by Theresa Kay
Adam leads us between two buildings and into the industrial section of the city. He slows now, staying close to the structures and pausing before crossing the road to get to the next alley.
Rym drops back to walk beside me. “Where in the blazes is everyone?”
“I was asking myself that same question. Could your father have called a meeting? It appears awfully convenient timing for this mission, but perhaps they planned it that way.”
Rym’s brow furrows and he presses his lips together. “If it was a meeting important enough for most of the city to be there, he would have wanted Stella there too. There must be something else going on.”
I shrug. “It does not matter as much as not getting caught.”
“True. But it makes me uneasy. Not only were they able to secure your sister apparently undetected, they were also able to locate and travel to my residence. They must have more inside help than they are letting on.”
“It makes me uneasy as well. All of this seems a bit too convenient. We are, however, committed to this course of action now. If nothing else, they are taking me to Stella, and I imagine Adam, at least, is just as anxious as I am to ensure Jax’s safety.”
Rym shrugs and nods in agreement.
We walk in silence as we follow the party ahead of us. Adam takes us through numerous turns between buildings until we reach a large food warehouse not far from the barrier. He leads us inside and we quickly maneuver to the far corner away from the door.
Adam leans against the wall. Two of the others follow suit, and the rest lower themselves to sit on boxes.
My gaze darts to each one. “After all that secrecy, this seems rather anticlimactic. What in the blazes are we doing here? I thought we were meeting up with your other team.”
Matt shrugs. “They’re late.”
“They mentioned they ran into some complications,” says Adam. “So we wait.”
“For how long?” asks Rym.
“Until they arrive,” says the E’rikon I have learned is named Linx. “Otherwise the mission will be worthless and Karo and I will have risked our lives for nothing.”
I settle against the wall with Rym beside me and raise an eyebrow. “Risked your lives?”
Karo sends his comrade a dirty look. “Be quiet, Linx. Do you not realize the risk of speaking openly in the presence of Virym Linaud? We would face emhasin if his father received so much as a whisper of what is going on here.” He turns his narrowed eyes on my cousin. “I still do not understand why he is here. It poses too great a risk.”
As pleasant as it is to not be the bad guy for once, I feel the need to speak in Rym’s defense. But he beats me to it.
“Look, guys. I don’t have any more love for my father than you do. I am just as appalled at what he has done as anyone, and I have been working to try to fix things. Ask Lir.” He holds his hands up by his chest. “I’m assuming since he has not gotten the icy glares, you might still have some respect for the Vestra line, correct?”
Both sets of dark eyes move to me. “I had respect for Stellan,” says Karo, “but I am uncertain what to believe about his son. I have seen nothing but weakness from him. Steliro supported Vitrad’s plans until it no longer suited him—because he wished to maintain a relationship with a half-human girl. Then, when things did not go his way, he stood by as Vitrad took over the city. Afterward, he was too ashamed to show his face. Now it seems as if he has once again changed loyalties as circumstances have shifted.”
A shocked half-laugh issues from my mouth. “Is that what you think? I supported Vitrad’s plan with the human initiative when I was blinded by rage and grief and I thought it was the only way. My father convinced me otherwise—and so I was left in the woods to die. My relationship with Jax had nothing to do with my no longer being supportive of the initiative.” Anger brews in my stomach and leaks into my words. “And I suppose my parents’ deaths are what you referred to as ‘things not going my way’? Vitrad had them killed. Then he set up the humans, Jax in particular, as well as myself, to be blamed for it.” I stalk forward until I stand directly in front of Karo, my chin up and my shoulders back. “I would have loved to have shown my face over the past few weeks, but I was a little too busy with the kiun. He had me locked up. He has held my little sister’s safety over my head, and this is the first time I have had any hope of getting her out of that situation. I have done the best I could with the information and resources available to me, and my cousin has provided invaluable assistance. I do not know what more we can do to prove our intentions.”
Karo smiles softly, as if in triumph and admiration, then lowers his chin in a nod. “I see some of your father’s strength in you now. I will trust your word, heir Vestra.”
I run a hand over my face and shake my head as my ire cools. Was that meant to be some kind of test? If so, it appears I may have passed, but what did it earn me? Perhaps I have gained new allies just in time for them to be worthless to me. Though I cannot imagine they will be staying in the city after this. And neither will I. The thought brings a subtle sadness with it. I have spent nearly half my life here. Everything familiar is here. But the safety and security of… home… is gone.
Feeling almost defeated, I sigh and sit down on one of the boxes to wait.
JACE STANDS STIFFLY IN my arms for a moment before relaxing and wrapping one arm around my shoulders. The hug, if you can call it that, is… half-assed and weird. What is wrong with my brother? I release him and take two steps back, studying his face with my head tilted to the side.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
One side of his mouth twists upward. “Thought you could use my help, sis. Last we ‘talked,’ I was a bit out of it, but I figured you might be in trouble.”
“A bit out of it?” Shock and confusion make me take another step back. “You were… gone. You were…” I move away, shaking my head.
He throws his arms out to the side and spins on his good leg. “Just fine now, though. Right?” Jace’s voice… it’s wrong. His face, his words… It’s him… but not. And since Lir did something to the connection between us, I can’t reach his mind.
