Chapter Eight #2
He had detected streams of numbers and equations.
He couldn’t decipher their meaning when both upside-down and quickly rushed from view, but nothing, he guessed, that would be considered stupid.
He swallowed down the words that crawled up his throat.
Ground his teeth down to keep sentimentality from spilling.
“There. All clean. See, now my desk looks as spotless as yours.” She stood with her hands on her hips while he noted the scattered pencil shavings, the disassembled parts of her structure—which had been rather impressive, though he had kept any acknowledgment to himself—scattered not from a fall, but disordered placement, and a small tray full of crumpled up notes.
He spied no similarities between her version of ‘spotless’ and his.
Though he made no comment. A dig at her expense would only lead to a potentially heated exchange and he was already in danger of labeling her declaration ‘charming.’
Distance was required to preserve her safety.
He glanced over her shoulder. The shadow hovered like an omen.
Still distant and vague, yet, maybe it was a trick of the light, but it was more solid than before.
Cole solidifying plans? At least the visual eased his conscience.
He had not compromised his Sense, not yet.
Sera shuffled around the desk and then attempted to pass him, which he dodged—though not in time to avoid the shock of her perfume.
“Ready?” She was breathless and he sensed that she was embarrassed about her work. Still, he would not press if she did not wish to share.
His eyes followed Sera to the stairs before slipping back to the desk.
An awkward silent ride awaited. Every second in her company tested him and he feared he would eventually fail.
It was for her sake, more than anything, that he keep his distance.
While reflecting on the stolen kiss conjured shame and regret, he found he could not avoid it for long.
Inevitably, he’d recall the pressure of her lips, her taste, relive the cascade of pleasure even as his stomach soured at the thought.
That stolen kiss had revealed how easily he could lose himself, forget his obligations and concerns, forget, even, Sera’s very safety.
He knew his purpose in life and the great sacrifice required.
But, gods, he had never hated the unfairness of it all quite so much as he did now.
They departed the carriage in front of Gideon’s town home.
Sera had nodded off somewhere around Fairmont Street and she didn’t know how long after arriving Kieran had allowed her to sit there drooling before her chin slipped from her hand.
Was he that set on avoiding her? She felt afflicted, like a single touch would infect him with a deadly virus and his only protection was to double down on the detached asshole persona.
Kieran climbed the stoop ahead of her and knocked.
The door was identical to the others in the row of modest homes and Sera noted the lack of chipped paint or cracked brickwork.
She had never seen Gideon’s home before, but it was finally registering just how drastically different their lives had become.
Sera sighed as they waited in more awkward silence. Wherever she moved, Kieran slipped that much further away. She focused on the door while they waited.
What the hell was keeping her brother? He had invited them here.
Maybe she had allowed the fissure between her and Gideon to carry on too long. They were essentially strangers. She had no idea what to expect when he opened the door—probably a mess, if his habits from childhood hadn’t changed—and with so much distance dividing them it seemed impassible.
For so long, it was her and Gideon against their mother, holding each other up when mother’s words kept beating them down.
Then Gideon had gone away to school—a special academy, only for guardians—and then he enlisted in the Demon War and then he’d joined the Watchmen.
Always moving, always leaving her behind with nothing but a lack of self-worth and a propensity for poor decisions.
He’d reached out numerous times since returning to Unity, but never without a lecture or judgment.
At first, she’d been too embarrassed to tell her well-established Captain of the Watchmen brother that she was a failure, but then, his incessant self-righteousness lording over her had been equally unbearable.
Gideon answered the door after several minutes. He stepped out, glancing back and forth at the street, before ushering her and Kieran inside.
They entered a cluttered, but humbly decorated foyer with a deep-toned color scheme and homey touches.
Hooks on the wall holding coats and a full uniform on a hanger.
Boots in various states of wear and a small end table to hold keys or mail—yes, the mail was overflowing from a bin to the table top and even to the floor, but the fact that he had a little bin for his mail at all was shock enough.
Had Gideon matched the walls to the trim?
She took in each detail with growing surprise.
Gideon tucked his hands into his pockets, frowning. “What? What’s with the face?”
