by Elise Jae
“I’m not a geneticist….” Cindy doesn’t look at me, she looks at the man in charge. “What’s going on, Drift?”
He doesn’t answer her, looking at the ceiling instead, and I know he’s searching for a credible lie.
“Fault was the Maker’s son.” I say it while staring at Drift. “Drift made him swear he’d never say anything about it, even though he was tortured just as much as the rest of them. Made him promise he’d never bond—I was an accident. Made him promise he’d never have children. He’s made him feel like somehow he was guilty in all this.”
Drift has the decency to look as though I’ve slapped him.
“That’s why you wouldn’t give me access to the medical data?” Cindy’s gone pale. “You thought, what?”
Drift looks like he’s ready to shoot me. “He didn’t need to be punished for the connection.”
“By anyone other than you?” I ask it before I think better of it, but once it’s out, I’m not willing to take it back. “What did you think they’d do? Tell him he couldn’t request a bond mate? Tell him he was never allowed to have children, just in case he or they turned out like the Maker? Did you think they’d exile him to an outpost close enough they could easily come kill him if needed? Bar him from the meetings? What were you trying to protect him from that you weren’t already doing behind closed doors?”
Drift’s gaze is so dark, it should scare me. “That is enough.”
“I don’t think it is.” But for now, I would put all of my focus on Fault. “When he wakes up, things are going to change.”
And not just him.
Cindy clears her throat, and I can’t be even a little sorry if I’ve made the rest of them uncomfortable.
“I’ll monitor him. Now that I have access to the unit, I’ll get his information in real time without having to be here, in your way.” She looks back at the data, scowling. “There’s nothing I can do right now that you haven’t already. And if you can feel how he’s changing, you’ll be better equipped to know how to make him comfortable.”
I nod because I don’t know what to say.
“He’s not in any specific danger as far as I can tell.”
“He’ll wake up?” I can’t stop myself from holding my breath.
“In his own time, yes.”
“But what will he be when he does?” Drift asks. The question is absent, almost as if he hadn’t intended to give it voice.
This time I actually do hit him. I punch him in the arm and can’t even bring myself to smile when he recoils, rubbing the spot.
“That is for treating him differently and still being more concerned with who his father was, instead of how to keep him safe.”
“It’s my job to protect the Brotherhood.”
“Then you’re doing a shit job of it. He’s a part of the Brotherhood too. If you want to sit on your high horse and claim this is about protecting them, you can’t pretend you’re above protecting him.”
“I’m starting to think I could leave that up to you. I didn’t realize he’d been seduced by a dragon.”
“Was that supposed to be an insult?”
He blinks, his eyes unfocusing for a moment. “I honestly don’t know.”
“I’d prefer it if, for the moment—until we figure out more—you keep this to yourselves.” I let my gaze linger on Drift. “You’ve been living a lie this whole time. A little longer isn’t going to make it any worse.”
Core looks sick and I wonder if I’ve said too much. But when he takes Cindy’s hand and leads her toward the door, the revulsion isn’t reserved for me.
Drift watches them go and then rounds on me like he might be ready to throw a punch.
“You can try to blame this on me all you want, but you two chose to go out there alone.”
I don’t get a chance to respond.
“You’re wrong.” Kimba hasn’t once stepped in to defend him before now, but I am a little surprised she’s gone so far as to naysay him. “And you’re trying so hard to be right that you’re just making it worse.”
He looks at her like he can’t fathom what she’s saying.
“Justifying it isn’t absolution.” The expression on Kimba’s face is one I’d call… neutral. She’s stating facts and if she’s mad at him, she’s not going to show it here. He’d feel it well enough without facial cues.
“That doesn’t change the fact they never should have been out there in the first place.”
I can tell Drift is about to ask, so I don’t give him the chance. “I’ve found evidence to show that the Maker was the one who anonymously threw money at the Agency to get me matched with someone in the Brotherhood. When I first found out about the sponsorship I assumed it was simply because of my bio score. But based on the fact that he was involved, I’m starting to think it wasn’t that simple.
“He left a breadcrumb in the copious files he handed over in his will… we just followed it.”
“He should have known to take back up.”
“Right, because you’ve instilled a community of trust for him.”
Kimba tugs at Drift’s arm. “We should go. There’s nothing else for us to do here and fighting isn’t going to get us anywhere.” She glares at him, not me.
And I’m glad he doesn’t argue. I don’t have the energy for this. And what little I do have, I sure as hell don’t want to spend it on him.
But Kimba hustles him out, using her huge belly as a sort of blocking mechanism. And when I close the hatch behind them. I throw that mechanical lock again.
Trapping us inside. It feels like I can finally breathe again.
The outpost is eerily quiet as I walk the steps back to where Fault is still unconscious… he looks like he’s laid out for a funeral.
That thought sends an ugly shard of sadness through me and I push it away. I’m not going to cry.
I have to remind myself I’m angry not sad.
