Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
GABE
Getting back to the Draven mansion after a full day of dealing with my mom’s ignored responsibilities and signing off on a whole stack of expenses for her care is like finally taking a deep breath.
The afternoon sun is still scorching hot and sweat rolls down my spine as I yank my helmet off and wait as the garage door slowly opens before me.
Three of the Gryphon’s team are on watch at the front of the mansion, and I know there’s bound to be a dozen more out of my line of sight guarding the perimeter.
Covered from head to toe in Tac gear, it’s only their badges that distinguish them from each other.
If I hadn’t spent years around them, it would be impossible to tell who I’m looking at, but I nod in greeting at Harrison when he lifts a gloved hand at me, the other gripping his firearm firmly.
He’s been here the entire time Gryphon has been on bedrest, taking up Kieran’s position as Second while Black himself has been the temporary Lead.
I’ve never been close to any of them, not like Gryphon is anyway, but even if I were, I’m not in the talking mood.
Not with my Mom’s weary sighs still ringing in my ears and her doctor’s recommendations playing on repeat.
Rolling my motorcycle forward, I get the garage door swinging shut behind me before I’m fully through just to hide myself away from any prying eyes.
The moment the room plunges back into darkness, relief washes over me, but I only get to enjoy it for a second before the rush of guilt that always follows hits me.
It’s a thousand times worse this time, though.
Usually, I can find something positive to focus on, some silver lining to all the awful shit I’m drowning in, but there’s nothing to break through the desolate feeling that’s eating me alive.
Shit, this must be what the Resistance feels as the Draven’s nightmare creatures consume them.
I might not feel any sympathy for them, but it’s an absolutely horrifying death to consider.
Bile creeps up the back of my throat so fast I almost choke on it, a hand slapping over my mouth to stop myself from puking.
Light-headed, I can’t help but think that this is probably what taking acid and panicking feels like.
Instant, overpowering, and sickening, the self-loathing is enough to eat me alive.
It takes me a full minute to be sure I’m not actually going to be sick and another before my legs are steady underneath me.
I’m sure there’s no way I’m going to get through the mansion without someone stopping me and asking me what the hell has happened, but at least I haven’t lost my lunch on North’s tires.
I’m barely through the front door before I hear the telltale sounds of North raging with anger. It’s not such a rare occurrence that I don’t recognize it straight away, but I stumble over my own feet when it’s Nox’s voice answering his brother’s ire.
Too far away to make out what they’re saying yet, I pick up the pace as my stomach starts to churn dangerously again, only this time the panic is centered entirely on what the hell could’ve possibly happened now.
A thousand possibilities, but no matter how much she hates me, no matter how much I’m starting to hate myself for knowing better, I can’t help but instantly think of her.
Is my Bond okay?
Is she still here?
I’d know if she were dead—wouldn’t I?
That gets me moving like my ass is on fire, my feet eating up the distance to North’s office like it’s nothing, and my pace only slows when North’s fury finally forms into words I can actually make out.
“—of all the reckless things to do, Nox, this is just—you really don’t care about provoking a response from the Resistance, do you?
What about if they send a Neuro here that can neutralize your nightmare creatures?
For all we know, they can and they will.
They’re hunting us all, Nox, and you’ve probably just spurred them on, for fuck’s sake—”
Nox cuts him off. “So close to the point, North, but you’ve still missed it.
This wasn’t a trip for the sake of poking at them.
I was looking for something specific, and now I have proof they really are hunting something particular, not just grabbing Gifted at random and hoping to come across a power worth keeping. ”
Swallowing roughly, I hesitate for a second just outside of the room only to jump as Gryphon’s voice projects into my mind and scares the shit out of me.
You’re not interrupting anything, Gabe. Nox’s actions affect us all. I’ve been waiting for you to get here before I wade into this fight.
There’s no way for me to reply, Gryphon would never pry like that without a solid reason for it, so I’m sucking in a deep breath as I round the corner into North’s office with the same demeanor as I’d imagine you’d have while taking a walk to the executioner’s block.