Sera gestured at the foyer as she stopped just short of the stairs.
To the left was an archway that opened to a sitting room, the color scheme continuing and complemented by the couch and chairs.
She noted the odd piece of clothing lost in a corner or poking out from beneath furniture, but otherwise the place looked newly cleaned. Had Gideon… cleaned for them?
“First, I need you to tell me something only Gideon would know,” Sera said.
Her brother frowned. “What?”
“Come on. I need to make sure you’re really my brother and not some look-alike impostor.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“I just… I can’t believe that you live here. Don’t tell me you decorated this?”
Gideon crossed his arms. “I did, actually.”
Sera raised an eyebrow.
Gideon rolled his eyes. “I approved the design, but that still counts.”
“Ah. So this is Rachel’s work?”
“I don’t see why that matters. I had the final say.”
Sera snorted. “Gideon, it’s your house. You should have had all the say. Whyever would it be Rachel’s job to pick out your décor?”
He huffed, adjusting his shoulders. “Can we just move on to what matters? I didn’t invite you here to pick apart my home.”
Kieran hovered behind them, studiously keeping out of their bickering. Sera might have tried to ease his discomfort, but, honestly, let him suffer.
Gideon motioned for her to enter the sitting room and as she stepped fully into the space she noticed that it wasn’t empty. A man stood in the adjoining dining room, out of her line of sight when she’d been distracted by the uncharacteristic state of the house.
The man’s curls of brown hair were parted at the side so that a lock hung over his forehead. He was built like her brother, same thick shoulders and muscled arms and legs. There was a wild, adventurous air about him. Or, perhaps that was just the effect of the pistols holstered at his hips.
The man gave her a devil-may-care smile and said, “Well, now that the party’s all arrived, anyone want to tell me why the hell I’m here? And let’s start with the as-promised payment. What amount are we talking?”
“Miles Harrow, I presume?” Sera began.
Miles’s eyes met hers and then swept up and down without reservation. “You know me. But I do not know you and I make it a point to be acquainted with beautiful women. You are?”
“Sera,” she replied, keeping her tone abrupt and business-like.
Her plan was to appeal to Miles’s rumored decency.
Yes, his reputation as a prolific rogue was equally popular gossip, but Sera was determined to not resort to her charms. She wanted to start making better choices and even though Miles’s face was far from unappealing, she couldn’t summon a shred of desire for him.
Plus, her brother was watching. They may not get along, but he’d probably gouge his own eyes out if she started throwing herself at Miles.
“Doesn’t ring a bell, but I never forget a pretty face—yours especially.” He threw her a wink as he continued, “So, begs the question, how do you know who I am and what do you want?” There was something genuine about his tone that made his obnoxious flirting less irritating.
Still, Gideon tensed. His hands left his pockets and balled into fists at his side. Sera set a hand on his shoulder, putting herself between her brother and Miles so he wouldn’t do something rash.
Kieran, however, crept up without a sound and fluidly stepped in front of Miles. Was she imagining things or was deadly ferocity hidden in his eyes and the precision of his movements? “We need you to deliver a message to Thaddeus Wraith. You will be properly compensated for the trouble.”
Miles backed away a step, hand flying to his pistol. Sera had not expected hostility from Kieran, and as she watched Kieran’s hands return behind his back, she thought she spied tension in the set of his shoulders. Like he had used great restraint and hadn’t fully recovered.
“Oh, is that all? You should have led with the most dangerous name in Unity. Would have saved me a trip to whatever awkward reunion is going on here.” He gestured to the room.
Sera left Gideon to set a hand on Kieran’s arm.
Kieran’s silver eyes shifted onto her with the speed and intensity of a predator who had just caught the scent of its next meal. Like prey, Sera was momentarily stunned.
“Also, I’m more of a mercenary. Soldier of fortune. Hired muscle. My services are wasted as a postal courier. Thought that was well established by now.” He chuckled, and when no one laughed, pursed his lips. “I can see we’re a lively bunch.”
“We need you for your proximity to Wraith,” Gideon said, moving in with his arms crossed.