I have to focus on him.
But he’s not the man I met in Margot’s anymore. Not superficially anyway.
The formations under his skin are too sharp, too angular. And that texture under his skin is more pronounced. The pain in my bones is a dull ache. I can’t imagine what it would feel like for him, if he was awake. Whatever change is happening to him… I hope it’s over soon. I need him back.
Twelve
WREN
The bell rings and I glance at the monitor, but it’s not one of the Brotherhood. It’s a woman. Possibly one of their bondmates I haven’t met.
I don’t like it, but I leave Fault. I’ll know if he wakes up and can run back down.
I pull the hatch out of its mechanical lock and drag the door open. Thick auburn hair sweeps down her back, skin that looks so soft…
I shake that away. She hasn’t noticed I’m here.
“Hello?”
She startles, eyes narrowed as she looks me up and down. “Who are you?”
There’s an accusation in her tone that doesn’t feel warranted. But it looks like she’s been crying, so I’ll forgive her the implied insult.
“I’m Wren.” I hesitate, and she doesn’t give me her name, but it’s freezing and so I step out of the way. “Why don’t you come in and tell me how I can help you.”
She sweeps past me, bringing a chill wind with her, and as I close the door, she says. “You can’t. I need to talk to Fault, and I need to talk to him now.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
Her spine stiffens. “Tell him Hannah is here, and I’m sure he’ll tell you you’re wrong.”
Hannah was the name of the woman he used to see at Margot’s. The woman whose absence that fateful night meant I was able to claim him. Something in her voice sounds like she thinks she’s the one who has a claim over him and I’m very happy to put that misconception to rest.
“Well, Hannah, I’m his bondmate, and I can assure you, only the Saints themselves could get him to join us. He isn’t here.”
It’s not exactly a lie.
Some of her bravado drains from her, her posture shifts. “His bondmate?”
“Yes.” I pause, “Who did you think I was?”
She looks at me, eyes shining with new, unshed tears. “But he hadn’t put in a request. He….”
“Hannah, what’s wrong.” I reach out and am honestly surprised when she doesn’t flinch away from my hand on her shoulder. If anything, she deflates.
“He was unattached.” Something brittle and broken floats under those words. “He was my only hope and you took him.”
“Your bondmate might disagree.” Because unlike those of us who snuck in to Margot’s, or had special dispensation like Kimba. No one who worked there—especially no one actively having sex with unbonded men, was allowed to be unbonded themselves. That just wasn’t how it worked.
“He’s dead.” Her voice cracks, some of her composure does too. “And you’re here.” She shakes me off and I’m the one who flinches.
She takes a step forward and I involuntarily take a step back.
A rush of heat—a wall of it—covers the front of me.
Fault is there, his skin is pure fire, and he blocks my view of her entirely.
“You need to leave, Hannah. And you need to go now.”
She looks at him like she doesn’t truly see him. But clarity does come at last and she blinks, recoiling.
“You were my last hope. You were supposed to be.... And now he’s gone and I’m alone and… and, where did she come from. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
Her words get shakier and I see her eyes widen as if a realization has struck her. “Oh God.”
Her voice breaks and she turns, running away, stopping only long enough to get the hatch open.
It clatters shut behind her and I try to get around Fault, but he doesn’t let me.
“You need to let her go.”
“I want to be sure she’s okay to drive.” But when I look up my breath catches in my throat and I can’t think about anyone, or anything else.
Because Fault is changed.
And he’s the most beautiful and terrifying man I’ve ever seen.
I startle at the sight of his eyes. They’re completely light, no iris or whites at all. Just brightness.
But he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at the door as though he can see straight through it. I reach up and all it takes is a touch.
Face turned down to me, that brightness begins to fade. The anxiety and rage I felt drops away and I sway on my feet a little as the loss makes my knees feel like they’re made of batting.
He blinks as if he needs just as much clarity as I do. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to let her know we were bonded and I wouldn’t be back.”
I glance back at the door.
I really should go after her, but… I know she’s already gone.
“Are you okay? Do we need to get you back downstairs? Jesus. You’re on fire.” I have to pull my hand away from him, the temperature of his body suddenly registering.
“I think it will dissipate when I calm down.” His lips twitch and I feel confusion.
“Her bondmate died.”
His face clears and he nods. “It would make sense she’s distraught. I’ve been told it’s excruciating.”
“Now that I have you… I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to go on without you.”
An ugly thought coils in my chest and I try to push it away.
“Tell me.” Fault is the one who touches my face, guiding me to look up at him, to meet those startling eyes again.
“Did she… kill him?” The timing was startlingly coincidental. “You got this grand inheritance and her bondmate dies. Both events so close to each other.”
“No.” He shakes his head. Teeth grit. “From what I’ve been told, it would be impossible.”
I say the line my mother parroted throughout my childhood. “There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio….”
“If I hadn’t woken up, I think she might have hurt you. The danger you were in drew me out of whatever it was that had happened….”
