"How long?" I ask.
He tilts his head in question.
"How long do I have to give you a reason?"
He brushes my cheek with his knuckles. "You mean, how long do you have to find a way out of this? You're out of time, Jess. That's all I'll say."
He leaves me then, and I stand in the middle of the room feeling foolish, out of place and cold—not to mention more confused than before I got here.
I really, really, should have taken his blood. Aren't I the one who said I needed his blood, or was Blake the voice of reason? Do I always have to be so bloody stubborn? I already was shivering and now I'm standing in what might as well be a friggin' refrigerator. But, on the bright side, there is alcohol here. Copious amounts, quite pricey, and he did actually say it was possible to drink it—didn't he?
I meander until I find a nice 1942 merlot.
Bottoms up.
I don't really feel much on the first sip. Or the fifteenth. It's exactly upon the sixteenth swallow of the third merlot that the world around me spins. I giggle and clutch the rack, watching helplessly as the bottle (a 1942 as well, in case you need to know) crashes to the floor.
"Damn," I say seriously, kicking a glass shard with the toe of my boot.
"You are going to wish you hadn't done that," a voice says softly behind me.
I turn to see a figure in the shadows. I can't make him out very well, but the helmet in his hands is visible enough and it's unmistakable. How long has Trinity been gone, a couple hours, max?
I flash a sarcastic smile. "There are a lot of things I wish I hadn't done. Like, you, for example."
"You don't mean that."
"Really, I do. I can't even begin to imagine how you could hate someone enough to do what you've done to Jacelynd. Were you friends with him, too? Or have you always been mortal enemies?"
"We aren't talking about Jacelynd. We're talking about you," he says simply."Are we? Let's. Let's talk about trust. Let's talk about how much of my life as I know it was spent believing a lie. How could you possibly think this would do anything but make me hate you?" Dizzy, I find my way to the floor and sit with my back against the wall and my legs stretched out. "Ugh." I lie back and close my eyes.
"You don't hate me nearly as much as you think you do." Trinity slowly paces, his heels clicking in a steady rhythm.
"Stop moving around so damn much." I hold my hand out like it's going to help. "Where's Blake?"
"Later."
I scoff, "If you're waiting on that answer, it's no. I won't give you a reason. You lost me, Trinity. My heart belongs to Jacelynd."
"Then why did you leave him?"
His question feels like a brick falling on my chest. He sounds so wounded and that doesn't make any sense. "It isn't like that, I—"
"But it is. By the second time you left, you knew exactly what your past with him was and you left anyway—no goodbye, no questions. Barely a note, which was an afterthought at best."
I laugh, partly because the alcohol is most definitely having an effect on me and partly because this is insane—this whole conversation. "You speak of love like you know it but you haven't any idea what it feels like. I love him deeply. I think I always have. And you will never be even a fraction of the man he is. So go ahead … "
He tries to interrupt me but I keep right on going.
" … microwave my brain, do whatever it is you do when you're stealing my thoughts. You can have my body. It's useless at this point anyway. And just so we're clear, I left because I knew Jacelynd doesn't know how much I've changed. I'm not as fragile as he thinks." I hold my injured hands up as proof and am met with silence. "Don't be glib about this. You're the bloody saint who taught me how to shoot off a set of cuffs."
"I taught you a lot that Jacelynd wouldn't approve of," he remarks. "What did you dream? Were they that inconsequential?"
"You wouldn't be interested. And who told you about the dreams?"
"I'm quite interested."
I go to pull another bottle from the shelf above me when he stops me with a gloved hand over mine. I still can't see him clearly. "Fine. You want to know? The last dream I had was the two of us in some castle. I was sitting in wet jeans beside a fireplace. He was lecturing me on something and I wasn't listening, and instead of letting him continue to prattle on, I took his mind off whatever it was he was upset about. Sound like reality to you? I've heard, in no uncertain terms, that I was somewhat weak-willed and fragile before, not quite the girl I am now."
