I’d barely paid attention to their ministrations. I was too focused on meeting with the members of the U.N. Security Council. It was more than only the head I was meeting with; representatives of the Big Five would also be in attendance. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.
“I can see the doubts swirling around that beautiful brain of yours,” Ryder drawled. “I’ll have you know that you’re the most badass woman I’ve ever met. Whatever they’ve got in store for you in there, you’ll handle it as well as you have everything else.”
I heard the words, but they didn’t process.
He’d put his phone away, his attention riveted on me. From the shine of his dress shoes to the sandalwood-scented gel barely holding his unruly hair in place, the incubus was dressed as sharply as I was. When he’d shrugged on his suit jacket, I’d caught the name of the most exclusive designer in the world, and remembered again that there was a whole side of him I didn’t know.
“How about a distraction?” His head tipped and he leaned forward, elbows braced on his thighs. The incubus tapped the tips of his fingers together in thought. “It’s been a while since we played the truth game. I’ll start.” He pushed his glasses to the edge of his nose to peer over the frame, and I relaxed marginally at the sight of his amber irises.
“I got it.” His dimple deepened and he snapped his fingers. “I don’t know how to swim.”
“You what?” I couldn’t stop the smile that creased my cheeks.
“I know, right?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. His sandalwood-scented hair gel finally surrendered its valiant fight against the unruliness of his hair and green-tinted locks went flying. “At my age, too? It’s abhorrent. Even taking baths can be tricky if I’m not careful.”
My laughter surprised me and his teeth flashed brightly as he shoved his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
“Your turn,” he said, radiating self-satisfaction.
I hummed and cracked my knuckles one at a time. “Ok. Brace yourself.” I fanned out my fingers and paused to the count of five. His smile stretched wider. “I’ve never been on a real date.”
Ryder’s face went slack. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” My braid flopped over my shoulder. “Never had time for it. Between early morning training, midday classes, and cramming at nights—not to mention all the swim competitions, I never had the patience for that kind of drama.”
It was like watching a powerful panther uncurl from a nap when he slid to his feet and prowled over to me. I was forced to stand, too, when it hurt to angle my head to keep his eyes within sight. Ryder pushed his glasses up, heat swirling in his eyes as he stroked the line of my jaw.
“I guess we’ll have to remedy that, won’t we, glowstick?”
“I—”
“Ms. Ramone, they’re ready for you,” came the crisp, cool voice of the woman who’d brought us to this particular door. Ryder held me steady, his eyes never leaving mine as he ran his finger down my nose tenderly.
“Go get ‘em,” he encouraged, nudging me toward the open door.
With effort, my feet led me away, but as I went through the door held open by the woman with horn-rimmed glasses, blood-red lips, and a chin so sharp she could write with it, I couldn’t help but wish she’d given me a chance to answer.
Chapter 39
“Good afternoon, Ms. Ramone. I trust you’re well?”
I resisted scratching the itch that had seemingly developed on every surface of my body. Sitting here in a single chair before six of the most powerful people on the planet wasn’t exactly something I’d ever considered doing, and my efforts at preparing for such a moment now proved futile.
“I am, thank you,” I said to the president of the U.N. Security Council. “It’s an honor to be here, Mr. Agard.” Placards before the other three men and two women identified them as ambassadors. “I trust you all are doing well, too.”
“As well as can be.” Mr. Agard spoke for the group, his thick French accent giving the simple words an air of sophistication. “I’ll get right to it since time is tight for all of us. The Gods have become something of an international sensation, my dear. You in particular, as the self-proclaimed leader of your renegade group, have drawn keen interest.” He steepled his fingers and his perfectly coiffed hair reflected the fluorescent light. Behind him, an array of flags from around the world hung from a wall. “Additionally, do we understand correctly that the four of you have taken control of the Order?”
“That is correct.” Ryder’s efforts to put me at ease had vaporized the moment I’d entered this stiff, stark room. My knees were locked, but I was careful to keep my hands from clenching.
“And Geoffrey Marcuzzo has been removed as the head of the church?” This came from the representative from the United States: a slender woman with curled blonde hair and intelligent, cornflower blue eyes.
“He made numerous attempts on our lives, including the demolition of his own temples,” I said carefully. “We attempted to negotiate with both him and his Council on multiple occasions, but those discussions were unfruitful. You probably saw for yourself that he forced our hand.”
“He forced you to destroy half the campus of the headquarters of the world’s oldest religion?” demanded the Russian ambassador. His nose was entirely too big for his face, giving him a bit of a pug-like demeanor. “He forced you to kill twenty-five men, women, and fey in a hostile takeover?”
I met his dark gaze without flinching. “We did everything in our power to limit casualties. Considering hundreds of Order soldiers took on a dozen members of my own team, it’s astounding that we were able to keep the loss of life so low. On top of that, records show the majority of those killed were standing inside a building that the Order itself detonated in a poor attempt at taking out my kelpie.”