North and Nox are standing on opposite sides of North’s desk, both looking as though they’ve just come back from the worst depths of hell, bickering while Gryph leans against the far wall and watches them without a word.
I move to stand with him, slinging the bag of my football gear to the ground at my feet.
I cross my arms over my chest as I mirror his stance, trying to melt into the scenery of the room and failing spectacularly at it as North’s gaze swings to scour over me as if he’s looking for something to explain my sudden appearance.
Jerking my head at him in greeting, I turn to Nox to do the same but he’s too busy glaring at his brother to notice.
North blows out a breath as though he's trying to claw back some self-control now that I've arrived, but Nox only doubles down. I’m honestly not surprised that he would, but the fact that he’s fine with me being here to witness it does kind of shock me.
Nox is notoriously private about every inch of his life.
“If every move we make is only ever a response, how are we ever supposed to get the upper hand? We’re only ever moving defensively; we need to start taking offensive action.”
Gryph doesn’t move a single muscle in response to Nox, it’s as though he didn’t even hear him speak, except that he speaks to me again.
Nox took my TacTeam to one of the newly established Wastelands without authorization or even a heads-up to North or I.
He found intel there about the Gifted who attacked me…
and others. It was a success, in his opinion, but he risked the lives of every Gifted there without second thought.
It’s a miracle they got out unscathed. Fuck, we’re still trying to figure out how the hell he wasn’t found and captured or at least forced into a retreat.
Holy shit.
That’s so much worse than I was expecting. My gut drops instantly in spite of the instant relief flooding me to know that my Bond isn’t involved.
Side-eyeing Gryph, I find him squinting at North as if he’s deciding whether the councilman will drop this and let his brother go without consequences.
Knowing them for as long as I have, I’m expecting it when Gryph’s gaze drops to North’s wrist, and I’m quick to check as well.
The small band of black smoke circling it practically screams that the Death Dealer has been pushed way beyond his usual limits and all hell is about to break loose.
The thought of what else could’ve possibly gone wrong to get him this worked up terrifies me.
After another fraught beat of silence, North finally takes a careful breath and squares his shoulders as he straightens his jacket.
“We don’t have the resources to go on the offensive, Nox, you know this.
No matter your opinions on the General, the fact of the matter is that he took a large portion of our skilled TacTeams with him. ”
Freezing in place, I’m almost too worried to look in Gryphon’s direction at the mention of his asshole of a father, but he doesn’t react to it at all, not even when Nox sends him a foul look, itching for someone else to wade into this fight.
North pointedly doesn’t look our way as he continues, “That’s not our only issue. We’ve also lost too many Gifted in the kidnappings to lower the protection details around the community.”
Nox scoffs, throwing himself down into the armchair with his usual vicious sneer fixed on his face. “The scouts they send out are barely trained. We’re worrying about Gifted we could take out without breaking a sweat! Numbers aren’t everything!”
North and Gryphon share a look, clearly sensing something in Nox that I’m missing, but North straightens his jacket again as he takes his own seat.
His desk is as orderly as his appearance, not a single scrap of paper out of line, but with all his fussing and tweaking, I guess his stationary wouldn’t ever dare to misbehave.
His tie certainly doesn’t.
When he looks back up at his brother, his tone is finally back to the calm and reassuring one he usually uses, though his words offer little comfort.
“It’s far easier to attack when you don’t give a fuck about the lives on either side of the conflict, but that’s not something I’ll allow us to stoop to. ”
Gryph’s shoulders roll back a little straighter, like he’s readying himself to back North up if Nox tries to argue with this, but he doesn’t.
God, by the looks of him, Nox isn’t even listening to his brother anymore as he scowls down at his hands.
He flexes them the way he always does when he’s thinking.
It’s familiar to me, the state I most commonly saw him in before I started at Draven and enrolled in his classes.