Chapter 49
Isit with my arms crossed, feet up on Aamon’s desk as I await his return from the Esbat celebration.
I pull a pack of cigarettes from the breast pocket of my cut, grabbing one between my lips and lighting it hastily.
The smoke grounds me, and I take several more drags as I lean back in the rickety old chair, staring up at Aamon’s ceiling.
I try not to let my mind linger on what exactly it is he’s doing to celebrate tonight. Seeing Sterling disappear beyond that red room door was punishment enough. But I can’t help the way my mind wanders as the minutes tick by, the thought of my Sterling with them—with her.
It should have been me enjoying his company tonight.
The door opens, causing me to sit up. I take another drag from the cigarette, making the end glow orange. It gives away my position—the only light in the otherwise dark room.
“Ezekiel.” Aamon’s voice is low, satiated. And it makes me sick. “You were missed tonight.”
I lean forward, fingers flexing as I resist the urge to punch him square in the jaw for bragging about what he’s taken from me.
“Not missed enough to keep you lot from having a grand ole time without me, it would seem.” I make a show of checking my watch, clicking my tongue against my teeth.
“It’s three hours past sunrise. Reckless of you to keep the fresh one out so late, is it not? ”
He hums, his lips tipping up. “Kind of you to be so concerned. But she was fed well enough.” He’s practically assaulting me with his words, making sure to let me know just how much I missed out on. “A little sun wouldn’t damage her too badly.”
He must see my disdain, because the smirk on his lips grows as he leans against the wall, watching me. “But I know you’re not here to check up on her after Esbat. So what brings you to my room—uninvited?”
I hold his gaze for a moment, taking another pull from my cigarette before snatching the papers off his desk and tossing them haphazardly onto his bed. He cocks his head, letting his eyes linger on me for a moment before dipping down to the pile of papers between us.
“While you were busy fucking the High Quarter whore’s brains out, I was made privy to some information I think you’ll find interest in.”
“And what is that?” All of the amusement drains from his voice.
I nod towards the papers and he takes a tentative step forward, reaching out to pick up the top few.
“It seems that daddy dearest has been plotting against you.” I think about my word choice, before correcting myself.
“Technically against her. But I figured with how close the two of you have gotten, I’d lump you in too. ”
“What is the meaning of this?” he asks, flipping through the papers. His eyes wander over the text, trying to make sense of it.
“I overheard Andras going after Laurel in the alley behind BloodLust tonight for disobeying orders concerning the girl. So I figured it was high time to do some snooping.” Aamon raises an eyebrow at me but doesn't interrupt.
“The clubhouse was essentially vacant with everyone celebrating Esbat, so I figured there was no time like the present.” I rise from my chair, pulling the cigarette up to my lips and taking the last drag before snuffing it out in the ash tray on his desk.
“Imagine my surprise when I found a whole paper trail of correspondence between Andras and Raziel.”
Aamon’s eyes cut hard to mine, narrowing. “That can’t be.”
I shrug. “That’s what I thought. But the proof is in the pudding.
Or the paper, I suppose.” I gesture to the stacks of letters dating back years spread out atop his mattress.
“If you ask me, Andras has been plotting things with Raziel for quite some time. I’d dare to speculate the two of them are colluding.
One keeps the mortals secure and content while the other keeps the Arcane-touched in line?
If you think about it, it’s the perfect system. ”
“But Andras hates Raziel. We’ve been at war with him for longer than I’ve been alive.” Aamon shakes his head, looking back down at the papers in his hands.
“Perhaps.” I bob my head back and forth. “But war keeps people disjointed. Fearful. What better way to keep the territories of Requiesse separated and the Arcane-touched suppressed than to keep them at war against each other?”
“You’re erring on the side of blasphemy, Ezekiel,” Aamon says carefully. “Those are heavy accusations to throw around based on a few letters.”
“Damning letters,” I correct him. “Read them for yourself if you don’t believe me. Come to your own conclusion.”
Aamon runs a hand over his face, skin flaring red as the implication of what I’m sharing sinks in.
“But my point in coming to you tonight was not to convince you of the sinister plot at hand within Requiesse. I have my own opinions on the Watchers and I’m not here to make anyone believe the same as me.
I’m merely here to warn you. He’s actively planning something, Aamon.
Something with Raziel. The girl is not safe here. ”
Aamon takes to pacing the room, mumbling under his breath as he processes all I’m sharing.
“You don’t believe me.” I click my tongue against my teeth.
“Hasn’t it struck you as odd that Andras would accept her so easily?
She is the daughter of Raziel, after all.
Andras doesn’t have a kind or sympathetic bone in his body.
He doesn’t do anything without it benefitting him, one way or another. ”
Suddenly, he turns on me, lifting a finger to my face. “You’re sure this has nothing to do with your sudden absence from Sterling tonight? Some way to get back at him for spending his Esbat with her rather than you?”
I purse my lips, lowering my gaze. “My troubles with Sterling have nothing to do with this. Forgive me for thinking you’d like to know if the girl was in danger.”
“Why do you care? You’ve made your stance on Evangeline quite clear. Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I thought we’d both made that stance, Aamon.
Yet here you are, spending your Esbat between her legs.
” I cock an eyebrow towards him. “Besides. It doesn’t matter what I think.
Sterling has insisted on pursuing her. Which means if she’s in danger, he’s in danger.
When Sterling loves something, he loves with his whole being.
And I have no doubt he would easily give up his life if it means saving hers.
