Chapter Thirty-Two #3
the stadium’s mood like an orchestra conductor; he’d have picked it up the moment things began to shift and empaths started
going down. But Alex wouldn’t have left just to save himself, wouldn’t have abandoned the other empaths to their fate unless
he had a damn good reason—
“We need to talk.”
Grayson’s eyes popped open. His gaze went up the stairs to the familiar figure at the next landing. “That’s my line,” he said
dryly.
Alex calmly took a seat on the top stair. He appeared alone and defenseless, but it was certainly an illusion, the danger
lurking just out of sight. “What, I don’t get a hey, little brother, how you doing?”
Grayson gestured at the door and the stadium beyond. “I got some idea how you are already.”
“I suppose so.” Alex’s gaze was on him. “I can probably guess how you are too.”
“I’m fine,” Grayson said. “I’m never anything but fine anymore.”
Alex’s eyes flicked over him. “We have five minutes to talk, maybe only four.”
“Or maybe you have thirty seconds before I take you down like all your empath friends,” Grayson said. “I do have a real specific
job now, you know.”
“I’m the one who changed you,” Alex said, clearly unimpressed. “I really doubt you’d be able to knock me out.”
“Last time I checked, I was still bigger and faster than you—”
“Can you stop being so dramatic for the three minutes it will take me to tell you what really happened in this stadium?” Alex steepled his hands together.
“Maybe you already know Charles Stone has been framing us. Last night, he had ten empaths kidnapped and locked them in the
Stone Solutions suite. This morning, he injected my thralls with some deadly cocktail and turned them loose on the stadium,
planning to blame the kidnapped pacifists.”
“Okay, but I met several of those empaths,” Grayson pointed out. “They weren’t pacifists anymore.”
“No,” Alex agreed. “Stone didn’t know Cora and I had joined the others in the suite.”
“You turned the other empaths?” When Alex shrugged with fake modesty, Grayson huffed. “How?”
“I don’t think you or anyone else needs those details.” Alex rested his chin on his hands. “Holt Traynor told us that Stone
was responsible for what happened to us in that bunker. He might even be the one who orchestrated what happened to Mom and
Dad.”
Grayson folded his arms. “Is all this your way of trying to convince me that we should work together instead of against each
other?”
“Just this once,” Alex said. “Because I don’t want Charles Stone to get away this time.”
Grayson straightened up off the wall. Alex’s eyes tracked his every move, and yeah, that relaxed pose was just a front, like a snake sunning itself, harmless-appearing but ready to strike if provoked. “At least one thing that happened in that bunker wasn’t Charles Stone’s fault.”
“Fair enough,” Alex said. “Though I wasn’t trying to turn you into some secret shadow agent empath hunter. That’s not even a real thing.”
“I made it a real thing.”
“Yeah, you did, and if that wasn’t bad enough, you had to go work for the very assholes who had us locked in that bunker in
the first place?”
“I didn’t know who was behind it, did I?” Grayson said. “And even now, I can’t feel anger at Stone for what he did.”
“But you could help me take him down,” Alex said.
“How many lives is that gonna cost?” Grayson said. “Maybe I can help, but maybe I shouldn’t. I’m gonna make a logical decision
based on protecting innocents and pacifist empaths. That’s who I am now. You know that better than anyone else, and you know
exactly how permanent the change was when you destroyed my emotions.”
“I didn’t destroy anything,” Alex said. “I built a wall. With your full cooperation, I might add.”
“Destruction or wall, it’s still permanent.”
But Alex only rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you exactly what I told Reece: It’s permanent for all intents and purposes.”
Grayson shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“I can’t break it; no empath can,” said Alex. “The only one who could tear it down is you—but you never, ever will.” He leaned
forward. “Don’t you see? Because to break it, you’d have to want to—and you’re no longer capable of feeling that emotion.”
Memories from that West Texas bunker rose, and Grayson let them: standing in a cell with Alex, wiping blood off his face, the pain in his body still not a match for the pain in his heart.
Do it, Grayson had said to his brother. Whatever you need to do to make me stronger, do it. I will get us the fuck out of here, Alex, I swear it.
I don’t want to feel anything anymore anyway.
“You’re my brother,” Alex said more quietly. “I know I’m not the brother I used to be, but I wanted to get you out of that
bunker. And maybe part of me thought giving you relief from the pain almost walked the edge of mercy.”
I don’t want to feel anything anymore anyway.
Alex would have heard that Grayson was telling the truth.
He shook his head, burying the memories, for now at least. “What do you need me to do about Charles Stone?”
“Find him.” Alex jumped up to his feet. “I know that slimy bastard is here, probably just outside the stadium where he’s safe,
gloating that his plan worked. I’m worried that he might have found Reece.”
Grayson stilled.
“Stone will be ready to run, will probably have both his car and his helicopter waiting. Find him and stall him. We’ll handle
the rest.”
“Who’s we?” Grayson asked.
But Alex was darting back up the stairs. Grayson had a choice: Chase upstairs after Alex and bring him into Stone Solutions
with the other empaths, or do what Alex had asked of him and head downstairs to look for Charles Stone.
He didn’t hesitate, and a moment later he was running down the stairs, heading for the street level.