Chapter 18 #3
“I haven’t put enough thought into it to have a definitive opinion on the matter.
There are strong arguments to be made for both, but if you pushed me to side one way or another, I’d say it’s something else.
You and I both have the distinct advantage of our experiences with the Draven curse, though I’m loathe to call it that.
It means we both know that there are Gifts that don’t fit the clear designations that most do.
Nulls aren’t a physical Gift, yet they affect the physical.
They’re not Neuro, yet they’re wielded as such.
They’re not Elementals, Shifters, and they’re certainly not Death Dealers. They’re something else.”
Maybe it’s the frustration in my tone despite my earnest answer, but he finally looks up to meet my eye.
“The Gifted who attacked Shore? He was certain they weren’t a Neuro and that their strength was growing as they attacked him; it was a magnifier.
The Gift only takes what’s already there and manipulates it.
Gryph was being attacked so effectively because of his Gift’s strength, not in spite of it. ”
Fuck.
When will this nightmare end?
“Do you have any leads on—fuck, anything that can neutralize this threat?”
Nox finally gives me that smirk of his, the one that has my bond preparing to join in to the bloodshed he’s surely planning.
“More than a lead; I’ve found the attack pattern and isolated the only one where the Gifted was forced into a retreat.
Give me a TacTeam and twenty-four hours and I’ll destroy the Resistance’s trump-card Gifted and the house of cards they’ve built on his back. ”
With a satisfied look on his face, he leans back in the armchair and I stop to really look at him for a minute.
His face is almost haggard-looking with the many sleepless nights he’s clearly been pulling for this.
A ripple of irritation works its way down my spine, but this time it’s aimed at myself.
While I’ve been struggling with the aftermath of his trauma-fueled actions, he’s been working himself into the ground to protect us all.
Gryphon’s attack has clearly rocked him, only Nox doesn’t know how to express any sort of affection or concerns for others without mistaking the actions for weakness, so instead he lashes out at us all and hunts for the answers until something like that can never happen again.
He’s not a lost cause.
No matter his opinions on the matter, or anyone else’s, I know that I’m right to continue to support him and to back him when his actions go awry. The mess with my Bond was an oversight on my part—it’s up to me to fill in the gaps and mitigate any further confrontations between them.
That starts now, with a distraction that can keep his mind occupied while dealing with the circling threats.
When I finally make it to the Tac Training Center, even the evening classes are long-since finished and the custodial staff are almost finished with their cleaning duties.
I greet each of them as I pass with a warm smile, genuine and comfortable on my face despite the nightmare I’ve lived today.
Dropping the councilman pleasantries is always a relief, and I had the staff at Draven vetted by Gryph long before my Bond was ever enrolled.
Vivian’s office is the only one still lit up, and he calls out to me the moment I knock.
I find him sitting behind his desk and his Central Bonded, Adella, standing next to him with her handbag already on her shoulder.
She glances over her shoulder at me as though surprised I’m here, but Vivian lets out a breath.
“Maybe I will make it home before midnight, Del. Now, stop your fussing and head back before Unser is climbing up my ass about keeping you out here late while he’s in the trenches at home alone. He’s struggling with the twins’ homework enough as it is.”
Grimacing, I shoot Adella an apologetic look. “How are your children faring with their studies? I hear nothing but praises.”
Adella huffs at me, kissing Vivian’s cheek before she rounds his desk to do the same in greeting to me.
“As stubborn as their fathers, the lot of them! I’m trying to keep their focus on careers and life outside of this damned war, but all I ever hear about is the TacTeam age requirements blocking them from joining the fight and passing psych evaluations to go out in the field.
I’m warning you now, North Draven, if you dare lower the age requirements—”
I hold both my hands up in surrender. “I have never even considered it. I will keep my promise to you about shredding any ‘exception permits’ that hit my desk with any of their names on them as well. I know better than to cross Adella Farley.”