The calm I felt at his presence, the warmth of reassurance… those things are gone. A cold sense of alarm nips at my toes and crawls up my spine.
“What happened to you? What was that before?” I’m unable to keep the anxious edge from my words, and the half smile drops from my brother’s face.
He takes a breath to speak, but the sound of a drawer sliding open pulls his gaze over my shoulder. To Dane, I assume.
“The deal was you were not to hurt her,” Jace says as he stalks forward, stepping around me and advancing on the man behind the desk.
The deal? What deal? My breaths come quicker and my mouth goes dry. Simple anxiety makes way for ice cold trepidation. I have no idea what Jace is talking about, but I’m beginning to think I might prefer to keep it that way. Whatever’s going on isn’t good, and my brother is clearly neck deep in the middle of it.
Dane leans back in the chair and folds his hands together over his chest. I can’t see my brother’s face anymore, but if the look on Dane’s is any indication… it’s not something I want to see. Dane’s eyes widen slightly—he almost looks scared—but then he wipes all expression away. He waves one hand in my direction. “Look at her. She’s not hurt.”
“Not hurt?” A guttural snarl. Hands spread wide, Jace leans across the desk, yelling into Dane’s face. “I heard what you said. You broke her! That was your doing!”
Dane’s shoulders jerk, and the chair pushes away from the desk. His mouth curls into what could be a sneer… if his eyes didn’t betray his fear. “I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.”
Jace straightens. Rolls his shoulders back. Cocks his head to one side. And in a near seamless movement, he snakes one hand to the sheath strapped to his thigh and pulls a knife from it. The… warning?… trapped in my throat has no time to escape as Jace plants his other hand on the desk, leans
forward, and in one sweeping motion, pulls the knife across Dane’s throat.
For a moment, Dane stays upright, a look of astonishment frozen on his face even as a jet of bright red blood spurts from his neck, raining over the desk. Then he collapses forward in a heap, his forehead and one arm coming to rest on the desk.
My mouth drops open, but no words make it past the shocked disgust twisting in my stomach.
Jace… snorts. He laughs. And he wipes the knife on his pants. “I know exactly who’s in charge here,” he mutters. He jabs one finger into the side of Dane’s head. “And it’s not you.”
“Jace?” Flint’s voice cracks on my brother’s name. Whether it’s his father’s shocking death or Jace’s actions that put that odd mixture of surprise, disgust and… horror into my friend’s voice, I have no idea.
Jace’s head shoots up, his face speckled with blood, and he turns to—no, turns on Flint, taking one step forward with the knife still clutched in his hand. “How could you let this happen? I trusted you.”
Confusion furrows Flint’s brow and he shakes his head. “I didn’t let anything happen. I was getting her out of here. I just—”
“Liar!” The word is a rabid snarl edged with white hot anger. And it’s so unlike my level-headed brother. He’s one for cold calculation, cutting words, and sarcasm—not this blind rage. That’s more my style.
Jace takes another slow step forward. I finally shake off the frozen stupor keeping me locked in place and dash forward until I’m between the two boys. Raising my hands in front of my chest, I face my brother. “Jace, no.”
The struggle is clear on his features, in the twisting of his mouth and the clenching of his teeth. “Get out of the way, sis.”
“No.” I cross my arms and widen my stance. “I—”
The door flies open and bangs against the wall. I jerk at the noise. Jace flinches, and in that fraction of a second his face relaxes and a million different emotions flash across it. Guilt. Horror. Terror. Revulsion. Pleading. Then he’s stone-faced again, all trace of humanity wiped from him, as Jastren steps through the doorway.
Dropping his chin to his chest, Jace relaxes his arms at his sides. “Yes, Grandfather,” he says. He moves to stand beside Jastren, his gaze directed firmly toward the floor.
A group of men file in behind Jastren. A few of them have familiar faces, but most are strangers to me. What the hell is going on? My eyes dart from my brother to my grandfather to the men as concern soaks into my bones. Instinct screams at me to pay attention, to be ready for anything. Forget the bloody scene behind me, the real trouble is what’s in front of me. This seemingly calm and collected group that includes my family—that’s the danger here.
I move back a step, closer to Flint. At the movement, Jastren’s hard gaze falls on me and a sharp, stabbing pain begins at my temples. It’s poking, prodding, and jabbing at my head, first on one side, then the other, then both at the same time. I press my lips together and curl my nails into my palms. Whatever’s going on, I’m not letting him in my mind. Not after Lir’s warning. Not after seeing my raging brother turn into a meek, compliant pet at Jastren’s appearance.
I manage to squeeze two words past the pain in my head. Not… happening…
My grandfather’s eyes narrow at my resistance, but his gaze doesn’t falter, and with an unspoken command I don’t hear but feel, Jace’s eyes come up to meet mine.
The doubled onslaught against my mental defenses is too much to withstand stoically. I press my palms to the sides of my head and close my eyes. “Stop it,” I whisper, taking another step backward and colliding with Flint’s chest.