"Actually, yes, it does sound like reality." He seems amused, and yet still perturbed. "You're under the impression that Jacelynd doesn't care for the qualities in you that you believe are new, but have you asked him? Have you asked him how you were behind closed doors?"
No. "Why? I don't … ugh, forget it."
"No, I want to know."
I rise to my feet with great difficulty and he just stands there, watching me struggle. "I don't give a damn if you want to know. It isn't any of your business. It stopped being your business after you forced me into a Blood Tithe. We've already talked about all of this, why are you bringing it up again? Wasn't it painful enough for you the first time or do you want a review of what you were so close to having but lost through your own capriciousness?"
I totally just used a gargantuan word while plastered. Epic.
Trinity exhales with a long controlled breath. He's always had a temper, but he's never cared about holding back. This is weird.
I sit back down, deciding the room has far too much gyrating going on for my taste. "Go away."
He doesn't move.
"If I wasn't so drunk right now, I'd take care of your removal from this room myself. I hope you know that."
Finally, he grants me a low laugh. "You think so? I doubt you can even stand without assistance right now, let alone take on Trinity, who has more than a hundred pounds on you at least. Drinking, right now of all times, was an incredibly stupid, childish decision. Show me your hands again."
I sit up, narrowing my eyes like it's going to help the merlot fog swirling in my head. Looks like Trinity. Sounds like Trinity. So, unless he's started referring to himself in third person, we have a problem. This isn't Trinity. "What?"
The figure, dressed surely enough in Trinity's black riding leathers and holding his helmet, steps out of the shade and into the dim light of the cellar.
"Jace?" I hold out my hands as instructed and he inspects them.
"And I'm guessing you refused his blood out of principle when he offered it?" He waits until I nod to add tersely, "We don't have a whole hell of a lot of time here. Quinn and Liv followed Damian. I found Blake before I found you. He's taking care of our exit."
I look up, folding my hands into my lap and scowl. He doesn't sound anything like Trinity, how could I have mistaken him? "I don't understand," I murmur.
"You expected him," he says curtly. "Come on. Unless you want to stay here. Which, come to think of it, could be a possibility."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Now he's just being mean. "And why did you let me assume you were Trinity?"
"The door was unlocked, Jessi."
Lose it
"He wouldn't have me by the arm," I whisper. I can't see Jacelynd's face, but I'm sure the look he's giving me isn't pleasant. He lets go for a second, only to grab my arm more forcefully when I stumble.
"He would if you were drunk," he rasps.
The mansion is flanked by guards, who assume based on my reaction that the helmeted vampire, who is practically dragging my ass down the hallway, is Trinity. Jace now has the visor flipped open enough to not raise suspicion, but it's still risky.
A tall, lanky, well-groomed blond man steps toward us. Without hearing him speak, I know it's Oran, Trinity's head guard. He's been at the estate since Trinity made—well, since he appeared to make Cleric. Despite my usual level-headedness, my heart rate races at his approach.
Oran leans in low. "My Liege, I gave Blake the keys as you asked
. He's at the southern border of the estate. But, hurry, once Trinity gets back and realizes his clothes are missing, he'll know what's going on. You don't have long."
I'm too drunk, I think, to comprehend what's being said. Surely. Because there is no way I am hearing what I'm hearing. "Oran, you—"
Jace forces me on ahead and through the double doors. "Jessica, not now."
We get outside and the wind feels shockingly cold. I pause only to regain my breath, but Jace thinks it's for some other reason.
"If you aren't sure where you want to be, just tell me now," he yells. This catches the attention of the three guards nearest us, who I am fairly certain don't share Oran's treasonous loyalties. Judging by their suddenly solicitous glances, anyway.
"Trinity! Stop being such an ass. You know I hate riding with you on that piece-of-shit bike. You should be content that I'm going with you at all." This is likely something I would and probably have said around the guards before, so it's only a matter of seconds before they go back to minding their post.