She smiles sweetly at me but her eyes are as fierce as a lioness staring down a threat to her pride. There’s no way I’d ever do anything to put her family at risk, but she’s careful, all the same. Exactly how a Central Bonded should be.
Any peace I’d found since arriving evaporates into thin air.
Adella doesn’t comment on the sudden change to my demeanor, instead she bids her Bonded farewell again and slips easily from the room, closing the door firmly behind her. It takes me another minute before I can look at Vivian without a sullen look on my face.
He, too, refrains from commenting on my childish behavior.
“I heard about the recon for the Gifted who almost took out Shore that you’ve green-lit—we need to act on any intel quickly.
Sharpe called this morning to gloat about the kidnappings, and it’s a sign of discontent within the community that can’t be brushed off. ”
Eyebrows raising, I take the seat before his desk when he gestures to it. “He called you to gloat?”
Vivian shrugs. “Not in so many words. He said he wanted to discuss the ‘state of security’ within the community, and to warn me that there are a growing number of Gifted who are unhappy with how you’re handling the role.
He didn’t want to see a man of my standing to be dragged down with the inevitable demise of the Draven’s reign of terror. ”
Blinking at him, I can only scoff when he nods at me as if swearing he’s telling the whole truth.
“He’s been on borrowed time for far too long.
Gryph will be thrilled to hear he’s no longer playing the docile councilman and is teetering dangerously on the edge of becoming a threat to the community.
He’s only been waiting a decade for the chance to break open that piece of shit’s mind entirely. ”
Vivian nods slowly. “I’ve heard all the bullshit he’s been sending your way about Fallows.
I’m surprised you’ve all kept your heads about you, but it’s certainly helped me shut down any dissenting whispers that reach my ears from the rest of the council.
Didn’t think I’d ever be praising you for putting aside your Bond’s well-being for the sake of the community, but our days of so-called peace are numbered, and war brings out all sorts of bullshit. ”
My bond does not like him speaking like that, and it makes my tone harsher than I intend. “Her well-being has never been at risk, aside from her own stupid choices and childish games. If Sharpe becomes an imminent threat to her, he’ll be dealt with.”
Threading his hands together in front of himself and resting them on his desk, Vivian stares at me for a second as if he’s trying to see inside my skull.
On this particular topic, I have absolutely nothing to hide, and frankly, I’m pissed off that he's questioning my protections in the first place. He knows better than most what lengths I’ve gone to in the last five years, as well as the foundations I began building long before I ever heard the name ‘Oleander Fallows’.
Vivian lets out a slow breath. “You know, you and Fallows are a lot alike. I think it’s why I like the kid so much.
I’m watching her assess every Gifted in the room…
and she’s not impressed. Now I’m watching her prove them all wrong every week, and if they aren’t Draven traits, I don’t know what are. ”
I scoff at him, tipping my head back to stare at the ceiling incredulously. “Well, I never ran away from my Bond Group and led them on a wild, panicked chase across the country for five agonizing years, so I’m not sure I’m seeing what you are.”
He only shrugs at me again. “I said alike, not carbon copies. I think good Bond matches are similar in certain ways and complimentary where it counts. I don’t think your match is as doomed as you’re worrying about.”
This man is the closest thing to a father figure I’ve had since my own was put to death. I value his opinion on matters more than anyone else outside of my Bond Group, even more than my uncle who took Nox and I into his care and protected us both when the vultures began to circle.
It’s probably the reason I’m comfortable enough to let out a sigh that holds every ounce of frustration and despair I feel within it. My shoulders slump forward, aching from the tension I’ve held all day, and no amount of rubbing will clear the headache forming behind my eyes.
“She’s a good kid, North. I know that’s not what you want to hear right now while you’re feeling pissed off about all this, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders, she’s determined when she sets her mind onto something, and she cares about the people around her.
She’s hiding it well, but she’s taking no joy in any of the pain and suffering happening around her. ”
I shoot him a hard look. “Gabe is miserable.”
