Chapter 14 Present #2
If I were capable of taking on anymore “shazam, ta-da” reveals, I’d be bamboozled by this implied relationship that I had no idea existed between Rohan and North.
But as of this very moment, I really don’t have it in me give a shit.
I’ll postpone my reaction to that baffling disclosure of information until later, when I have a moment to breathe.
Damon looks relieved at the news that his dad is okay, and I feel a pang of regret that I haven’t checked in with my friend more.
He’s been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours, and I’ve been so caught up with the Roth twins that I haven’t had the time to spare for comforting Damon about the possible danger his dad could be in, or what it means that he’s been dosed with a drug meant to steal away his autonomy.
I’d feel a lot worse about it if Rex weren’t here to offer that support to his boyfriend.
When Damon exhales at the mention of his dad’s name, Rex shuffles in close and hooks his little finger around Damon’s, an immense amount of reassurance given in the tiny gesture, judging by the look of devoted gratitude Damon sends Rex’s way.
Rohan spends a few minutes on the phone with North, pushing off all of North’s attempts to get solid answers out of the younger man, and bullies our handler into meeting up at a FISA safe house, only an hour away from here.
I want to ask about my aunt, if she survived the OI attack, but part of me also doesn’t want to know if the answer is in the negative.
There’s so much nightmare fuel already spinning around my brain, I don’t need any more anguish to try and psychologically digest.
I catch Dan’s eye at one point and mouth the word “behave” at him.
His mouth quirks up on one side in response, revealing a slightly crooked incisor.
It gives him a wicked, roguish quality that might be attractive if it weren’t so fucking sinister.
Jack catches the exchange but, quite impressively, manages not to smack his brother in the mouth.
The only indicator that he wants to do it is in the marginal shake of his hand.
But he clenches my side instead, fingers digging into my waist, holding on tight like he’s using me to keep his temper anchored.
Rohan hangs up the phone when North is mid-sentence, asking for about the tenth time about Rohan’s general well-being. The phone rings seconds later, clearly North calling back. Rohan wrinkles his nose at it and turns the bloody thing off.
“Come on, then,” he says to us, jerking his head at the van. “Better get moving before that idiot sends a fleet of choppers out searching for us.”
Jack snorts, then gets this glint in his eye that spells so much trouble it isn’t even funny. I don’t have time to cover his mouth with my hand before he’s turning to Damon and asking, “So, how long’s your dad been fucking my big brother?”
Rohan rolls his eyes so hard it looks ridiculous, and he whips around to climb into the front seat of the van without a word.
Damon eyebrows shoot up. “What?” he demands, sounding bizarrely scandalised by the question.
Rex tips his head back and barks out a high-voltage laugh, patting Damon’s arm consolingly before he goes chasing after Rohan, joining him in the front of the van.
I have no idea if that means he already knew about North and Rohan, or if he’s just delighted by the sheer absurdity of it.
I take a purposeful step back from the situation and shove at Dan instead, herding him into the van, leaving Damon and Jack to follow after us because they’re fully grown adults who can look after themselves.
Dan, surprisingly, lets himself be semi-manhandled and even sits next to me on the bench in the back of the van without complaint.
I choose to take that as a good omen for whatever crap storm is about to commence when we get to the safe house.
***
North is waiting for us at the safe house along with Dru, my aunt, and Agent Green as well as a few other nameless agents who are guarding the perimeter.
My shattering relief over Anabelle is short-lived once we start debriefing each other.
North and Anabelle let us go first, telling them the (mostly) full story of what happened with Ian Stone.
In exchange, they tell us the result of OI’s attack on FISA’s base and what came after that, all the information they have on our current position.
It turns out FISA was able to beat back the OI insurgents without too many losses, eventually driving them out, but a lot of people were dosed with the control drug during the attack.
When I ask about how the team Anabelle sent after the machine got on, there’s more bad news.
“So what you’re saying is, Ian Stone is dead, but we’re still royally fucked?” Jack says bluntly, a sardonic expression twisting his handsome face, like there’s a cosmic joke playing out right in front of him that he’s reluctantly amused by.