“You possess magic.” He sniffed as if the term offended his very senses. “Surely there was a more peaceful resolution considering, as we’ve learned, that magic often trumps guns.”
“Not when hundreds of them are pointed in your direction and the leader of those soldiers holding them is insane,” I countered.
“Please, Mr. Petrov.” Mr. Agard held up a hand. “We’re getting off course.” When he was satisfied that things were under control once more, he continued by addressing me this time. “My understanding is that you gained your… magical abilities roughly three months ago, correct?”
I straightened. “Yes.”
“And you acquired them in Norway?”
“Off the coast actually, in waters that still belong to the Water Temple.”
“The temple that’s under the ocean?”
I didn’t understand his tone. “We both know our world history.”
“But you made your way back to Norway, Ms. Ramone. And once there you failed to notify the proper authorities about your discovery.”
That threw me and I nearly laughed in confusion. “The Order did everything in its power to convince everyone magic didn’t exist. If I was supposed to report to an authority regarding evidence to the contrary, then yes, I was unaware of such a law.”
“Since you brought them up, what about the Order?” The man from the United Kingdom bore none of the hostility of his fellow members, and was, by far the most laid back. His suit jacket was unbuttoned and his navy tie wrinkled. “Why didn’t you report to them?”
“They killed nearly everyone I knew,” I said softly, quelling the tears threatening to rise when I thought about Kaz. It was getting easier to talk about her, but I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to the grief. “And they tried to kill me. I was a little hysterical.”
They followed that line of questioning for an absurd amount of time, picking apart my actions and the actions of the Gods up through the battle at the Order headquarters. When they stopped to converse quietly, I resisted the urge to rub my temples. My head ached, and I wondered exactly what the point of this was, and where they were going with it all.
Deep down I
knew it didn’t mean anything good for me.
After ten minutes of whispered discussion I couldn’t even attempt to hear because my grasp on Air magic was nowhere near Joseph’s mastery, they turned back, pinning me with the pointed gazes of birds of prey sighting a rabbit.
“Ms. Ramone, we’d like to make sure that we properly understand a few key moments in all of this,” Mr. Agard said. I nodded stiffly, curling my fingers in my lap. “It was your decision to lead an attack on Order soldiers in Kansas City, an attack that ultimately left five dead and wiped out a city block with a resulting flood and explosion.”
My heart thudded painfully in my chest. “Yes.”
“And it was your decision to command a charge in the territory of the northern United States that resulted in even more fatalities, as well as the creation of a lake that has caused significant strain on other, more significant bodies of water in the area? A change that has had a drastic impact on people living in those areas?”
I felt numb. “Yes.”
“And it was you who killed the leader of one of the largest companies in the world, a man who was an ally to the Order and many of our nations?”
“Yes, but—”
“And it was you, Ms. Ramone, who decided to lead a war to not only remove the head of the Order, but to also dismantle its global operations, heedless of the effects it would have on society as a whole?”
“Well, that’s not—”
“And nowhere along the lines did you decide to consult with or appeal to any local, national, or international governmental body about your potentially catastrophic abilities or your intentions toward individuals or other organizations?”
“I did not—”
“What exactly are the intentions of the Gods?”
I was stiff with petrified restraint. My magic jackhammered at my pulse points. “We want to stop a global apocalypse. Nuclear war is on the horizon. You all are aware of that fact. Geoffrey said it as much, too, though he misinterpreted his vision, we believe. We’re tasked with preventing that apocalypse from happening.”
Five of the six nodded sagely as if it were the answer they were anticipating.
“Do you wish harm on any sovereign nations?”
“No.”
“Do you seek murder of any kind?”
“No. I never did.”
“And do you, as a group, agree to follow international law in your pursuits?”
“Yes.”
Mr. Agard peered down the row of his cohorts, his lips flattening. “In that case, we are willing to work with the Gods in a diplomatic fashion. You understand, nuclear war is something we all seek to prevent. Since we understand your roles here on this earth are ones that you have no control over, we readily accept that, especially considering your roles as representatives of the magic communities that we are… working on ingraining into our societies once more.” He paused. The tip of his pen tapped on the table ominously. My chest was so tight it hurt, despite the burst of good news.
“But you, Ms. Ramone, you have proven to be both reckless and inconsiderate in your pursuit of the greater good.” Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back. “You were offered any number of opportunities to take the correct action and work with the international communities to achieve your goals, and any number of times you failed to take that action. As such, your impulsiveness is not something we believe we can trust, let alone work with.”
My ribs were a vice preventing my lungs from filling.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Today, the Gods of Fire, Earth, and Air temples will be granted seats at the table of conversation and peaceful mitigation. However, we will not be extending that invitation to you or to any representatives of the Water Temple.”
Everything inside me hurt. Emotionally and physically I was destroyed.
I wanted to scream, to rage, to lash out, but that would only prove their point.
This pain was almost worse than drowning and being burned alive at the same time. Realizing that everything I’d done to do what I felt was right, to fulfill my fated duties, was ultimately what was keeping me from doing that at such a pivotal moment was cracking my chest open from the inside out. It was a wonder my dress wasn’t soaked in blood.
