Chapter thirty-nine #2
“Evanger,” Micah supplies after a beat, lowering his voice to add, “And you’re smart to ask.” And then, as if intentionally shifting the attention off Braylon, Micah motions to Zeke. “Your turn.”
Zeke happily launches into his tale. “I’m one hundred and fifty, give or take a year or two.
I don’t much like keeping up. As for the story, it’s pretty simple.
My lady bedded another man while I was inside the Fray.
I would have killed him and been sent to the Judgement Tree if I’d stayed. I chose to become a Conscript.”
“Two hundred for me,” Silas chimes in, and now I think he’s the one saving Zeke more details.
I’m seeing a trend here. They fight like brothers.
They protect each other like brothers. Silas continues, “Micah came to visit my Wing in the academy. That’s what they call the groups they place us in—Wings.
Red Wing. Blue Wing. You get the idea. He trained us to survive the Fray.
One of the tips he gave me saved my life, and I applied for Conscript for one reason: to serve with him.
When the king tried to send me elsewhere, I pleaded my case.
He didn’t listen, but the queen forced his hand. ”
Silas is two hundred, and Micah was already training the Wings. I reach for the connection I share with Micah and say, You weren’t joking. You really are ridiculously old.
He laughs inside our connection and replies, Too fucking old, I think at times. But I always had one reason to live.
Expecting a smartass answer that fits the mood, I dare to ask, Which was what?
The Aza, he replies. In other words, me.
His reply echoes in my mind, and my eyes jerk to his. He reaches for the bottle and lifts it. “More wine?”
I resolutely set my glass on the table. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
His eyes light, flecks of amber heat burning through him and me, and he laughs, a rumble of amusement that taunts and seduces, and it’s as if he’s the sun and I’m a flower blossoming under his attention right here in front of his most trusted people.
Self-preservation has me turning away from him to angle toward Gabriella. “I’d love to hear your story.”
She downs the remainder of her wine as if for courage, and Micah reaches over me to refill her glass.
His arm brushes my arm, and Lord, help me, I can feel him in every part of me.
He knows, too, I can feel his awareness, and I want to demand he stop, but when he pulls back, I want to grab him and hold on to him.
I’m losing my mind because of this man, my would-be executioner, who seems to be confused as he keeps saving my life and driving me right back to the edge of a cliff.
“My family were Bedrocks,” Gabriella begins.
“You may already know this but Bedrocks are commoners who live among the humans and watch out for them but call on the Conscripts for battle. When I was one month from coming of age, demons killed my family. I was angry and rebellious and went on a killing spree. Micah saved me from an attack one night, and he was impressed enough with my skills to help me find a better way. He took me to the king and demanded I have a chance to enter the Gilded Academy. They were all shocked that I survived the Fray, but none of them had any idea that Micah had trained me well before he took me to the king.”
I reach out and squeeze her hand a moment, feeling a connection to her and her story, wondering where my real family is now. Were they, too, killed by demons? “Did you get lucky and just get placed with Micah?”
“No,” she laughs. “I was as rebellious as a feral cat, per the king, and yes, we have cats in the lands of Nephilim. He cursed Micah for sending me to him and wouldn’t curse anyone but Micah with me.”
“She’s still a damn feral cat,” Silas assures me.
Gabriella spews a wild combination of curse words at him that has me choking on my laughter. “I think I need to train with you, Gabriella,” I say.
“Oh, fuck no,” Micah objects. “She’s feral enough without you, Gabriella.”
Silas says something to Gabriella, and the group launches into their now familiar barbs.
I whirl on Micah to find him focused on me. I tip my chin up but lower my voice. “If I’m feral, you bring it out in me.”
His gaze darkens, lashes lower, and his attention sweeps my mouth and lifts. “I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” And I swear for a moment I think he might kiss me right here in front of everyone.
Coward that I am, I turn away and reach for the wine bottle. Micah catches it and my hand, a charge in the connection. “I got it,” he says softly. “You sure you want more?”
My eyes dare to meet his as I confess, “I’m not sure of a lot of things right now.”
“I think I can help with that,” he says, a suggestive purr to his words. “If you let me.”
The group settles down, and I become aware of the attention on me and Micah. I wave off the wine and focus on the group. “It’s my turn, but I guess you all know my story.”
“They don’t know much,” Micah corrects. “The basics, but no one knows your story like you. Tell them in your words.”
“Okay,” I breathe out. “At some point, I was kidnapped and placed with the Corrupt, two of who pretended to be my parents, but not good ones. My grandfather was not a part of the Corrupt, and he was amazing. He passed a few years ago, but I loved him very much. He’s who I celebrated holidays and birthdays with. ”
“I hate the fucking Corrupt,” Silas grumbles. “They’re the bottom feeders of humanity. I’m glad we found you before Jeremy turned you into one of them, or whatever the hell he planned.”
“Agreed,” Zeke replies. “I almost think the Corrupt are worse than demons. They choose the path of evil.”
Which leads me to an important question. “What do you do to the Corrupt?”
All eyes turn to Micah, including mine. “You won’t like that answer.”
“You kill them,” I conclude. “Including the ones who pretended to be my parents.”
“Especially them, as far as I’m concerned,” he says, no apology in the air or on his tongue.
“When the time comes, I’ll do what you want, but I’ll thank you for letting me end them.
You’d be dead or possessed by Jeremy if we hadn’t found you in time, and I promise you, they had a big payday of some sort coming. ”
The room seems to pause for my reaction, and I don’t make them wait.
My response is remarkably simple. “I want them alive long enough to know what they know about my life. Which brings me to the need for answers.” I glance around the room.
“I need to know what the Knowledge Keepers said to all of you.”
The room goes silent once again. I seem to be good at rendering them all wordless, and Micah leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Ember deserves to know what the Knowledge Keepers had to say. Speak freely.” He lifts his chin at Zeke. “You start.”
“There’s a proper way of the universe,” he says. “Ember must choose the light or the darkness now that she’s of age. The serpent cannot interfere, and that’s exactly what has happened. The Judgement Tree will right what is wrong and give her a fresh start.”
“Same,” Braylon adds. “I heard the same.”
“As did I,” Gabriella says, “but with more details.” All eyes turn to her as she continues.
“I was told that Ember must go to the Judgement Tree, but she cannot go into the kingdom without the serpent being bound, or the serpent will be freed in our land with disastrous results. She must go to the Diviner of Amherst and plead for a drink from the magical Amherst River. The river will bind the serpent until the Judgement Tree can free her.”
“This river can do that for me?” I ask, glancing at Micah for confirmation.
“Yes,” Micah says, but his jaw is steel that looks to shatter.
My hand goes freely to his arm, and on some level, I know this blows the minds of his trusted followers, his friends, but I don’t seem to care, not in this moment, not in a lot of moments. “What’s wrong?”
“The Diviner will want a favor,” Silas answers for him. “And not one you will want to give.”
“Like what?” I ask, my attention back on Micah.
“I’ll handle the Diviner,” he assures me.