North heaves a sigh that only sounds about half as annoyed as usual.
He all but picked Rohan up and slammed the smaller man into the porch railing of the safe house when we got here.
It was only the sight of Damon that seemed to stop North from either strangling or fucking Rohan right then and there out of fear over almost losing him.
“Eloquently put as always, Agent Roth,” North says dryly, “but yes, that would be accurate. The location your brother gave us was a trap meant to secure the Liquid Onyx survivors we sent to shut down the drug dispersing machine.”
“And it worked, right?” Jack presses. “All the supers have been dosed?”
“Unfortunately, again, yes,” North confirms. “At least six Liquid Onyx survivors are now under OI’s control.”
Dru frowns, looking up from where she’d been clacking away at her laptop ever since we grouped together in the kitchen. “But will they even be able to follow through on the plan without Ian Stone?”
Jack makes a derisive noise in the back of his throat, and I shoot him a quelling look, jumping in before he can say something scathing and unhelpful.
“Ian Stone might have been king dickhead at OI, but he was never the only dickhead there. Pretty sure the other OI directors will be pushing full steam ahead. We still need to find the machine and shut it down.”
Anabelle stands at the centre of the room with her hands lightly clasped in front of her. She’s as composed as a cathedral statue, not one hair out of place, not a single wrinkle in her green silk shirt or black trousers. She tilts her chin up, fixing first Jack and then me with a querying stare.
“Do you think Dan might know the real location of the machine?” she asks.
Anabelle and North both insisted that Dan could not be part of our initial debrief.
I tried to argue it, but I was easily outvoted, so Dan was taken to a different room in the house and left there.
Dan didn’t seem bothered by the easy banishment, only promising not to chew on the furniture, that signature smirk on his face.
Jack looked torn between wanting to stay with his brother and needing to get as far away from him as possible. It’s becoming increasingly clear to be that however all this turns out, it’s going to be a mess to untangle in the aftermath.
“Maybe,” I say cautiously. It’s difficult to guess what Dan’s real motives are, considering we have no clue how much OI has influenced his decisions. They could have ordered him to do all of this or just some of it, and it’s not like he’d know the full truth even if he was willing to tell it to us.
Rohan pushes away from where he’s been leaning against the kitchen island and crosses his arms, darting a contemplative look at the door to the living room, where Dan is waiting.
He can likely hear this entire conversation, which is why I thought it pointless to keep him out of this meeting in the first place.
“There’s a chance he knows,” Rohan says. “If I ever did, I can’t remember it. There are gaps in my memories, times when they must have ordered me to forget what I saw or did for them. But they had Dan on a looser leash than me and might have been less studious about hiding information from him.”
Rex shrugs from his place next to Damon on the other side of the room. “It’s worth asking. Not like we have much choice here.”
Damon nods in agreement with his boyfriend. “Real question is, if he does know, how can we get him to tell us?”
That question is met with a lot of tense, pensive looks from almost everyone. Jack is the only one who seems to think the answer is obvious. He gives me an aggrieved scowl, jerking his chin at the door, at his brother.
“Go on, then,” he says. “If he’s gonna to tell anyone, it’s you, Leo.” He sounds incredibly mixed up about it, both frustrated and resigned to the inevitable in equal measure.
Anabelle’s penetrating stare switches to me, icy examination in her gaze, like she’s trying to freeze the explanation out of me.
Rohan, having come to the same conclusion as Jack, nods slowly, eyes slipping from me to the door and back again.
“He’s right, Snow. Roth’s imprinted on you like a mutant duckling.
Go seduce my brother into defecting sides, or whatever.
” He smiles at me like an arsehole. “We know you’re good at that if nothing else.
” He doesn’t even glance at Jack, which somehow makes it more insulting rather than less.
I resist the very strong urge to tell him to do one, but only because I feel like he’d find that more entertaining than if I ignore the implied insult.
When I first found out that Rohan is related to Jack, I thought it was mind-blowing, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder how I didn’t see it on my own.
They’re scarily similar in the worst ways.