Jace stands mutely looking away from me for a moment before turning around. "I would apologize, were it in my nature. Sadly, as you pointed out, I'm an ass," he says loudly enough for our company to hear.
He stays silent until we reach the Hummer, where Blake is waiting in the back seat. Jace opens the driver's door and leaves me to make my way to the passenger side on my own. Blake notices and leans into the front seat to push my door open.
"I would have gotten out, but I don't want anyone to see me," Blake says, sending Jace a bravely censured glare.
"It's all right. Trinity wouldn't have opened my door normally, we're trying to not get caught, remember?"
Jace takes the keys from Blake and puts the Hummer in reverse. I want to point out that Trinity never drives himself, but whatever. Jace clearly isn't in the mood to discuss anything of value and I'm three shades past plastered. But instead of feeling sleepy, like a human would, I feel like I'm on speed.
"Iris was—" Blake starts to speak, but Jace abruptly interrupts.
"I know where Iris is," he says firmly. "She arrived back here just as Damian was brought in from where he'd purposely gotten himself caught. We'll wait to discuss just how impetuous your decisions were once we find out Damian's condition, if he lives through this. I haven't heard from Quinn."
Blake sits back into his seat quietly and Jace waits a few minutes before speaking again.
"We were supposed to leave the mountains the next morning, Blake. We already couldn't use a commercial terminal and now we're going to have issues getting past customs since Trinity has started the virus scare. I knew this was coming, but you didn't give me the chance to tell you. Jessica still doesn't have a full grasp on my personality, not enough to anticipate my behavior, but you have centuries' worth of memories to judge me on."
Blake swallows loud enough that even I hear it and says his next sentence like it's a grave revelation. "The gate. You were flying to Ireland."
"I was going to send someone after Damian, but he is responsible for his own decisions. I won't risk Jessica's life over his inability to see what is plainly in front of his face."
"I'm sorry, Jace, I was just worried about him."
I want to say something, but I don't know that it would do any good. And I am apparently not included in this conversation. Which, come to think of it, irritates me. "Hello! I'm drunk but I'm still here. Care to clue me in on what you're talking about?"
Jacelynd doesn't miss a beat. "Care to clue me in on your plans next time? Perhaps before you leave in the middle of the night?"
Jessi? Are you doing all right down there?
Jacelynd's expression instantly shifts. "Be careful."
"Thank you! I know that!" I huff. Do you have any more 1942 merlots?
I have three of them. Why?
Ummm. About that …
Jess, are you drinking? He laughs, and though I don't want to admit it, it's a welcome sound compared to Jacelynd's anger.
What else am I supposed to be doing? While you're out there ending the world, I'm stuck here with nothing but alcohol and my self-restraint to keep me company.
Never a good combination. Have you thought any more about our discussion?
Blake looks at Jacelynd, then at me, then back again. "Trinity?"
Jacelynd mutters something under his breath that I can't make out, then says aloud, "We're ditching this car in a few. Get ready."
Why do you think I'm drinking?
I know you, Jess. I know your desires, your dreams and all those things you never felt like you could tell Jacelynd.
Jace looks like he's going to come out of his seat. His hands are gripping the steering wheel so hard that Blake leans up and offers to drive.
Jess, listen to me. All of this will make sense. And I know that your heart has already made up its mind. Have you even tried the door?
We have driven out of the city, passing through two CDC checkpoints on the way (getting out of D.C. is easy, it's getting into a quarantined area that's a dilemma), and are surrounded by neighborhoods, much like the one where Belladonna is. Without warning, Jace pulls off of the road and into the woods. Woods that feel oddly familiar to me.
I don't know what to tell Trinity. If I tell him I haven't opened the door, he'll expect me to. You told me not to do anything stupid. Didn't we already establish that Blake's life means more to me than my own freedom? I know it's unlocked.
We get out of the Hummer and before Jacelynd can say anything, a figure crawls out of the forest. It's Quinn.
