6 Deranged Pyscho
My wrists ache. Pressure, burn, the numb throb of circulation being cut off. My eyes snap open.
Panic surges fast as I try to move.
My arms are stretched above my head, wrists bound to the headboard with a thick cord. My ankles are secured, too. Spread just enough to make escape impossible. The mattress dips beneath me as I shift, testing, and the cord bites deeper.
My breath stutters.
“Stop.” The voice is rough and slurred.
I freeze. Jace is sitting at the edge of my bed.
His jacket is gone, shirt half-untucked, a few buttons popped open, his tie undone and hanging around his neck. There’s a glass in his hand, amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. His knuckles are white where he grips it too tightly. He doesn’t look at me right away.
“I said stop,” he repeats, quieter this time. Broken.
My heart is trying to claw its way out of my chest.
“What the fuck?” My voice shakes despite my efforts to keep it steady. “Jace. Untie me.”
A humorless laugh leaves him. He tips the glass back, drains it, then sets it down on the nightstand. Like he’s afraid sudden movements might break something.
Or someone.
“I told them not to leave me alone,” he mutters. “Stupid of them.” He chuckles. “Gave me time to find the good shit. Lucian’s lock was child’s play. Not what you’d expect from the head of the Guild.”
My pulse roars in my ears. He finally looks at me.
“So, are you going to get me killed, too?” I glare at him.
His eyes are glassy. A swirl of anger and grief, with a touch of…guilt? All blurring together under a sheen of alcohol.
“No,” he shakes his head and blinks a few times. “I could never.”
“Then why the fuck am I tied to my bed?” I tug at the restraints again.
“Because I need you to listen.” He hisses as his stormy eyes bore into mine.
“Untie. Me.” I try kicking my feet.
He stands and paces, running his hand through his hair.
“You know I hate being drunk? I usually only have a glass to take the edge off, but today? Today, the edge just wouldn’t dull.”
“Jace…” I try to keep my voice calm, “Let me go, please.”
“I hate the feeling of not being in control.” He flexes his hands.
“Ravencourt.”
“You pushed me, Isobel, you keep pushing me away. Why do you do that?”
“Jace!”
“What?” He stops pacing to look at me.
“If you don’t untie me right now. I’m going to scream.” I stare him down with a confidence I don’t feel.
Jace sighs. “We both know you won’t. Screaming won’t do a thing. No one will hear you. Your room is soundproof.”
He shuffles closer, putting a knee on the bed.
Come on, Jace.
The next thing I know, he’s straddling me.
“You’re so stubborn.” He chuckles. “Isobel, you need to listen to me.”
“Fuck you, Jace.”
His hand covers my mouth, “Shut. Up.”
I open my mouth and bite the palm of his hand. He barely flinches.
Deranged psycho.
I bite harder.
“You’re a monster!” I’m not sure the words even make sense to him.
He pulls away, hurt strewn across his features. We stare at each other in silence.
“You sound just like her.” His voice is low and rough. “My mother. She left when I was eight. She told me that she didn’t want this life. Couldn’t watch Gideon turn me into a monster, like him.”
My eyes scan his face. He looks…small. Almost childlike. His face is open, and I can see the young boy who just wanted his mom and her love.
“Did she ever come back?”
His head gives the smallest shake. “No. My father made sure of that.” He exhales, slow and controlled, forcing the air out.
“I’m not a monster, Iz. I’ve worked hard to not be what he wants. Some fucking clone. I know I have my faults, but I would never have a hand in killing the people I love. Not like Tex.”
My chest constricts.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Jace pushes himself off me.
“The fact that you thought I was capable of having someone I considered a brother murdered…I’ve never been so enraged in my life.” His words are clipped as he keeps his back to me.
He rakes a hand through his hair, making it stick up in wild, uneven tufts.
“I’ve done terrible things,” he continues. “I’ve hurt people who deserved it. I’ve crossed lines I can’t uncross.” His jaw tightens. “But I don’t kill the innocent. I don’t sacrifice my own.”
He finally turns back around.
His eyes are burning, not drunk, not unfocused. Furious. Wounded.
“And you looked at me, and decided I was just like him.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I didn’t—”
“You did.” He cuts in. “The second you imagined that giving you my ring was a part of some scheme instead of a precaution.” His laugh is humorless. “You thought I was capable of helping Daniel put a bullet in Tex and calling it a strategy.”
Silence presses in around us.
“You know this isn’t okay right?” my voice is quiet like I’m talking to a wild animal.
