Nathaniel
THE ENTIRE WAREHOUSE IS devoid of light—to everyone else, at least.
I have about two seconds before the council starts to panic, but I’m already moving. Spinning around, I put a bullet into Ryan’s head, aiming to the right of his crumbling body and giving the same gift to Boston.
Cecilia screams, turning to run as their bodies lie limply on the concrete, the red proof of Landon’s previous torture combining with their own blood as it puddles around them.
I aim again, shooting Cecilia down before she reaches the door.
Landon is still sitting on the metal chair, shaking and flinching at every gunshot as he stares wildly into the dark. I would have kept him with me, in the light, but I’m terrified the violence will scar him.
He doesn’t need to see. He’s already seen too much.
Will he forgive me? Will he listen to my explanation, or run before I can open my bastardous mouth?
Those are questions for later; there is still a threat here. Joesph.
And just as the thought occurs to me, as I search the open warehouse, I hear Landon’s screech of pain.
“Fuck!” he shouts, and I whip back around to face him.
Rage and terror fill my body, overflowing into the open as I choke on this new reality presented to me.
The needle at the end of the injection gun is damp and thick, the red light blinking on the side of the metal telling everyone with eyes that it is now empty.
The suppression chip is pushed firmly into Landon’s system, dissolving slowly and ruining his chance at ever using coercion again.
“See? Wasn’t so hard, now, was it, Nathaniel?” Joseph asks mockingly, and my eyes flicker from Landon’s petrified face to the council member’s smirk.
“Let go of him.” My own voice sounds so far away, so separate from my psyche that it almost startles me.
I’ve never felt this out of control before.
Joseph moves, and within a flash, a gleaming knife is pressed to Landon’s neck.
“How about this?” Joseph negotiates. “You lower that gun, and I don’t kill your little prince?”
The knife pressed further into his neck, creating a thin, angry mark. Landon’s breath catches.
The gun falls from my hand, clattering to the ground. Joseph smiles at the sound of it, still unable to see clearly, and nods his head once as he stands up taller, retracting the knife.
“Good. Now, you do understand that you’ll have to pay for killing my friends, right?”
My illusion fades, soaking back into my body as Landon finally takes in the bodies on the ground. He turns his head, vomiting onto the concrete.
I’m a fucking idiot. Landon may be annoying, self-centered, and so fucking bratty—but he’s not evil. He can’t even see death without losing it.
I’m the evil one. I just killed three people and didn’t even flinch.
“I’ll answer to that,” I tell Joseph. “Now, let him go. You already repressed his gift.”
Landon tenses, and it seems that for the first time since he was stuck with that needle, he’s feeling around inside of himself.
His eyes widen even further, welling up with tears as they lift to meet mine. He’s trembling even harder now, his breath leaving him in sawed-out pants.
I know what he’s feeling. I’ve seen it before. The recognition that something has been taken from you; that a vital piece of you is missing.
“I-I’m empty,” Landon breathes out, watching me as he waits for some kind of explanation. “I can’t feel it. Nate, I feel nothing. I’m empty. What’s happened? When will it stop?”
“Never,” Joseph supplies helpfully. “You will never have your precious power again.”
And I shouldn’t be surprised. Not really. I’ve seen countless reactions of someone finding out their power has been repressed.
But the blood-curdling, desperate scream of sorrow that leaves Landon? I can’t fucking breathe. I can’t believe that sound has left him.
Landon’s entire body goes taut, his muscles straining as he screams and screams. It’s agony and fear and betrayal, all wrapped in one.
Joseph soaks in the sound for a moment like a wicked sadist, appearing to enjoy Landon’s pain. And then, his hand clasps over Landon’s mouth, leaving him to pant and sob against the man’s palm.
“Enough,” Joseph commands. “Are you screaming because your power is gone, or because Nathaniel has betrayed you?”
Big green eyes settle on me again, wet and pained, as he glares at me.
“Here,” Joseph continues. “I’ll give you a gift as an apology.”
He pulls a phone from his jacket pocket, fumbling with it for a moment before playing a crackling audio.
“Okay,” Calum starts, his voice so familiar to me. “Landon Presley, twenty-two years old. Definitely comes from daddy’s money—the Presley empire in California. He’s got an older sister and is set to start working for his father any day now. Just sent you a pic.”
Oh, fuck. I shouldn’t have taken this call on my work phone, where it’s monitored. But how was I meant to know? How could I have predicted that for the first time in my life, I’d change my mind?
“That’s him.” My voice is clear, and I can spot the moment Landon recognizes it, his entire body slumping.
“Want me to send out a repressor?”
