Chapter 29 #2
“I thought you’d be thrilled at a successful night.” I grimace as I shift against the desk, the pain in my side from the broken rib igniting.
“Usually, yes, I’d be elated. But I thought I made myself clear that she was your sole focus, for the time being.
Only, I find out on the same night that she’s fallen unconscious in my clubhouse that you’re in the rings concerning yourself with flagrant victories and high earnings rather than taking care of her. Where you’re meant to be.”
“So you’re demoting me now? First you sequester me to the rings, and now even that is too much? I’ve been put on babysitting duty?” I snarl, losing all regard to tone as I challenge him.
“You fail to realize how important this is, Aamon.” The bite in his words mimics my own as he leans in towards me. “You see this as a demotion, but I see it as an opportunity.”
I watch him for a moment, blinking. “You knew, didn’t you?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
Andras straightens, refusing to answer my question. But I don’t need him to answer.
I step forward, pointing my finger at his chest. “You knew she was touched by the Arcane before she ever came here.”
“I had my suspicions,” he hums at last. He refuses to meet my gaze, turning instead to look back at her. “Being the Alpha, there’s things you sense. Things you pick up on that others may miss. And I’d been keeping a close eye on her from the first time she entered the ungoverned district.”
“What is this, some sort of sick side project for you? A way to slither your way into Raziel’s role as her father? To groom her into a perfect killer, just like you groomed me?”
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Aandras spits. He’s on me in an instant, fisting my shirt in his hand and pulling me close to his face. “You should be grateful I took you in. Raised you in this life. Had I not, you would have been ghoul food. You would have never survived one night out there.”
“And you’ve been using me every day since,” I sneer, shoving him backwards. “You didn’t take me in out of the goodness of your heart, Andras. You saw something in me that you wanted to exploit. Just like I know you see something in her.”
Andras shakes out his cut from where I shoved him, smoothing his hands over the leather patch that reads Alpha.
“You always were too smart for your own good.
" He laughs, walking over to the chair in the corner and claiming it. My skin crawls with his close proximity to Evangeline. I’m surprised at the sudden urge to protect her, when moments previous I was doing everything in my power to keep myself from ripping into her.
“She’s strong,” he says at last. “I watched the security tapes in the garage. Saw her transform.”
Fuck. I should have turned off the cameras before taking her in there.
At least hid the evidence until I figured out just how much of this I felt comfortable sharing with Andras.
But how was I to know what would unfold with that fucking wraith?
This hadn’t even remotely been on my radar of possibilities.
“I’ve never seen anything like her before," I admit. “Do you understand what she is? Why the Arcane is manifesting the way it is inside her?”
He leans back, stretching his arms behind his neck to hold his head as he watches her carefully.
“Could be a mutation of the Arcane infecting a Watcher. As far as I know, that has never happened before. Could be a ramification of whatever Raziel has been doing to her to suppress it for so long. Either way, she’s something solely unique to her circumstances.
” His eyes flick over to meet mine and I suppress the urge to fidget under his watch.
“I want her on our side of this when things shake out. The last thing we need is Raziel having a sudden change of heart when he inevitably comes to understand the weapon he just gave up.”
And there it is, his true intentions. Because that’s all she is to him. That’s all we will ever be.
He stands from his chair, clapping his hands together, and I startle at the sound.
“So no more impromptu trips to the rings, alright?” he asks, making his way towards me.
I nod, biting my tongue and the will to disobey.
He may be an ass, but he’s right. My attention is needed here, especially if Andras has his eyes on her.
He squeezes my shoulder, his lips tipping up in an approving smile. “Glad we understand each other.”
He moves past me, opening the door and running into Sterling on the other side.
“Sterling, my boy,” Andras’ voice booms through the hallway.
“Glad to see you’ve returned well fed. Perhaps you could teach Aamon a thing or two about looking after his hunger.
” I grimace at the blatant insult, turning away as Sterling brushes off Andras’ jab and sidesteps his large form.
“You’re back.” Sterling's surprise is apparent in his tone as he slips into the room.
“I got bored in the rings. Figured I’d come see how things were faring here.”
He makes his way through the room, taking his seat beside the bed once more. “Fuck, Aamon. Are you okay?” he asks when he finally sees me fully. “Do you need me to get Laurel?”
“Laurel’s seen me already.”
“Yeah, but I mean—why aren’t you healing?” His concern is genuine, which makes it all the more grating. I don’t need him or Quinn or anyone else keeping tabs on me.
“I’m fine,” I growl through gritted teeth. “Let’s spend less time focusing on my bruises and more time focusing on how we're going to help her.”
Sterling slinks back, settling into his chair. “Laurel’s looking. The only thing she’s suggested so far is trying to turn her while she’s out, using something like a bloodbond to overpower her body’s ability to reject the Arcane magic. But we don’t even know if it will work without her consent.”
I shake my head. “We aren’t making that decision for her.”
“That’s what I said,” Sterling agrees. “But if it comes to it, I’m not sure what else we can try—”
“No.” The word radiates through the room. “I’d rather her die than subject her to this life without her say-so.” I know the scar that leaves on a soul. And I won’t partake in repeating such a fucked up cycle.
“As much as it’s not our place to turn her, it’s equally not your decision to make us do nothing.” Sterling’s shoulders tense, his body bristling as he tries to control his temper. “You don’t even know how she feels about it. For all we know—”
“She hadn’t accepted the Arcane yet, so we go off that intel. We don’t turn her.”
“Aamon,” Sterling says after a moment of silence. “You know her father was forcing that shit upon her, right? She had no freedom in his house. No autonomy. For all we know, she didn’t even understand the full extent of the power flowing through her veins.”
“I know,” I sigh, rubbing my thumb and forefinger against my temples.
“But that’s my point. You don’t. None of us do.
There’s so much she’s yet to share with us.
About her power, yes. But also about her trauma.
What Raziel did to her, what he subjected her to.
” His eyes drift back over to her, his hand reflexively finding hers and stroking smooth, even circles against her skin.
“I get the feeling that there’s so much more to her story than we can possibly understand. ”
“All the more reason to not decide shit for her.” My words come out rougher than I intend.
I push off the desk and take to pacing in an attempt to expel the energy thrumming through my veins.
“We need to find another option. There has to be another connection to the Angel’s Trumpet.
Another avenue we can explore to smuggle some into the ungoverned district again.
Sterling opens his mouth, but the words die on his tongue as the door to Evangeline’s room bursts open. Zeke stalks in, bloody and disheveled, with two guns holstered under his shoulders and a machete secured at his hip. There's a wild look in his eye as his chest heaves with ragged breaths.
“Here.” He slams a fist down on the top of the dresser by the door, knocking over the contents spread on top of it and leaving behind a bundle of crushed and withered plant material.
It takes a second for me to recognize them, but as the leaves unfurl, the shades of green fall away to reveal golden-cup flower petals.
Angel’s Trumpet.
“Now fucking fix the girl and let's get on with our lives.”