As if in confirmation of the creature he hides, James winks at me before twisting around.
“He’s my soulmate,” I grit out, loud enough for James to hear, but not many others.
James stills.
“Chase announced it at the docks last weekend, and I’m confirming it,” I say. Frantically, I scroll through recent flashbacks to find Chase’s exact words. “We can invoke protection. Does the mutual rulebook not say that if a Noble member attacks a Noble prince’s soulmate, the prince may exact any punishment he wishes?”
James cracks another smile. “That only goes one way, possum. You can’t invoke shit. And Chase? Chase agreed to these fun times.”
The ground drops from beneath my feet. “He wouldn’t.”
“He refused the Nobles’ edict, as confirmed by your testimony last night. And he’s paying the price.” James spits out the last word: “Willingly.”
I step around James, but fury quickly overrides any logic in my head. “By what? Making him endure a public lashing in the Town Square? Where’s your whip, you sick bastard? Why not tear his shirt from his body and lash him until he bleeds? Or wait—I forgot.” I throw my hands on my hips and glare. “It’s probably because we’re no longer in the seventeenth fucking century. Let him go, you turd, before I—”
“Before you what?” James’s voice takes on a needling tone, and he scrunches his hands under his eyes and fakes a baby crying. “You’ll tell the teacher on us?”
I stare at him, my eyes narrowing as his antics draw in giggles and laughter from the crowd. He drops his hands and chuckles, shaking his head in amused disdain. “Go back to your ignorant hole, you rabies infected—”
I spit in his face.
James rears back, color draining from his face until it becomes white with ominous fury.
“Callie!” Chase rasps behind me. I hear a thump and Chase’s resulting grunt. One of them hit him again. They’re beating him up.
With adept slowness, James wipes my saliva from his cheek, his hands shaking with fury and his eyes darkened by it.
I brace for his counterattack, whether it be a hit or a shove—as long as he doesn’t direct it at Chase.
What I hear instead is, “Take her. Take her before she does something epically stupid, like put me in a position to knock her the fuck out.”
Gentle hands envelop my arm, but my gut reaction is to swing out.
“It’s me,” Ivy says into my ear. I never heard her come up behind me. “Let’s go. Now.”
“But—”
“Chase is doing what he has to,” she says. “And now so are you.”
“Like leave him here to be humiliated? For his friends to use his blood to paint the asphalt?”
Ivy forces up my chin until I meet her eyes. My tumultuous heartbeat must be thrumming into her fingers. “This is the way it is,” she murmurs. “You knew it the instant you left our temple last night.”
I search her eyes, but I’m not seeing the blue. I’m thinking back. “That I’m his weakness? That’s why they’re doing this?”
Ivy’s eyes soften. “You confirmed Chase refused his orders. The Nobles wanted him to get close to you for their purposes only. To watch you, manipulate you. Never to care about you. For that, he has to be punished.”
I shake my head, unable to tear my gaze from hers. “We’ve got to do something. As Virtues, can’t we—as his soulmate, can’t I—?”
“No. I’m sorry, but we don’t meddle with internal problems. This is for the Nobles to figure out.”
“But it’s my fault.”
My heart sinks as Ivy tries to lead me away, but I keep hearing the thumps, the punches, the swallowed, enduring cries of pain.
I tear out of her hold.
Ivy whirls. “Callie—”
Backing away from her, I say, “I won’t get in the middle of it. But I’m not going to leave him here, either. I’ll watch. I’ll watch all of it, to make sure he knows I’m here.”
Ivy’s mouth falls into an O. She re-hinges her jaw enough to say, “That’s not how we…”
“I don’t care about your traditions. And I’m not going to desert him because of Mrs. Harrington’s manipulations. I’m not going to turn my back to preserve more Virtuous and Noble lies.”
“You’re risking the queen’s wrath.”
“Our plan to make me a Virtue is still in place,” I assure. “She can’t do anything if I just stand and watch.”
