Chapter 29 #2
“When does he not cause trouble?” She seems to think better of her question and shakes her head.
“Understood.” Jax scoops up the packets, pocketing them before heading toward booth number one. I can feel Caro’s relief grow the farther we get away from her. We navigate our way through dancers, all of whom give Jax a wide berth once they recognize him.
His power reaches from beyond the door I’ve locked most of it behind, little whisps of that shadow-smoke slipping through the cracks, enough for me to get hit with other people’s emotions—fear, intrigue, and a heavy dose of numb bliss.
There are so many people enhanced out of their minds right now, and I have to say, sensing that emotion isn’t half bad.
It’s almost tempting. To not feel for a moment.
Jax draws back the curtain, holding it open for me. “Get in,” he demands.
I awkwardly step inside, noting the man with his arms stretched along the back of a black leather couch.
The space is small, and not exactly in the cozy way, at least not with the stranger sitting there, studying me with a curious gaze.
There’s another small sofa right next to his, and on the opposite side is a wooden platform—more of a box, really—with a pole rising from the center, up to the ceiling.
It’s a more basic version of the dancing booths at Lust, but it’s clearly for the same use.
“You’re late,” the man says as Jax steps in behind me.
I expect a heavy dose of this man’s fear to slice through me, because surely he’s scared to death after accusing the Nightmare of being late.
No fear comes. Just a heavy dose of . . . resentment? Anger? Boredom? It shifts so quickly from one to the next, I suspect he’s doing it on purpose. And maybe he is. Maybe he does it any time he’s around Jax to keep him guessing?
It’s unnerving. I do my best to ignore it.
“I’m never late, Atlas,” Jax says in that icy tone of his. He takes a seat on the opposite sofa, yanking me down next to him. “Some things are more important than listening to you.”
Atlas leans forward a bit, the low light illuminating his features clearly. He has one of those silver contraptions in one hand, drawing it to his lips and blowing out a puff of red smoke a few seconds later as he studies me. I study him right back.
His eyes are gray, the same muted shade as the stick he holds. He takes another drag off the device, the pencil-thin contraption positioned between two fingers. The smoke is sweet and hazy as it curls around his lips on his exhale.
His left arm, which I can now see is entirely made of metal, rests on his thigh.
It’s not the first limb replacement I’ve seen—there are countless people who’ve lost an arm or leg in the mines in the Ashlands—but it is the fanciest. The metal is flawless, looking like it’s made of the same material as the bracelet Axl gifted me.
And it hums with power, no doubt with Occuli magic as he moves his metal fingers.
He doesn’t try to hide the piece, either, wearing a suit tailored to showcase it, leaving one sleeve long and the other cut off.
I wonder how he lost it. He’s got muscles for days packed beneath his silver suit, almost like strength training is his literal job. The only soft thing about this man is his hair, which is a cool blond that hangs just so over his forehead.
“I guess I’d be late, too,” he says, and I blink out of my study at the faint sliver of desire slipping through the man’s boredom, only for it to disappear as quickly as it came. He motions to me with the fingers holding the device. “If I had that to play with.”
Jax possessively grabs my thigh. “Time means nothing when I’m between these legs.”
I shiver at the words, at the spike of Jax’s emotion that bursts on the back of my tongue, a growly sort of possessiveness that makes me go hot all over. I push as much of Jax’s power as I can manage behind the door, not needing the distraction right now.
“You’re the one who asked for this meeting, Jax,” Atlas says, his tone annoyed. How long have they known each other for him to speak so casually to him? “What do you need from me now?”
Jax is silent as he settles deeper into the sofa, leaning back, fiddling with his jacket, not so subtly showing off his blades while he does it.
“Don’t posture,” Atlas says, rolling his eyes. “You know how difficult it is for me to get away to meet you like this.”
My lips part, shock rolling through me for a moment before I lock it down. I’m supposed to be the submissive mate at the Nightmare’s side, not an opinionated one, wondering who the fuck this Atlas guy thinks he is.
“Such sacrifices you make,” Jax says.
Atlas’s eyes snap to Jax’s, the device poised just near his lips, halted there by Jax’s comment. There is something in those gray eyes that has apprehension trickling down the back of my neck—a cold depth that screams shark-infested waters.
“Don’t,” Atlas warns. Warns. Who the fuck is this guy?
Power rattles inside me, begging to be set free again.
I shove it down once Jax releases that slow, sardonic laugh. “You’re right, Atlas. We can play the greater sacrifice game another time. Tonight, I need information.”
Atlas takes another drag off the device. I wonder what the red smoke does, because he doesn’t seem intoxicated. He seems eerily calm. Especially considering who’s in here with him.
“I live to give you information.”
Jax laughs again, this one laced with a hint of his real one, which sets me at ease.
“There’s a new enhancement,” Jax says. “One that’s breaking the minds of everyday Lumathyst citizens. Quite possibly killing them, too. Four bodies have been found.”
And one from the Fader’s memory, too, though we’ll never be able to tell if that’s included in the ones already found or not. The memory was too distorted for me to see much.