“I know,” he says hoarsely. “I just needed you to hear me out.”
I chew on my bottom lip.
“Can you tell me what you were going to say that day, please?”
He leans against the wall, his head thrown back. The soft lamp light highlights every muscle and vein that I can see. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
“I wanted to tell you how I feel. That…I’ve never felt this way before. This urge, this draw towards you. I can’t begin to explain it. If Tex were here, he’d tell me to speak up or shut up. Probably laugh at my expense.” He huffs out a dry broken laugh.
“But it’s not that simple.” He keeps his eyes locked with mine. “You got under my skin, like you were eating me alive. My darkness recognizes yours. You’re mine. You will always be mine. There will never be anyone else. Not for me.”
It feels like someone sucked all the oxygen out of the room. It takes a moment for my brain to remind my lungs to breathe with his eyes holding mine this way.
Jace pushes off the wall, putting a knee on the bed. He leans over me and runs a hand down the side of my face.
“I know you feel it too,” he whispers.
My breath hitches. He has me tied up and just a few hours ago I accused him of helping kill Tex. How can I manage to still feel something for this asshole?
He’s right and I hate it.
There’s always been something here, even when I deny it, even when he acts ridiculous. That strange draw that made me grab him after the cage, some crazy current between us. But right now, right after losing Tex, it feels wrong.
“No.” I tilt my chin up. “I don’t.”
He smirks.
“I’ll be here when you stop lying to yourself.”
He leans up and starts undoing my restraints.
“I was wrong, I’m sorry.” I say.
His gaze snaps to mine.
“Not about that.” I roll my eyes. “Earlier. I just got in my head about things, thoughts repeating over and over. It made me feel…a little bit crazy.”
My hands drop, finally free, and I immediately bring my arms down, sighing in relief. I rub gently over my wrists.
“I’m not trying to replace him. No one can. We’ve always been different. I just want the chance to show you I can be what you need.”
I blink as he moves to untie my feet.
“What?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Just…don’t assume the worst of me. Please.” He gives me a small smile.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be so polite before.” I prop myself up on my elbows.
He gives me a small laugh.
“What’s that saying? You catch more bees with honey?”
The massive oak doors swing open. The chamber lit with the usual torches. The twenty masked members surround the table, with Lucian standing at the head.
Our boots echo across the floor as the door shuts behind us with a low thud.
I lift my chin, refusing to let any one of them think I’m weak.
I’m expecting Lucian to speak, but a feminine voice speaks from somewhere beside him. “You were tasked with securing a prototype.”
My shoulders are stiff. I want to roll out the tension. It was supposed to be simple.
“Correct.” Jace answers.
Jace’s hand brushes mine, the lightest graze.
“You adapted to a compromised route.” Another masked voice speaks.
“Daniel ambushed us,” I say.
“There was no way to foresee him. We followed the intel provided,” Noah adds.
The silence stretches.
“The council agrees,” a man says. “Thus, we have decided the last mission served as your third initiation task.”
My eyes widen, and I look to Lucian. He gives me just the smallest fraction of movement.
“You have shown your dedication and capabilities. You handled an impossible situation and came out the other side.”
Not all of us.
I will the sting to recede.
“You were outnumbered. Outmaneuvered. And at one point,” his eyes flick briefly to me, “out of options. You didn’t panic.”
His attention shifts to Jace. “You were under fire and you all held your positions. You made the difficult decisions. Even losing one of your own.”
He pauses. Letting his words sink in before continuing.
“The Guild does not measure strength by who can just complete missions. It’s measured by how you handle unexpected situations.
How you carry the weight of consequence and continue forward.
Loss is not failure. Failure is learning nothing from it.
You will carry this, it will inform every choice you make from this day forward. And that is why you are ready.”
Lucian turns to address the council. “These initiates have demonstrated tactical proficiency, strategic adaptation, and operational cohesion under lethal pressure. They have shown they understand what the Guild truly demands. Choices. Sacrifice. Consequence.”
He turns back to us. Four members of the masked break off from formation and move towards us, their long black cloaks giving the illusion that they’re floating rather than walking. They stop in front of each of us. I stare into the black abyss of the mask’s eyes.
“Take off your jackets.” The woman says. I recognize her voice.
Savvy. Something in me eases.
I quickly take off my jacket and fold it over my left arm as clicks sound from behind her, a case is presented as Savvy reaches inside, ripping open an alcohol wipe.
“Please present your right arm,” Lucian says.