“I’ll handle it. I need a plane ticket and a hotel close to his house. Send me the details,” I command.
“Are you sure? You’re working now, aren’t you? Someone else can handle this.”
“No.” My voice is stern and confident. “I’ll be the one to take him down. No one else.”
The audio cuts out, leaving the warehouse in a piercing silence as I stare at Landon’s feet, unwilling to look him in the eyes.
“See? Nathaniel has been planning this for forever,” Joseph explains gently. “Don’t let his murder spree move you, Landon. Tell me where your uncle is, and I won’t slit your throat. Do it, and you can leave. Only Nathaniel will be punished.”
He removes his hand from Landon’s mouth, and I watch as he pants and breathes through his tears.
“Just kill me,” Landon whispers. “I won’t talk, so just kill me. Please.”
He will no longer look at me. My gaze has lifted to catch his as he asks for death, and yet his eyes stay locked on the blood-covered concrete between us.
Joseph sighs in irritation. “You’re such a waste of resources, dumb child.
I can’t let him die. If he wants to hate me forever, never speaking to me again, then fine. But I can’t let him die.
“Joseph, we can find Benji on our own,” I try to reason, but the man just glares at me, bringing the knife to Landon’s neck once more.
“We won’t be doing anything. You massacred the council, Nathaniel. You’re out.” His glare fades into an expression of disinterest as he peers down at Landon again. “But he serves me no purpose anymore. I’ll dispose of him.”
Landon releases a relieved sigh; his eyelashes flutter as his eyes slide shut, and he relaxes into the chair. Ready for it. Craving it.
“No,” I shout, taking a step forward. “I’ll hunt you to the ends of this earth if you hurt him.”
Joseph laughs, giving me an incredulous look. “You won’t be doing anything once the rest of the repressors arrive. They’ve already been called, and when they get here, they’ll lock you up.”
As if on cue, the door on the other side of the warehouse swings open, and Joseph grins.
“See? I told you—”
A gunshot rings out, one unrelated to me, and as blood begins to pour out of the gaping hole in the side of his head, Joseph crumbles to the floor.
Landon screams. He’s covered in the man’s blood, shaking out of his own skin as he sits there, eyes wide and locked onto the door.
I’m moving a moment later, falling onto my knees in front of him.
“Lanny,” I breathe out, reaching for the restraints on his legs.
“NO!” he screeches, struggling in vain to get away from me. “Don’t fucking touch me! I hate you! Stay—” His words are cut off by a choked, wet sob that leaves his throat.
“Please, Landon,” I beg gently. “Just let me get you out of here.”
“No.” This time it’s a whispered plea, something broken and exhausted. “Just leave me here. Go away. You’re… you’re a… a monster.”
And then Landon is out, slumping forward as his snot runs free and his mouth hangs open.
“It looks like he passed out,” Calum says, coming behind me.
I startle, whipping around to stare at him.
“What are you—”
“Joseph called in for backup,” he interrupts. “Gave a brief description. Honestly, he shouldn’t have sent the other repressors away in the first place. He got too cocky.”
“And you came?” I ask, breathless. “Instead of calling backup, you…”
“Killed him?” Calum stands tall, but he’s just a little slip of a thing, and his fingers are shaking around the gun he’s holding.
“You can lie to me all you want, but I can see it—how you care for this boy. So, yeah. Instead of calling backup, I showed up myself. I’m just thankful you took out the others before I arrived. ”
He runs a hand through his thick blond hair, his brown eyes darting around to see the carnage. An immense respect fills me, and I’m just about to tell him how thoroughly he’s helped me when a soft whimper leaves Landon’s passed-out body.
I untie his restraints, scooping him up and into my arms.
“About the bodies,” I start, looking around the warehouse. “Should I—”
“I’ll handle it,” Calum interjects. “A few other repressors are on the way, and they’ve been filled in. The council probably should have been a bit nicer if they wanted more than a handful of lackies.”
Relief floods my system, and I give him a grateful look, as close to a smile as I can manage.
“Thank you, Calum. Really.”
He waves me off with the hand still holding the gun. “Get going now. He needs medical attention. A doctor is waiting in your usual hotel room.”
He really has thought of fucking everything. Now I kind of feel guilty for hanging up on him the way I did before.
I can’t handle more guilt right now, though, so I shove it away and leave the warehouse with Landon in my arms.
Landon has a busted lip, a black eye, various cuts and bruises, and a dislocated shoulder.
I watch as he lies on the hotel bed, still unconscious but freshly cleaned of blood, as the doctor wraps up taking vitals and gives me some more reassurance. Then he leaves.