“But will you be able to? They’re hurting him pretty bad. Headmaster Marron is a Noble, and he won’t intervene.”
“I know,” I say, then turn away from her, toward the crowd, squeezing through for space until I’m back at the front.
Tempest’s frown has grown deeper, Riordan’s back stiffer, as they continue to hold Chase down. But James … James goes in for a kick to Chase’s gut, and some students cheer, while most gasp.
A girl with a long braid whispers to her friend beside me, “James is having too much fun. These guys follow Chase Stone’s every order. Why isn’t Chase fighting back?”
Her friend responds, “I dunno, but whatever Chase did, it’s three against one. Even our Briarcliff prince can’t fight those odds.”
“What’d he do, though?”
“Something terrible,” her friend mutters. “Something really, really bad to deserve this kind of treatment.”
“Where are the teachers?” Braid Girl asks.
I pull my lower lip in, biting down hard enough to pierce skin, but keep my eyes forward. Chase lowers his chin, covering his wince and grunting at James’s kicks, but raising his head after each blow, ensuring James meets his eye between the hits.
Chase’s glare could destroy cities.
And James’s hesitating blink before he raises his fist tells me all I need to know.
“Grab the back of his head,” James snarls to Riordan. “Expose his neck to me.”
Riordan stalls.
“I mean it!” James bellows.
After a heartbeat, where Riordan and Tempest stare at each other over Chase’s slumped form, Riordan grabs a fistful of Chase’s hair and pulls until Chase’s face is almost tilted to the sky.
James’s lips curve. “Not so fun, is it? To be nailed in the face by someone you thought was your buddy. This is for your smackdown at Piper’s memorial.”
Chase doesn’t respond, instead dragging his eyes to the side, where he catches mine.
Stay with me, I mouth, unshed tears building in my eyes.
And with each punch thrown, with each of James’s cackles and kicks, we don’t look away from one another.
Not until Tempest lays down a final, merciful blow, and Chase is sent into the black.
11
I’ve never made myself bleed before.
Yet here I am, pacing back and forth outside Chase’s dorm room, chewing my thumb off to the first knuckle.
A metallic, bitter tang coats my tongue, but I swallow it as if it were wine. The bittersweet taste is a telling reminder of where I am, who I’ve become, and what I’m waiting for.
It’s second period, and Rose House is pretty much deserted, everyone heading for class after the violent theatrics were over. It ended when, at last, a sole teacher ran down the academy’s steps, ordering James to halt at once.
He did, but not before kissing his knuckles for doing such a good job, and winking at Chase, half-conscious on the ground, and sauntering away.
God. And Chase took it. He submitted to James’s cowardly brawl, all but inviting his friend to inflict permanent physical damage. And for what?
My back stiffens when I hear footsteps thudding up the staircase and the low murmur of deep voices.
“Why’d he take it so far?” I hear Riordan ask.
“Deep down, James is a sick fuck,” Tempest responds.
“You would know,” Riordan says, trying for a joke, but it falls flat. “I mean, I always thought you to be the sociopath, not our fucking comic ginger top.”
I wait
for the fire exit to open.
Three bodies fill the frame, piling through with Chase’s head hanging in the center.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my throat growing hot.
I run over, bending to peer into Chase’s half-closed eyes. “Shouldn’t he be with the nurse?”
“He refuses,” Tempest says, grunting as he takes more of his friend’s weight.
Riordan digs in his pocket for his keycard and holds it out to me. “Mind?”
I grab it without question and beep us into Riordan and Chase’s dorm room, holding the door open for them to drag Chase in.
I’ve never been in Chase’s room before, my mind taking cursory stock of the dark wood and brown leather furnishings, a large flat-screen TV with various gaming consoles, and a lot of black, sleek appliances, before Riordan tells me to take a left into Chase’s bedroom.
A calming, grayish-blue interior greets my vision when I step in, surprisingly clean for a boy, though there is a faint, locker room smell emanating from all the sports-gear piled up in the corners.
