spent a little while roaming, unable to find anyone or get help, too scared to ask normal people. I was very sheltered.” I poured my smoothie finally, hoping it wasn’t ruined by sitting for so long and walked into the living room.
“Same night? Nakul’s wife and son were butchered. It was a coordinated attack on every naga family with a female. We’re considered more vulnerable, thanks t
o sexism, and obviously, females equal breeding, which equals repairing our kind’s population.” I rolled my eyes as I finished.
“Jesus,” he whispered, following me. “That’s an archaic way of thinking.”
“Isn’t it? Remember what I just said, though. Most supernaturals are immortal. Sexism is hard to beat when it’s being perpetuated by men who are accustomed to times when women were property in a very real sense.” I sighed as I sat down, crossing my legs. Raphael sat down in one of the armchairs, then leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. The lines of his face were severe, even in the low light.
“You seem bitter.” The words were sad. “Is that what I’ve been missing here? You’re bitter.”
“I am,” I answered shortly, unable to deny it. “You would be too if you were found as a young teenager, your family dead, and the leader of your people told you that you had one responsibility in life. Have children. Breed. That’s it. Get paraded at puberty in front of the males of your kind, in hopes one of them might be compatible with you. Have kids as soon as possible, as often as possible.”
“Compatible?” Raphael sounded disgusted.
“Information for a different night, but you can assume it meant they wanted to find someone for me to fuck and have kids with.” I wasn’t getting into naga breeding with him tonight. Probably would eventually, but not tonight. I didn’t want him knowing the signs of compatibility, for obvious reasons.
“What did you do?”
“I ran away,” I said simply, but there was so much more.
I could still remember every detail of that night. Adhar upset I wasn’t able to mate with any of the available male nagas, furious even, like it was somehow my fault. He knew I would grow up to be a de facto leader of the naga, something no one had told me. I heard him say it that night, about how he needed to make sure I was perfect, well educated, and continued the old ways of doing things. Being mated would have helped control me and kept me doing things his way.
