Chapter 27 #2
“And leave your mom to sit here all by herself?” I countered. “You know me better than that.”
He pivoted toward the fridge, unloaded the bag’s contents quickly, then made his way to the breakfast nook.
Under the table, I used my foot to push out the chair opposite me.
He dropped into it, holding my gaze the entire time.
Pink patches on one side of his face and his shaved skull marked the healed burns that had blistered his skin a week ago.
“Kit came by to offer his condolences,” Marsha told him.
I nodded. “I wanted to see how you’re handling everything.”
“It’s been hard,” he concurred—or pretended to. “It was very sudden. There hasn’t been any time to grieve.”
Marsha gave him a concerned pat on the arm. “Always putting everyone else first, Benji. You need to take some time for yourself.”
“If you need to talk or get anything off your chest,” I added, leaning forward, “I’m here for you.”
Kade didn’t reply, offering me only a mild nod. A lull hung over the room. The wind outside had picked up, and the ocean was battering the shoreline.
After a moment, Marsha broke the silence. “Why don’t I make you some tea?”
She pushed back from the table and stepped away before I could concoct a reason to keep her seated, but Kade didn’t leap up to sweep his dearest mother out of the reach of the scary home invader—or lunge across the table to snap my neck with his bare hands.
Instead, he braced his elbows on the table and let every burning ember of hatred he felt spill across his face. “How?”
Letting go of the artifact in my pocket, I grabbed a tiny glass vial stashed in my pants storage. Vinny would be proud.
I set the empty vial on the table beside my mug. “A recipe I picked up in Barcelona.”
With a flick of his wrist, Kade telekinetically pulled the vial into his hand. He inspected it for a second, then sniffed its interior. “Well done.”
“Your boys left a few behind.”
He checked his watch. “How long have you been here?”
“Feels like no time at all.”
He flicked the vial back at me, then leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You don’t need to pretend, Morris. I know you want to kill me. I don’t need access to your mind to feel it.”
I didn’t disagree. He was right.
“So why the fuck are you sitting here—”
“What are you two whispering about?”
Marsha had just turned the electric kettle back on, and she was watching us from across the kitchen. Kade started to rise from his chair.
“I wouldn’t,” I cautioned. “Let’s play nice, Benji. No need to upset your mom, right?”
His jaw clenched so hard that the muscles in his cheeks pulsed. It looked like this patricidal psychopath’s soft spot was even softer than I’d thought.
“Would you like another cup, Kit?” Marsha asked.
“No thanks.” I smirked at Kade. “I’m all set.”
He bared his teeth.
The kettle whistled, and a few moments later, Marsha set a steaming mug in front of Kade, added a spoonful of sugar for him, and returned to her chair.
Once again, Kade contained his murderous rage. The way his expression kept morphing was unnatural. It didn’t seem human. Not that anything I’d ever seen from Kade conformed to the norms of a socially functional Homo sapiens, but this was next level.
“You know, I’m a little offended, Benji,” I said, my tone layered with good-natured teasing. “Your mom has never even heard of me, which means you haven’t regaled her with any stories of our adventures.”
Marsha’s eyebrows arched with curiosity. “Adventures?”
Kade’s blandly pleasant expression twitched. “Since joining Internal Affairs, all my ‘adventures’ have been long layovers and paperwork.”
“Oh, come on, Benji, don’t be so modest. You get up to way more than mere paperwork, especially with your recent promotions.”
“Promotion?” Marsha repeated.
“Plural,” I said breezily. “One earlier this year after his superior got demoted.”
Or rather, decapitated.
“And then a big one just last week,” I finished, watching Kade’s reaction.
Marsha turned to her son. “Is that true?”
He gave a performative sigh. “Yes, but it’s not a big deal.”
“Congratulations, Benji!” She swatted his shoulder playfully. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His expression darkened—not in the way I was used to, full of malignant barbarity, but in a more deliberate way. “I didn’t think it was appropriate to celebrate my own accomplishments right now.”
“Oh, of course.” Her happiness deflated. “I’m sorry, Benji.”
My stomach turned as the two versions of Kade—the murderous Consilium thug and the doting son—came into focus. Not as separate personalities, but as the same malicious, controlling man with a thin veil between them.
“Maybe we should talk about something else,” I suggested, feigning a lightheartedness that I in no way felt.
Inside my head, a faint glimmer of warmth sparked. Feeling trickled into my brain like sensation returning to a numbed limb. Then pinpricks of real sensation appeared as Marsha’s mind blinked onto my internal radar—a benign signal of Arcana ability.
“Yes,” Kade agreed, his lips curling into another pleasant smile, now hardened with that nightmare edge I knew so well. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
And there was his mind: an ugly blaze of power infused with a new overbearing neurological flavor of archmythic magic.
Building pressure latched onto my mental defenses, so intense that I was instantly clenching my jaw. The potion that had dampened most of my psychic abilities—and more importantly, shielded my mind from Kade’s clairsentience and all his other shiny new psychic powers—had run its course.
Kade took a slow drink of his tea, his eyes locked on me over the top of the tilted mug. The pressure on my brain sharpened into a rough voice.
You crossed a line, Morris. And for every minute this goes on, I’ll add a new way to torment you before I end your miserable existence.