Riordan is the first to duck under Chase’s arm and toss him on the bed in a heap, Tempest being slightly more delicate.
Chase groans at the movement.
“Ice,” I mutter to myself. “I’ll get some ice.”
Riordan stops me with a clear, “Better yet, possum, you should scat.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m not going anywhere while he’s like this.”
Riordan retorts, “It’s because of you he’s here.”
“Guys,” Tempest warns.
“Oh really?” I put my hands on my hips. “Was I the one holding his arms back so he couldn’t defend himself? Was it me who gave James over fifteen minutes with a human punching bag?”
Riordan’s face grows dark. He stalks over, pointing his finger. “You have no fucking clue, you stupid cu—”
Tempest attempts to come between us, but Chase’s guttural mutter stops all of us cold.
“What’d you say, man?” Tempest asks.
Chase’s throat bobs. His eyes stay closed. “She stays.”
Riordan curses, spinning away and dragging a hand over his short crop of brown hair. “You’re gonna be the end of us.”
“I’m not trying to be,” I say, and cut around both boys to perch on the side of Chase’s bed. “I’ll stay with him today.”
“It’s a bad idea,” Riordan says, but not to me. He’s talking to Tempest.
Tempest takes a long moment to study me, but I only half see him when I grab Chase’s hand and squeeze. “I’m here.”
“Might as well give Chase what he wants,” Tempest says to Riordan. “We can get to class, make a show of being present and unaffected by what we just did.”
I swallow, stroking Chase’s pale cheek, but keep my ears open.
“Should we leave her here, though?” Riordan asks. “Chase wants it, but our king’s made it clear—”
“Who’s gonna say something?”
Thick silence blooms.
“It ain’t gonna be me,” Tempest continues. “We may’ve been ordered to put Chase on his knees, but nothing was said about the after. We did what was directed.”
“Yeah, but…”
Tempest’s voice grows ominous. “And now, we leave him be. Whatever occurs after we toss him on his bed is his business. And he says Callie stays.”
Riordan sighs. “Fine. Fine. But I don’t fucking like this.”
Tempest says, “You’re not going to fucking say anything, either.”
I jump when Riordan says, close to my ear, “If we’re told to hold him down again, it’s on you, Callie. You hear me?”
“I snuck up here without anyone seeing,” I say. “I won’t be obvious.”
“Or do anything stupid,” Tempest warns.
I nod.
Riordan stomps out of the room, but I feel more than see Tempest lingering at the door.
In a quiet voice, Tempest says, “You know what would be best for him.”
I lower my head. “I do.”
“Good. So, take this moment, talk it out, whatever, but then leave. Leave for good.”
My answering nod is heavy, my neck unable to hold the weight.
Tempest shuts the door with a soft click.
I stare down at Chase, the black crescents of his eyelashes soft against his alabaster skin, normally so golden and flushed with the rush of endless activity.
Despite my attempt to stay strong, my throat swells, thick and hot, and incoming tears prick the backs of my eyes. I sniff back the threatening sob.
Chase’s hand twitches in mine. His pale, rose-colored lips tilt into a smile. “You’re not actually crying over my broken body, are you, sweet possum?”
His eyes open, and I’m hit with polished, shining bronze.
“So what if I am?” I mumble, rubbing the heel of my hand over one eye.
Chase’s lids lower, softening his intensity. He murmurs, “I’m not brutalized enough to deserve tears.”
“No? Because after what I saw…”
“James is a pussy.” Chase grunts while pushing himself to lean on the headrest. “He thinks he can wail on me and have me down and out for good, but I’ll be fine in a few hours.”
My brows spike. “He must’ve punched you a few too many times in the head, because you were barely hanging on out there.”
Chase’s lips quirk with a wry smile, but his expression is weighed down and tired. “I know how to take punches. And James doesn’t know how to tell I’m softening his blows.”
I think back on the way Chase curved his body every time James came after him, his muscles relaxed, his head hanging low.
