42. Lex
LEX
Her intense blue gaze snaps from the open torso to me.
Her eyes flash something dangerous, and the air cracks with tension.
It's the first time she’s shown any reaction to my words.
It doesn't matter how many times I poke. She’s at the top of her game this morning.
She obviously woke up thirsty to push me to my limits.
Perhaps the fuckery last night gave her strength.
My cock stirs at the premise of providing her a much-needed service.
I never cared enough about anyone to notice their needs before, but with Sable, I think I do.
Even more so, if what she needs is my cock down her throat.
“Not really.” She surprises me by answering.
I force my gaze to remain where it is, working even as I push her once again. “That doesn’t sound very certain.”
The newspapers made money off her tragedy.
They called her family cursed, and the mediocre words they strung together were journalism.
I’m not interested in what the newspapers have to say.
This version is more interesting than anything I’d read in their paper.
A fragile-looking girl, strong enough to swim and defy the current, quick to free herself from the car, and smart enough to know she couldn’t save her father.
Something is intriguing about her, and I hate to admit it, but it grabs my attention more than my own work.
“He put us there at the bottom of the river,” she says.
“But you got out.” I decide to share just one part of my thoughts. “You didn’t take him with you.”
“I couldn’t,” she says too quickly, but I hear the guilt in her tone, so I simply wait quietly. “He told me he killed my mom.” It doesn’t sound remorseful or angry. She spills the words in a matter-of-fact tone that makes me hungry for more.
“Revenge would be understandable.” I give her a way out, the sense of mercy making me unrecognizable to myself.
“You obviously don’t understand if you think it was revenge.”
My goal in life was never to be understood or to understand others.
Yet this situation perplexes me, and I’m too curious to let it go.
It would be easier to understand if she let him die out of anger, but she’s right, I don’t get it.
All I wanted from this interaction was to kill my own interest in her, to prove that she’s just like the other people, mindless ignorants slaves to their urges.
“Then what was it?” I demand, my irritation growing as this interaction seems to do the opposite.
She tilts her head to the side, watching me. “Have you ever experienced a betrayal that deep, Lex? Something that crosses every single line and boundary you thought existed? I sort of doubt you have.”
I’d love to tell her she’s wrong, but she’s not.
My family are snakes, liars, and thieves, but I am one of them and my father's only heir. He wouldn’t kill me or even seriously risk me because that would endanger the Morwen name.
His concern isn’t loving or even personal, but the outcome would be the same. No one has ever betrayed me that way.
“Would it have been different if he didn’t kill your mother before driving you off the bridge?
” I ask, and her mouth pops open at the question.
I don’t assume that she loved her father.
Not many people do in our circles. Mothers aren’t far behind, but they are more often loved.
Despite myself, I’m only growing more curious.
“Why don’t you tell me what exactly it is you want, Lex.” Most people don’t even realize I’m toying with them, and I admit I’m impressed.
I glance up, my eyes fall to her fat bottom lip as her straight teeth graze over it. Her allure is a little too powerful, and I try my best to shake it off. “All I want is for you to answer the question correctly.”
“I don’t have a script to follow, Lex. I’m just telling the truth.”
“Then tell me why you swam to the surface and left your father behind.”
Sable sighs and bites the inside of her cheek as she thinks about it. She seems bothered by this memory, but not me, and I’m elbow-deep into a body. She doesn’t tremble, vomit, or complain.
“Because if I didn’t, I would be dead right now, and I don’t kill easily, apparently.” Her voice fills with her power, and despite how small she is, I feel it rolling off her.
“Yet it wasn’t revenge,” I press as I hand her the pancreas. This time, I make sure she’s ready.
She lifts one shoulder and places the organ on a tray. “I didn’t plan on getting revenge, and he put himself in that position, but no, I didn’t try to save him,” she says the words like they weigh a million pounds, but they’re still not what I’m searching for.
“You didn’t plan it,” I agree. “But are you absolutely sure you didn’t get something out of it?”
Her eyes flash to me, shining with amusement, and I realize just how far I’ve overplayed my hand.
She leans over the cadaver, elbows grazing the open cavity.
“And what is the answer you’re looking for, Puppet Master?
Do you want to hear that I’m heartless and was happy to let my father die, or that I just acted out of instinct to preserve my life? The truth means nothing, right?”
I click my tongue. “I don’t expect anything from you, especially not the truth.”
She laughs. It’s sweet and melodic and doesn’t belong in my dark room.
Sable is too warm, too beautiful, too smart.
Her qualities keep stacking, and I’m wondering if I should simply step away and refuse to interact with her, before I start seeing the Offering as something more than that.
She’s under my skin now, her mystery forcing my eyes back to her, my gaze tracing her jaw and cheek.
What makes a father create something this beautiful just to try to destroy it?
He probably didn’t know his daughter well.
He assumed she was weak like him, that she would crumble under the destroyed Briarwick reputation, but Sable is obviously the stronger one in her lineage.
Every person would give up when their own father tried to kill them, and every person would wish for death when the scandal made it to the newspapers.
Yet that’s not her. She’s something completely different.
“Tell me, when are you going to feed me?” She changes the subject.
I bite back a chuckle, my eyes still cast down, even when it’s difficult. Why is she talking about food when guts are spilling between us?
“I’m not as soft as Orion.”
She laughs. “Yes, I’ll let him know you called him soft.”
The idea of her gossiping with Orion is interesting to say the least. Over the past six years, we have had all types of Offerings.
The stoic kind, the one who thought she was smarter than us, the eager to please, and the one who played favorites to try to pit us against each other.
It never worked. But Sable has more of an effect on us than any of them have, and that’s why Hadrian’s arrival worries me most.
My expression falls flat, and my eyes return to work. “Pay attention,” I snap, thinking of all the ways the combination of the two of them could tear us apart.
My sense of control seeps through my fingers and into the ether.
I can’t tell if it’s her or Hadrian doing this to us, but change thickens the air around Bellthorn, and I hate it.
Scalpel in hand, I peel the skin along the hairline.
Switching to the bone saw, I open the skull to retrieve the brain.
A series of careful cuts later, I slowly lift the organ from the cavity, and rather than handing it to Sable, I place it on the scales and make a note of the number.
“Why do you do that?” she asks, reminding me she’s still here.
“Weigh the brain specifically?” I ask.
“All of the organs.”
“You can identify things through the weight of the organs. Anomalies, mostly.”
“What about cause of death?” she asks.
“That and a combination of other things will give us a good clue.”
She hums under her breath, sounding genuinely interested. I let another moment of silence between us, and then I sigh, already frustrated with the words I’m about to say.
“If you have another question, just ask it.”
“Because you’re such a good teacher?” she mocks.
“I’m at the top of my class and a teacher’s assistant.” My eyes find hers. “You should make sure you’re on my good side after this year.”
“For when I’m free to make my own choices?”
“Yes,” I grit my teeth, seeing that she’s taunting me, proving she has some power and that I’m not as quick to be rid of her as I would hope.
“Fine, I noticed there was something almost like sand in the stomach cavity.”
My chest puffs, satisfied with her question, but our time is nearly done, and it’s a complicated answer. I dive into the explanation, then bring her to her room. As I lock the door, I start feeling like a year is not enough time.