"Where is Damian?" Blake asks.
Quinn gasps for breath as he speaks. "We can't get to him. I've never seen anything like this place. I couldn't find any vehicles, nothing. I might as well be a mortal. And they have Liv." He is still limping a little from having his leg broken in Hades. "They didn't see me, but when Liv tried to use her ID to gain access, it all went bad. She's supposed to have complete clearance, Jace."
I'll be back shortly. And I expect a decision by the time we meet again. I can't wait any longer, Jess. Please, remember what I said. I love you.
Jacelynd closes his eyes and turns away. He's surprisingly calm, but I know it's nothing more than lifetimes of practice at controlling his emotions. When he faces us again, his features are completely quiescent.
I, however, could care less about controlling my emotions and now we're playing a game I don't care to lose. I'm still inebriated, but the hyperactive part of this odd reaction might actually play in my favor. Or get us killed. "Quinn should never have been sent on a mission in his state. If you have Oran under your command, then you must have had other options." I lift my hand to Jace to stop his opposition. "Where are we?"
"Callmadus," Quinn says, clearly having discovered why coming here was suicidal.
I laugh and it probably appears like the alcohol is getting to me, but it's because I now know why the woods feel familiar. "The Covenant training center! And you tried to use an ordinary ID here? Do you know anything about how Trinity's masses are organized, or is it your intention to send those loyal to you, those you think you love, to their deaths?"
Jacelynd doesn't look hurt by what I've said—he seems unaffected. "There are thousands of cells just like this one. How could I have known?" His expression darkens a little. "What would I not give for you? My life—done. My heart—already yours. I don't think that I love you. And for you to even pose such a question tells me that it's more than you know."
In his defense, all the training centers function the same and unless you are high enough in the ranks, you wouldn't know the difference.
"A little research goes a long way," I say, wounded.
"She needs blood, Jace," Blake says from behind me.
I've moved so far beyond cold that I'm beginning to forget what warmth felt like, but I have more important things to do and I'm not taking Jacelynd's blood right now. Period. I shake my head.
"Okay, how far are we from the compound?" Blake asks.<
br />
I answer, "If we're where I think we are, about two miles or so. Maybe less."
I feel a hand on my shoulder. I assume it's Jace. "Take Jessica on to—"
I spin around, effectively removing his hold on me. "Let's get this over with, shall we? You can't fight an entire cell of Covenant assassins by yourself, whether you're royal blood or not. I know the layout and I know what they're capable of."
"There are things you don't know that directly affect this," Jace says. "And yes, I did think it would be easier to grab Damian, but there's no point in discussing that now. I need the three of you to go on to … " As he is telling me in no uncertain terms that I'm weak and fragile, he makes the mistake of touching me again. Husband or not, he's a man and sometimes men need to be put into their place.
I lift my arm to place enough distance between us for me to lay a spin kick to his knees and leave him flat on his back. Unfortunately, having the distance to accomplish this doesn't mean it will happen. Just another fine reminder that correlation does not equal causation.
I have my body halfway twisted into the kick, when Jace casually whispers something unintelligible.
This unintelligible word, any other day, would mean absolutely nothing to me. Today, it means I am thrown to the ground and rendered categorically helpless. He immediately bends down to make sure I haven't been hurt in the process, but I know something is off. I felt the power of his speech. This isn't like Trinity's powers. I don't know what the hell this is. Clearly Quinn didn't hear Jace.
"Are you drunk? Is she drunk? You've got to be kidding me." Quinn stares at me in wonder.
Blake takes my left arm. Jace has my right, and they help me back to my feet. Blake furrows his brows in confusion as Jace addresses Quinn, and it makes me wonder if Blake has sensed it too.
"Yes, she's drunk. And we don't have time to deal with this. You're all going to have to trust me. I need to do this alone." He looks at Blake sternly. "The very fact that we are here is because you didn't trust me the last time."
Icarus; The Kindred (A Paranormal Romance) Page 12