“It was all an act? The whole unconscious, suffering thing?” I resist the urge to stand and tower over him, but holy hell, my heart cracked open when each fist landed on his body.
“I had to keep up pretenses. Make them think they’re winning. Not gonna lie, though.” Chase grimaces as he pulls his hand from mine and rubs his chest. “He got in a few good ones.”
I ask softly, “Why’d you let them do it?”
Chase lifts his gaze. “I had to. If I don’t take punishment like the rest of them, what kind of leader will I make?”
“This is all my fault.”
He shakes his head, his fingers finding mine. “They would’ve found out another way.”
I flip my hand, so the pads of his fingers trace the sensitive skin of my palm. “Was I…”
“Were you what, sweet possum?” Chase’s voice contains a tinge of amusement.
I swallow. “Was I right? Was what I said to Mrs. Harrington … to Sabine … true?”
The room becomes so silent, I’m afraid to look up at him. But I force my gaze to meet his. Unwavering. Curious.
He answers with a simple, steady, “Yes.”
“I’m your weakness,” I whisper.
Chase leans forward to cup my face, cringing momentarily at the movement. “The Virtues have been looking for one for a long time. I’ve been masking my emotions, pretending I don’t have any preferences, for exactly this reason. But I’m human. I was bound to break. And I’m glad I broke with you.”
“No.” I clasp his wrist, welcoming the warmth against the chilling consequences of his words. “Not like this. We can’t care for each other when the Virtues are our enemies. Because that’s what they are. The Nobles, too, aren’t they?”
Chase sighs. “Piper died. That’s widened an already fractured divide. Sabine is the Virtuous Queen, and my father is the Noble King. Engaged to be married. Sabine lost it on my father. Accused him of not doing enough to find Piper’s killer, of not interrogating the Noble members. It was all of us at the cliff that night. Nobles and Virtues partying. One of us had to be responsible.”
“But it was Addisyn. Sabine’s other daughter was responsible.”
“Yeah. How’d that go?”
I cringe. “Sabine discovered Addisyn was the killer, and she protected her daughter. Made Addisyn a Virtue to keep her
quiet and shield her from investigation.”
“Sabine blames you. For destroying Addisyn. For almost revealing our societies to the school, the Briarcliff PD, fuck, the NYPD, too, with your relationship with that detective guy.”
“Then why did she accept me?”
“Same reason she accepted Addisyn. She keeps her liabilities close, makes her enemies her friends. She’d do anything to keep her position as queen.” Chase tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, watching me closely. “You need to be careful. You’re not safe.”
“Neither are you.” I study his wrinkled uniform, the blooming bruises along his collarbone. James was smart enough to keep the most damage away from Chase’s face. “This morning proves that.”
“I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. That little show-and-tell they had in the pavilion is nothing. I can handle it.”
I frown. “Whose instruction were James, Riordan, and Tempest following? Your father’s or Sabine’s?”
Chase’s touch strokes down my chin to my collarbone. I hide the little tremble under my skin that follows. “Both.”
“But … I thought…”
He traces lower, until the tips of his fingers rest against the open collar of my shirt. I work to control my breaths. “We shouldn’t.”
Chase gives a sage nod. “We definitely shouldn’t.”
He pops open the button.
“You’re coming off a severe punishment because you went against your orders to manipulate me.”
Chase pauses at my second button, but the heat of his fingers, the promise of him, scores into my skin like a welcome burn. “You watched it. The whole time, you didn’t run. Does that mean you forgive me for ignoring you this past week?”
“I have to believe…” I say in a hushed voice, then close my eyes as he flicks open another button and then another, exposing my bra. “I have to believe that our sex was real. That you didn’t use it as a weapon.”
Chase’s hand goes into one side of my bra, cupping my breast and stroking my nipple. I suck in a burst of air. “Our first time, I wanted it to be about my control over you. And it was.”
Fiend (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 3) Page 9