“I’ve seen its effects.” Atlas takes another drag off the device. “I call it Tox, because of how toxic it can be depending on who takes it.”
“You’ve seen it here?” Jax asks, casually stroking my thigh.
“No. Caro would never stand for that.”
Jax shrugs. “Had to ask.”
Atlas sets the device down on a little side table near him. “It’s nasty stuff,” he says, folding his arms over his lap, the metal one gleaming in the low light. “I’ve started my own inquiry into whoever’s baking it.”
“Why would you spend your precious, limited time looking for a baker?” Jax asks.
Atlas grins. “I have my reasons.”
What reasons? I want to ask so badly.
Jax stiffens next to me, straightening his spine as he leans forward a bit. “I never like your reasons.”
Atlas shrugs him off. “Once you demanded this meeting, I had a hunch what you were looking for.”
“It’s spreading.”
“An infectious spread,” he says. “Without care for class. Tox ensnares royal and lower equally. More instances in Oak and Iron recently. Have you visited the healers there?”
My heart drops into my stomach.
No. No, we haven’t. Because we’ve been training. Trying to prepare me for what’s to come.
“Of course not,” Atlas says. “Too busy playing with your new toy.”
“No need for the games,” Jax says, pulling out a blade and fiddling with the sharp edge. “We’ve done this too many times, Atlas. As much as we hate each other, we work well together.”
Atlas returns his eyes to me. “I’ve heard things about this new enhancement,” he says, studying me, sizing me up. Almost like I’m a riddle to solve.
“And?” Jax presses.
“It affects people differently.”
“You’re saying not everyone’s mind is broken when they take it too much?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Atlas gives his attention to Jax.
“Some take it and are rewarded with a quick hit of power. More refined than anything we’ve ever seen on the market before.
The power lasts longer and packs a bigger punch before it fades.
Definitely makes it more addictive to those types. ”
I remember the Fader in the cell. The one who could barely string his thoughts together.
“What differentiates these reactions in people?” Jax asks, almost to himself.
“Blood,” Atlas answers, looking to Jax now.
“I haven’t tested the theory for myself.
I don’t have time for that. But I’ve heard whispers that it acts differently for people with power.
Occuli, demis.” He looks right at me when he says it, those gray eyes meeting mine in a curious way before he looks back to Jax. “Maybe even Legends.”
“How does it affect those people?” Jax asks, but his tone says he already knows.
The nullifier. The one the Faders used against them before. Tox and the nullifier are the same thing.
“Takes the power. Possibly to the user’s demise.”
The deaths. The drained-looking bodies. Could the duke have been right in assuming it was connected?
And if that’s the case, then those three deaths in the Ruby Aire and the Sapphire Cove were people with power?
Demis, most likely, since the duke didn’t mention them being Occuli, who are easily identifiable by their eyes.
You’d have to look for a specific mark that could be anywhere on the body in order to identify a demi.
“Probably why the kings haven’t really cared much about it until now,” Atlas continues, drawing my attention.
“Who cares about a few dead demis? With only a handful, they can manage the loss. But widespread? They need those loyal demis and their powers to do their bidding, don’t they?
And even worse, if the remaining demis felt they were being targeted?
They might just rise up. Might take that enhancement for their own and try to use it against the kings. ”
“Fuck,” Jax groans.
“Yeah,” Atlas says.
I’m lost in the whirl of thoughts storming my head. If what he says is correct, it means what I’ve worried about all along is true.
Faders, at least in part, are made up of demis. And my sister is leading them.
It makes sense.
But I hate that it makes sense.
“Can you get your hands on some of this . . . Tox?” Jax asks. I stare over at him, stomach churning.
“Working on it,” Atlas says. “Are we done here?”
Jax nods. Atlas rises from the couch, studying me again while he picks up the slim device and hits it one more time. He blows out the red smoke, eyes locked on me as he stands so still, it makes apprehension bloom on the back of my neck.
“Until next time,” he says, dipping his head to me before turning to Jax. “I’ll reach out if I find anything.”
“Make it quick, Atlas.” There’s no room for argument in Jax’s tone, so Atlas doesn’t respond. He bows, then backs out of the room, disappearing behind the closed curtain.
“Fuck.” I echo Jax’s earlier sentiment.
“Yeah,” he says, reaching for me.
I tuck into his side. “Why would someone make a drug that enhances regular citizens but breaks demis and powerful beings? Quite possibly killing them?”
“The stuff they’ve thrown at us has always been bad,” Jax says. “We knew it, because it was enough to nullify our powers and injure us in the process. But for those with less power? It has to be so much worse.”
“So either it’s the Faders baking it, or they’re getting it from someone who is also selling it to regular citizens,” I say. “There are too many questions around it all. I don’t like this.”
“I don’t, either,” Jax agrees. “Atlas, prick that he is, will bring it to us if he can track it down. Once we have it, we can figure out what it is. Hopefully make an antidote.”
“Ivy can help,” I say. “She’s brilliant with medicines.”
“I’ll make sure she’s on it once we have it.”
“And in the meantime?”
“We wait.”
“The worst.”
“Lucky for us, we have a lot to do.”