Chapter 17 #2
Nyx understood that compulsion to fix things well. At least Tristen had the excuse of a magical drive. In her, it was just a character flaw.
Tristen let out a hollow laugh. “You wanted to assign me all these noble attributes in New York, but the truth is, I have to heal people. Whether I want to or not.”
She gave in to her own compulsion to fix. “You had to heal,” she agreed. “But you didn’t have to heal the people who needed it the most.”
“I picked people with issues largely untreatable by modern medicine because they provided the best outlet for my magic with the least amount of exposure. It wasn’t altruistic.”
“There’s no shortage of rich desperate sick people.
And if you deemed those too high a risk, you could have asked anything of the people you did help.
They would have done whatever you wanted.
I saw the way Valerie and the other two looked at you.
And that? That’s power. You could have used it. Plenty of people would have.”
“I did use it. Valerie ran my clinic and found my clients, didn’t she?”
“That’s called having a job. One I’m certain she was well-compensated for.” The irritation on his face, the one that she was missing the point, confirmed it. Going to the most common abuse of power, she asked, “Did you fuck her?”
He reared back. “No.”
“Did you fuck anyone you healed?”
“No.”
“Did you ask any of them to do things they didn’t want to do?”
“No.”
“Then I hate to be the one to break the bad news to you, Tristen, but you aren’t a bad person. Why are you so intent on believing you are?”
The pain that flooded his eyes was old and festering. “Because if I’m not, why does so much terrible shit keep happening to me? My own mother didn’t even want me.”
“Neither did mine. She only had me to try to control my father. Am I responsible for that?”
“Of course not, but—”
“Then neither are you. We aren’t responsible for what other people do. We certainly aren’t responsible for what our parents choose to do. We can only be responsible for what we do.”
“I have a man in a coma.”
“Yes,” Nyx allowed. And in her worst impression of a ‘90s action hero, added, “But he was a very bad man.”
Tristen stared at her. Then he started laughing. He was still laughing when Maruca burst into the room a few seconds later. At the sudden noise, Tristen went from laughing to alert in a blink, the dregs of his magic gathering in readiness.
Maruca stopped dead on the threshold, one hand still on the door, her face awash in surprise.
“I know it’s shocking,” Nyx said drily, “but I haven’t killed him.”
Tristen relaxed. “Were you worried about me?” he asked Maruca, sounding hopeful.
Nyx rolled her eyes. “I’m going to dinner. Feel free to join us, whenever you’re finished making heart eyes at each other.”
Maruca didn’t budge from the doorway when Nyx moved to leave. Kaden’s sister was speechless, a faint flush rising in her cheeks.
Oh for—really? Maruca didn’t even like Shamans.
The redhead finally found her voice. “I am not—I was only concerned on account of his former state.”
Sure. That was it. “You’re taking up the doorway,” Nyx pointed out. Maruca finally stepped aside and Nyx pass.
Nyx really hoped Tristen’s infatuation with Maruca was a temporary thing to take his mind off the stress of returning to his homeworld and searching for his mother.
Because if he decided what he wanted out of life was to spend it on Raveras making babies with Maruca fucking Moor, it was going to be catastrophically inconvenient for her.
Dinner passed without any major incident.
The side effect of making Maruca blush was that she pretended Nyx didn’t exist, which was a welcome change of pace.
Nyx still wasn’t sure where she and Maruca stood.
Maruca had apologized to her on Nethrayne, but she’d done it to a seventeen-year-old version of Nyx.
And if she seemed to have intellectually realized she was blaming Nyx for things that weren’t her fault, she didn’t seem to be able to emotionally let go of the resentment.
Morgen, Evra, and Amelia carried the bulk of the conversation throughout the meal, with Tristen sporadically joining in.
At varying times in the evening he appeared to have different personalities, but everyone had the decency to not comment on the fact.
It was a largely uneventful dinner. Evra even managed to be civil to Kaden, which made the evening significantly more pleasant.
Later, when they’d all retired to their rooms, Nyx’s brain was still racing too much for her to sleep.
She tried to, because Evra had gone out like a light and Nyx didn’t want to wake her up.
It wasn’t until Nyx was forcing her breath into even inhales and exhales, hoping it would lull her into actual sleep, that she realized Evra was faking too.
Because as soon as Nyx’s breathing was even for a few minutes, Evra very quietly got out of bed.
She opened and closed the doors softly enough, but it was clear she’d gone into Morgen’s room next door.
Smiling, Nyx gave into her restless mind and got up, wandering out onto the balcony. The moon was high, the breeze was cool, and the ocean was still and quiet.
Movement caught her eye, and her gaze snagged on a cloaked figure. She recognized the stride even beneath the concealing garment. Kaden was going down to the beach.
She thought back to her conversation with Evra. Her best friend was wrong. Kaden Moor wasn’t in love with her. But if he was going to stick around, she needed to clear everything up between them. And apologize for her drunken behavior.
She vaulted over the porch railing and walked after him. He had a fair head start on her, which she didn’t worry about until he headed onto the dock and started untying the small row boat there. She broke into a jog. “Kaden!”
He either didn’t hear her or, more likely, ignored her. By the time she reached the dock he’d grasped the oars in their slots, dipped them into the water, and set the boat moving.
Well, fuck.
She picked up speed. When she hit the end of the dock and leapt off, the boat was already four feet away and moving swiftly farther out.
She stuck the landing, but she was at the very tip of the boat, and she suddenly understood that adage about not rocking boats, because she was rocking this one and she very much didn’t like it.
Kaden dropped the oars with a curse. He didn’t get up—she had a feeling if he stopped being a counterweight at that end of the boat, the whole thing was going to capsize—but he leaned forward, grabbed her arm, and yanked her down onto the bench opposite him.
After a few moments, the boat stabilized.
“Thanks.” She swung her legs around so she was facing him instead of sitting sideways. “You can let go of my arm now.”
“I would, but I’m debating throwing you over the side.”
“That would be rude.”
“So is jumping onto someone’s boat when they clearly don’t want you there.”
“Is that like boat etiquette or something?”
“I think they call it common courtesy,” he ground out, finally letting her go. He put his hands back on the oars and hesitated, looking at the dock.
“You could take me back,” Nyx said, seeing the thought on his face, “but I might accidentally tip the boat over out of spite.”