“She was in distress. She was lost, not exactly hostile. I would have been fine without the theatrics.”
“Kimba said that losing the bond feels like dying yourself. But her first bondmate was murdered, violently.”
“Do you think we need to worry about her anymore?” He’s still on edge.
“No. I don’t think she’ll be back.” Because she looked even more broken when she left than she had when she arrived.
But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t worry about her.
“I need to do something real quick.” I go to the nearest tablet and call up Mary’s number. Waiting impatiently as the call connects.
“Hi Mary,” I say when her face fills the screen. Her cheeks are rosy, and I can see other tell tale signs that her bondmate has returned. “I need a favor.”
“Shoot.”
“There’s a woman who just lost her bondmate. She apparently was the one who kept Fault company at Margot’s and… she’s not doing well.”
The smile evaporates from Mary’s face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she showed up here, looking to ask him to bond with her and… was distraught when she found out he wasn’t available any longer.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure she is. Can you or one of your Agency contacts reach out to Margot and see if Hannah might benefit from some counseling? I’m just worried she’s going to do something she might regret in her grief.”
“Of course.” Mary’s lips twist into a scowl. “Take care of yourself.”
She hangs up and I turn back to Fault.
“That was very kind of you.” Fault watches me, as if he’s trying to figure out what my motives are.
“I can’t blame her for wanting you.” I cross the room and sit in his lap, curling against him and soaking up his warmth. “And I can’t imagine how horrific losing her bond mate felt.” I don’t even want to think about how it would feel if I lost him.
Fault doesn’t let me go. He holds me close, and he’s right, his body temperature does dissipate.
His eyes are back to normal—as normal as they were when he was on the table, unconscious—but the changes to his skin, and the bony protrusions on his face and arms are still there.
I run my fingers over his still too-warm skin. The strange texture, the sharpness of those protrusions.
“Do I look that different?”
“Yes, and no.” The spiny ridges on his arms remind me of Batman’s gauntlets, and I imagine he could hurt someone if he swung his arm right. “There’s just more of you to get to know now.”
“I should probably go look in a mirror.”
“Probably. Cindy’s going to know you’re up. We’re going to have visitors.”
He gathers me up and settles us on the couch. “We have two and a half minutes.”
I shoot him a look, because he’s probably more correct than he knows. “I was so worried about you.”
“I know. I could feel it all. I’m surprised Drift didn’t run away scared.”
“Men like him can’t afford that. Better to risk bodily harm than showing actual weakness.” I hold him tighter. “Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.”
“I won’t. I can safely say nothing like that can happen again.” He sighs. “Time’s up.”
Drift barges in, reminding me I didn’t relock the door after Hannah left. But he stops short. The vitriol covering his face vanishes, replaced by something closer to fear than astonishment.
Fault stands, very slowly, setting me down as if Drift is going to do something if startled.
I wish I had my gun handy, but I step between them anyway.
You won’t need it. He won’t be here long.
The words ghost across my thoughts and I know they’re from Fault, but how….
“What, are you?” Drift asks, his jaw clenched tight.
&nb
sp; After a moment’s hesitation, as if he might be able to think of an answer, Fault says, “I have no idea.”
“You don’t—” Drift’s eyes go wide, he grabs his stomach as if he’s been shot and lets out a sound like he’s had the wind punched from him. “I have to go.”
“Congratulations,” Fault calls out over my head, but if Drift hears it, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
When I look up and question, Fault shakes his head. “Kimba’s gone into labor. Giving us a small respite.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugs, brow wrinkling. “I just do. Like I know that the others will be here… now.”
The chime sounds and I go to the hatch. I’d rather they get inside before they’re stopped short by the sight of him.
And it’s a good thing I do.
Cindy is distracted by taking off her coat. “Sorry, we had to drop the kids off with Laurel, and then Richter insisted on coming along.”
She’s the last to see him. But Core and Richter have much the same reaction that Drift had…
“Whoa.” Cindy blinks at him, her coat dropping to the floor. “When you said he was changing.”
“He can still hear,” Fault says, but the emotion filtering through the bond is amusement, not insult.
“You were ugly before…” Core said, chuckling. “Now…”
Cindy hits him and shakes her head. “Let’s go downstairs and see what the machines think is going on.
She doesn’t wait for any of us, and Core follows her down, leaving us alone with Richter.
“Thanks for coming to haul me out of there.” Fault’s gaze turns from Richter to me. “She would have tried to pull me through the snow herself if you hadn’t made it.”
“I think we both know she’s smarter than that.”
“I think we both know that there’s nothing we wouldn’t do for our bondmates.” He starts down the stairs. “And you’ll get the answers to your questions soon… but not today.”
“I’ve been told you have your secrets.”
“I know.”
Cindy hooks him up as soon as he sits on the table, and starts running programs.
“I was aware of everything.” He says without prompting. “I think—but I can’t be sure—through the link with Wren.”