Flint places one hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing to her? Jace—this isn’t you. Why are you doing this? Explain it to me.” I can’t see his Flint’ face, but I can hear his stricken expression in his words.
“I have to know,” mutters Jace. “I have to know if he got to her. If she’s with us.”
“With you? Of course she is.” Flint releases my shoulder and slides around me. “This is Jax you’re talking about. Who could have gotten to her?”
“Vestra. He’s bad. Can’t trust him. He shut me out. He took her. He…” The pressure against my mind lessens. I open my eyes to find Jace with his eyes squeezed tightly shut and shaking his head from side to side.
Flint moves forward, approaching my brother as if he were a frightened animal. “Nobody took her. She’s been with me. And you know I’d protect her with my life.”
Jace’s chest rises with a deep breath and then descends in a whoosh. He nods softly. “Yeah, I know that.”
Taking the agreement as encouragement, Flint takes another step forward. “You were hurting her. Lir helped her. That’s all. Just like you would have done if you could. Believe me, I’m not horribly fond of the guy either, but I’m pretty sure he’s in love with your sister. They’ve even got that weird alien connection thing going on, so I don’t think he’s capable of hurting her.”
Jastren’s mental assault stops, and he turns to look at Flint, his face twisted in a strange mixture of livid and intrigued. “Alien connection thing? Do you speak of the bond?”
“Yes…” The single word echoes with hesitation.
Jastren presses his lips into a thin line and sends his gaze back to me. “Is this true, Jasmine? You bonded with the Vestra heir?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, gliding forward until he’s directly in front of me. “And yet you managed to keep that from me. How is that? I thought it was because of your… issues, but there is more to it. And now you are capable of keeping your brother, your twin, out. It should not be possible. How have you been able to close your mind so effectively?”
“I. Don’t. Know.” My answer pushes out between gritted teeth.
He makes a clicking noise with his tongue and tilts his head to the side. It could almost be called a look of concern if not for the coldness in his eyes. “Why are you so angry? I am your family, and I have done so much to help you. I apologize for my attempt at intrusion earlier, but I was unsure where your loyalties may lie at this point, and I need—we need you on our side.”
It’s my turn for narrowed eyes and cutting words. “And what side is that exactly? What is your goal here? Lir said you’re dangerous.” My shoulders are straight, and my breath comes in quick pants as heat rises inside me. “You’ve been lying to us all along. You said the E’rikon couldn’t manipulate emotions, but you can. It’s one of your little enhancements. And you did something to Jace. I don’t know why you’re here or how you got here, but your influence over Jace ends now. I’m taking my brother and getting out of here.”
Jastren blinks once, slowly. And his expression changes into something I can’t name, something that quenches the fire of my anger and freezes the breath in my throat. He shakes his head softly and a mocking smile spreads across his face. “You will not be going anywhere. And as you have probably noticed by now, your brother will do what I instruct him to do.”
“You’re lying! I saw him fight off your influence just now. You don’t have total control over him.”
Jastren turns his head and jerks his chin in Jace’s direction. “True. If he is too far away or my attention is not fully directed at him, or if I ask him to do something he is entirely against, he can disobey me. For now. But so much has changed since you departed from the residence of that chattering fool.” A wry chuckle.
Oh God, what has he done to Peter?
“You would be surprised how much of that anger is actually his own,” Jastren sneers. “I simply give it direction.” His expression hardens, and a repugnant sense of self-satisfaction leaks from him. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order?”
A demonstration? The word sends dread to coil in my stomach and shrivels any confidence I had in my own words. Somehow I doubt he’s going to make Jace hop on one foot or some other stupid task to prove his level of control. My eyes fly to my brother, who looks slightly wilted as he stands within the confines of Flint’s arms.
&
nbsp; There’s no verbal command—not that I expected one—and the meekness instantly drains from my brother. Jace looks up at me over Flint’s shoulder and winks at me, his mouth twisting into a sinister smile. That simple gesture and the similarity it shares with the expression on Jastren’s face is more damning than anything Jace has said or done since he entered this room.
An act. The “fighting off” of Jastren’s commands, the release of his mental grip on me, the ease with which Flint talked him down… it was all an act for my benefit. But to what end?
And that moment when Jace’s shattered soul flashed across his face? Was that an act too?
Flint hasn’t noticed the change in Jace’s demeanor. He’s still there with his arms wrapped around my brother and speaking softly in his ear. As I watch the tender moment, realization comes crashing down. I understand the point of Jace’s act. I know what Jastren’s end game is here, and what exactly the demonstration will be…
“No!” My shout does nothing but pull Flint’s attention to me as Jace takes the knife still in his hand and shoves it into Flint’s stomach.
THEY’RE GONE. AS SOON as Flint crumpled to the ground, Jastren turned without a word and left the room. Jace followed. I barely registered the click of the lock behind them, but it doesn’t matter how trapped I am when I’m sitting here holding my betrayed and bleeding friend.
Anger. Fear. Despair. It’s an endless cycle in my fractured psyche, and I can’t choose which to go with. Do I rage against the circumstances and come out swinging? Do I sit here quietly in the corner and hide from the thing my brother has become? Do I cry and wail and give up hope as my friend lies dying?