Vivian stares back unwaveringly. “And it’s killing her.
It’s eating her alive on the inside, North, I promise you…
Consider this for a second, whatever sent Oleander Fallows running is terrifying enough to your Bond that the torture of her Bond—and in turn, herself—is the better option of the two.
She would rather you all hate her and reject her in public as well as in private than to face the alternative. ”
Vivian isn’t easily fooled or manipulated.
He has championed Nox at every opportunity, reassured me of my brother’s true intentions when it seemed like I would falter, and he’s worked tirelessly with me to purge the TacTeams of Resistance spies. I’ve never doubted his words before.
So why can’t I believe them now?
Never one to shy away from difficult topics, Vivian gives me another stern look before he opens the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a bottle of amber liquid that really could be anything, and two glasses. He shoots me down the second I open my mouth to decline.
“Unser brewed it—are you doubting his taste, Draven, or is it just that silver spoon of yours that’s getting in your way?”
My teeth ache with the force of my jaw snapping shut.
This man knows better than any how to make a hit count.
Not that he was intending to harm me or even piss me off, but his insistence on getting some liquor in me sets off warning bells.
I ignore them for now, living without the weight of whatever fresh hell is coming for a little longer.
Vivian waits until I’m on my second glass before he gives me a careful look over the rim. “I’ve been talking with Shore about your Bond.”
The glass stops halfway to my mouth, but he shakes his head at my surprise. “He hasn’t told me much about what he’s picking up from her, and I wouldn’t tell you even if he did. These are… my own observations.”
He stands and walks around the desk, grabbing a remote from on top of his filing cabinet, papers and manilla folders everywhere. He points it at the TV on the wall on the far side of the room with a perfect view from either side of his desk.
My Bond appears on the screen.
It’s security footage from the maze, paused right as she’s about to walk through the thorns, but Vivian hits the play button and we watch in silence as she faces the pond bitch.
My heart leaps into my throat, but she gets through it all. Definitely not unscathed, she’s torn up and limping by the time she nears the center, but she’s in far better shape than any other student in there.
Vivian stops the footage only to rewind it and press play back at the same starting point. I watch it with the same focus as the first time, as all three times I’d read her paper, like I’ll die if I look away for even a second.
She’s stunning, unshakable, and breathtakingly enraged.
Enraptured by the sight of her, I startle when Vivian finally speaks again.
“Do you see the same signs as I am that we’ve missed something here?
Because women usually have a high pain tolerance, sure, but that there?
Are you absolutely certain she hasn’t run into trouble somewhere in her life?
Look at her face, North. That’s not just a high threshold, that’s someone who knows how to block it out entirely.
She has acid eating through her flesh and thorns ripping her to shreds and she’s enduring that pain without a single peep… like she’s been conditioned to do so—”
The entire room blacks out.
Even a power outage wouldn’t cause this sort of darkness, and to his credit, Vivian doesn’t panic.
I’m doing enough of that for the two of us.
There’s no way we missed something. Nox combed through every scrap of intel. We found her working in a cafe.
But we couldn’t trace where she was before that.
Gryphon would tell me if he found out she was held by the Resistance.
But he’s made his boundaries with her clear to me.
Every reassurance I’ve told myself of her actions finds an explanation or a hole in an instant, the same thoughts that plague me every night now running rampant through my mind until my bond wakes to the sound of my sanity coming undone.
What violence stalks our Bond? What threat has come to take her from us now? Blood and pain. They must all pay for what they seek to take from us. They must all die, every Gifted who dares to look upon what is ours—
A single, gulping gasp of air is forced past my lips and into my lungs, my head light and white stars dancing before my eyes. Hands grips my shoulders and shake me, gently at first before they grow urgent.
Then the darkness spreads to envelope me entirely along with the rest of the room, and as I lose consciousness, the last thing I see is Vivian, his hands tight on my shoulders.