And I don’t want him to be the thing standing between Andras and the girl. ”
Aamon crosses an arm over his chest, papers folded against his ribs as he rests his jaw in his other hand. His knuckles pass absent-mindedly over his mouth as he thinks. “So what would you have me do with this?” he asks. His eyes are wide. Disbelieving and yet uncertain. Helpless.
“Send her away,” I say after pausing for several moments. “Make her leave. Not just the ungoverned district, but all of Requiesse.”
He scoffs, throwing his hands in the air as he takes to pacing again. “I can’t do that, Ezekiel.”
“Of course you can. She’s bloodbound to you, is she not? She will have to obey a direct command from you.”
“It’s not that simple.” He drops onto the bed, letting the papers fall to the mattress with the others as his head hangs in his hands. “If I do that, it will wreck her. I cannot repeat what her father did. I won’t hurt her like that.”
I sink back into the chair beside the desk. “Fuck, you’ve really fallen for her, haven’t you?”
Aamon looks up at me, eyes exacerbated. There’s bags under them, and it’s beyond obvious he needs blood. Badly. But all of that can’t do anything to hide the emotional torment that love brings. And a pang of jealousy runs through me, forcing me to look away.
“I don’t know what to do,” he admits.
“You get her to safety. No matter how much it hurts her. No matter how much it kills you. You order her away because if you do not, Andras will take her and hand her right back to her father. And she will be subjected to a lifetime of experimentation under that bastard’s orders.
Or worse, she’ll experience the same thing here under Andras’ watch when he decides he no longer feels like playing nice with Raziel. ”
I rifle through the letters beside him on the bed, handing him the worst of them.
“She will never see the light of day again, Aamon. So it doesn’t matter how much you love her.
How badly you want to be with her. You order her away to save her.
And you make her believe it. Because if she comes back, Raziel will get her and never let her go.
Not now that he knows the full extent of her power. ”
Aamon’s eyes flit over more text, taking in the details I already read hours ago. The ones that outline how Evangeline's magic has since manifested, and the hefty sum Raziel has agreed to pay to get her back.
“Okay,” he says at last. His voice is defeated, his shoulders slumped. He lets the papers fall back onto the bed, shaking his head. “Okay,” he repeats. “I’ll do it. But under one condition.”
“Now isn’t the time to negotiate.”
Aamon holds up a finger. “I’ll send her away, but only if you promise to go with her.”
I open my mouth to argue, to explain that she won’t want my company.
Not after how poorly I’ve treated her. But he continues before I can get a word out.
“You already know Sterling won’t leave her side.
Quinn may be just as obsessed with her, but he won’t leave me.
Not for anything. And as much as I trust Sterling, I know she will need more to keep her safe out there. ”
I sigh, shaking my head.
“I know you and Sterling have spent time out there. You can do it again. You can keep her alive. Go with her, prepare ahead of time. Take whatever you need, just be ready. Because if what you say is true, we need to act fast. Andras will notice these are gone.” He gestures back to the papers behind him.
“So we need to make a move now. Before the sun sets.”
A chill runs through my body at the idea of returning to the WildLands so soon.
But I don't have much of a choice. If Aamon orders the girl away, Sterling will go too. And I can’t let him be out there alone.
He barely made it out alive the first time, and now he’ll have a whole other life to care for.
“You want to send her out in the broad daylight?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Like I said." The smirk returns to Aamon’s lips. Fainter this time, weighed down with the sadness in his eyes. “She was well fed last night. It will hurt like the hells, but she’ll make it.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. I shake my head, pushing off my knees to stand. I slip off my cut, folding it gingerly and laying it across the chair I was sitting in. “How much time can you give me?” I ask as I move through the room.
“Two hours at most." He turns towards the papers, gathering them up into one neat stack. “But we need to get her out of here with plenty of time before Andras wakes. So she’s nowhere near the city’s border when he realizes she’s gone.”
“Want me to put them back?” I gesture down to the bed. “May buy us more time if they appear untouched.”
Aamon shakes his head. “I have other plans for them.”
My face hardens. “Aamon . . .” I warn. But he doesn’t give me time to argue.
“Thank you for sharing this with me, Zeke. You have no idea how much—” Aamon swallows, shoving down whatever emotion is threatening to spill out of him. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t.”
“Come with us.” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize I’ve said them. But it’s obvious how much this pains him to do.
Aamon shakes his head. “I can’t. There’s more to this than just Evangeline.
I need to find answers. I need to take care of it, or I’ll never forgive myself.
Besides”—he huffs out a forced laugh—“Andras would believe it if I tell him you and Sterling took off with her. But I’m bloodbound to him.
He won’t let me go. Not ever. Coming with you would only put her in more danger. ”
I pause at the door, hand poised on the knob as I take in the sight of him. He’s always struck me as powerful, but seeing him now, in this light . . . He’s every bit the leader he’s been forced to be. That he tries to deny. More so than I’d ever previously realized.
“Go. Prepare.” He waves me away. “I’ll give you two hours before I wake her. But you need to be ready when I do.”
I watch him carefully, but I can tell by the firm set of his jaw that there’s no use arguing with him. He’s made his decision. Just as I have made mine. I’d sacrifice anything to keep Sterling safe by my side. I see the same determination in his eyes to protect the girl.
"Aamon,” I call out, just as I twist the knob to open the door. He lifts his gaze to meet mine one more time. “Make it believable. Make it real."