“You have considerable growing up to do, Ms. Ramone,” said Mr. Agard as he stood, cradling a ledger under his arm. “You know nothing of this world or of the intricacies necessary to navigate it. But should you learn, we may reconsider your case one day.”
Chapter 40
You know nothing of this world or of the intricacies necessary to navigate it.
The words haunted me, revolving in an endless carousel around my mind. The lasagna the pixies had scared up from somewhere turned to glue in my mouth, and I struggled to chew through the mass. Ryder had commandeered our new, Geneva headquarters from yet another of his many contacts, and I vaguely wondered if anyone was missing the three-story house with all its crown moldings, spiral staircases, and delicate gold finishes.
“Who wants to sit through all those meetings, anyway?” Pyra asked, waving her cigarette. She glared at Rose who mimed dropping the stick in a glass of water. “You should consider yourself fortunate that you don’t have to interpret archaic legal jargon.”
I cut another triangle of cold noodles from the watery sauce and shoveled it between my lips. If my mood weren’t bitter as black coffee I would have hugged her. At least she was trying to make me feel better. Everyone else had hovered anxiously as if waiting for me to explode.
“Besides, you can run recon back here,” Pyra continued through a plume of smoke. “Like some sort of insane chess master maneuvering all the pieces around the board. It’ll be awesome.”
You know nothing of this world or of the intricacies necessary to navigate it.
Ryder tapped his knuckles against mine, and my fork screeched across the plate.
“Thank you,” I managed through numb lips. “We’ll figure something out.”
The God of Fire gave a satisfied head-bob and turned to patronize Oron who had yet to touch his food. He’d set aside the bone mask, but the cloth bit still remained. I dropped my fork and stared into my lap. I’d explained the gist of our conversation with everyone, but I hadn’t shared Mr. Agard’s parting words. The ones that brought all my insecurities roaring to the forefront, the pointed statement that emphasized everything I found lacking in myself.
I even hesitated to tell Ryder, partly afraid that he might agree with their assessment.
“Zara and I are going upstairs,” the incubus said, pushing back from the table. Pyra waved absently, more interested in trying to convince Oron to reveal his face. Rose offered a warm smile before returning to a heated pixie debate about the merits of swords over guns. I allowed Ryder to drag me to my room upstairs where he lightly knocked me to the bed. My legs dangled over the side, limp.
“Talk to me, glowstick,” he pleaded, falling to his knees, keeping my hands folded within his. “What’s going through your head right now?”
His beautiful, amber eyes overflowed with care and concern I didn’t deserve, and I turned to the blue-black night sky visible through the window rather than acknowledge it. My silence lingered, and, after a few long minutes, he lowered his head to my lap, his strong arms wrapping tight around my waist. We stayed like that, the minutes bleeding into one another, our steady breathing filling the void.
“I never wanted to hurt anyone.” Ryder kept his cheek against my jean-covered thigh, though I felt his attention perk at my measured words. “I never came into this wanting retribution or violence or destruction. I was pushed in any number of directions very quickly and I reacted. I was trying to protect people, but I see now how, from the outside, that could be viewed as aggression, carelessness, recklessness.”
Ryder rocked back on his heels, his thumbs working circles on the juts of my hipbones. His face was pinched, his eyes squinted.
“I know the face of every person who’s di
ed at my hands.” I flexed the very digits of which I spoke, knowing the dark stains of blood marring the skin weren’t really there. “I don’t regret any of the actions I made. I take full responsibility for my decisions, but I feel incredibly lost right now.” I drew a shuddering breath. “In the end, it doesn’t matter what I did or why I did it. I’m a boat without a harbor. A God without a temple.”
“Enough of that.” The incubus clasped my head in his hands. His thumbs traced my cheekbones before he leaned in, pressing his lips softly to mine. After a moment’s hesitation, I sank into the comfort he offered, the lack of judgement, the acceptance. My arms wove around his neck, the long hair there tickling my arms, and drew him closer, our bodies drawing flush. One kiss led to two more until he hummed low in his throat and pulled back, eyes closed. His forehead rested against mine.
“You are a person in a very difficult position, with very difficult choices to make,” he said, the minty scent of his breath filling my nose. “I know for a fact that every single choice you made—even the ones that made me want to wrap you in plastic wrap forever and ever because of your impulsiveness—was made with the greater good in mind. Those people are not in your shoes, they haven’t faced your challenges, and it’s impossible to know how they would have reacted.”
“Ryder—” I started, but he pressed another soft kiss to my lips.
“You probably won’t believe me, but I know exactly how you’re feeling right now.” His eyes burned hot as the sun, mercurial and liquid. “That doesn’t matter right now, how I felt, but I want you to know that every person in this house cares about you, even that weird Oron kid. We all want to see you succeed.”
“What about you?” The question slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
Fan the Flame Page 24
