Chapter 9 #2
I give them both a droll, bored look that would likely get another anima struck.
They’re both intimidating males, hulking slabs of muscle, midnight dark beards and combed hair over tanned skin.
Titus’ heavy black brows are drawn over his dark eyes, and he looks exactly like he did the last time I saw him at the Jewel of the Jungle when Xander had a meeting there. And I had been naked.
This seems to be fresh in Titus’ memory as he sits down, placing a laptop on the table.
His new steel jaw can’t smile—the exposed metal teeth make their own permanent awful smile—but his eyes can still leer at me well enough.
“Nice to see you with clothes on, Lia,” he says in that new, rigid, metallic voice.
Beak shifts at his overfamiliarity. “Not a word, Beaky,” I tell the eagle in his mind. To Titus, I say, “You were running the last time we met, were you not? I’m so glad you made it home safely after Xander almost killed everyone.”
“Ah, yes. Xander Drakos,” Titus says. “Wasting away in one of Katerina’s tiny cages. He’s probably getting fucked up the ass by one of the beasties she has in there. What I’d pay to see that on video. In fact…” He gets out his phone and makes a show of typing out a text.
“Quite obsessed with that, aren’t you?” I shoot back, sitting back in my chair.
Titus opens his mouth, but his father waves an impatient hand as he sits. “That’s enough.” His voice has a hint of alpha-command that rakes along my skin, and his gaze is ever so hard on mine.
“Says the brother-killer,” I respond flatly.
Tiberius Clawson, as hardened a mob boss as Scythe, has a face of stone.
“Let me be frank with you, girl,” he says.
“You are exposed. Without mates. With many enemies. There is a giant target on your back, and there is nothing you can do to stop the dark powers of the world from doing what they want with you.” I remember The Collector’s threats.
I know what she would have done to me. Tiberius claps his hands.
“We will provide you and your animas with protection. We will ensure the multiple dangers that are after you are kept at bay.”
My brows rise. “In exchange for what?”
Titus snaps his metal jaw, dark eyes glinting.
“You. I gave up an inadequate regina. But I’ll have you as a mate.
It’s a win-win.” Sow dissent, break us apart.
My stomach sinks at the words that will slash at my sweet, best friend.
Titus leans back in his chair. “Minnie used to talk about you all the time.” He puts on a high-pitched voice.
“‘Lia is kind. Lia is the best person I know. The bravest.’”
My heart clenches. “I am loyal to my friends, Titus. I would never betray Minnie’s trust.” My face twists in disgust. “Something you could never hope to understand in this life. You or your kin-slaying father.”
Tiberius snarls. “You are out of your depth, little girl. You don’t know the powers you’re playing with. Death and worse are knocking at your door.”
I huff through my nose. “You forget one crucial thing, Clawson.”
“And what is that?”
I lean forwards in my seat. “Those powers. That serpent who raised me taught me a thing or two before he cast me out. I don’t need you.”
Tiberius sighs and gestures to Titus. “We thought it might come to this.”
The brute becomes excited, his movements quick and eager as he opens the laptop before him, presses a few buttons, and swings it around so I can see the screen.
Ice trickles down my spine as I register a grid of camera feeds.
I recognise the location immediately. “At least Xander was good for a couple of things when he switched sides,” Titus remarks.
“Got us a live feed from inside Animus Academy. But look here—” He clicks on one of the smaller feeds, enlarging it so I get a night vision view of what looks like one of the caverns under the premises.
Two males—lion students I recognise—are standing by large pipes, looking at their phones, the screens lighting up their faces.
Titus gets out his own phone and dials. We watch the taller lion answer.
“Do it,” Titus barks before hanging up.
The animus on the camera feed sticks his phone in his pocket before getting out a screwdriver.
“What are you doing?” I snap.
“Tampering with the academy water supply,” Titus says smugly.
The lion drops his screwdriver and holds his hand out to the other, who gives him a bottle of something he proceeds to squirt into the plumbing.
“Old fashioned toxin,” Tiberius says. “Just like you, we learned from the best.”
They mean my father. Poison has always been the serpent’s weapon of choice. I shake my head in disbelief. “The school is dragon-made. It won’t allow you to—”
“It won’t be able to purify the water in time,” Tiberius says. “Not with how much we’re dumping into its system. Oh! Look, dinner service is running.”
Titus cuts the camera to one in the dining hall where students are lining up at the buffet and several of them are in line for the cordial that Theresa is filling at the tap.
Stacey is at the head of the line, with Gertie and Henry on her shoulders and Eugene tucked under one arm.
She takes a cup of cordial and drinks. I suck in a breath.
Nothing happens. Stacey walks towards our usual table and sits down. “Any minute now,” Titus drawls.
And it does take a mere minute for other students to collect their jugs and drink from their glasses.
I can only watch as Stacey goes rigid in her seat, reaching for her throat.
She sways, the ever-watchful males from the surrounding tables frowning.
Stacey collapses to the floor at the same time as another student behind her.
Minnie makes a choked sound from behind me.
I leap to my feet at the same time Titus does. But he’s snarling in Minnie’s direction. “Piggy!”