Chapter 16
Tacita
It’s nearly dawn before Hades, Garrick and I finish talking. Garrick gives me details on each and every contestant, what their crimes were on the mortal plane and his list of suspicious behaviour.
I head back to my room in my human form, ready to drop.
Thankfully, today is the one day a week we get off from our timetable, a rest day where we can do whatever the fuck we want.
I plan on getting a few hours of sleep before trying to pursue those we suspect could be working for the Angels.
And I’d got Garrick to agree to relax the segregation and high-level supervision we’d experienced yesterday.
A smile breaks across my face as I remember Garrick’s expression when he’d finally seen my demon side. A flush quickly follows as I remember the moments before Hades turned up and rescued us from either fighting or fucking out our argument.
I certainly didn’t think the industrial level of irritation I had towards the Officer could turn to attraction but seeing him so worked up certainly sparked something in me. And he was one hundred percent getting hard as our verbal sparring raised the temperature in that cell.
I noted him checking me out, more than once, when I was in my demonic form as well. Which made me look at him. You know, tit for tat. And I have to say he’s not bad on the eyes. I’m sure those muscles could be put to good use, pinning me to a mattress, or a wall.
Reaching the top floor, my thoughts are interrupted as I reach Wyatt’s door. The poor guy is still locked in a cell across the compound. Garrick had taken great pleasure in informing me that Wyatt’s handcuffs would’ve been removed once he was put in his cell. He'd kept mine on out of spite.
He reassured me that Wyatt would be processed today, and that his infraction would see him released after breakfast so I didn’t feel too bad.
Swiping my wristband on my door at the end of the corridor–Which now works once more, thanks to my request–I push it open gently to avoid disturbing Milo, but what greets me on the other side is so unexpected.
I’m frozen to the spot as the door closes behind me with a thud on its self-closing hinges.
Milo is curled up asleep on his bed. But behind him, wrapped around him, is Wyatt.
The lamp on the table between our beds is still on, providing a soft glow across the room and the orangy colour provides a warmth to their embrace that has my heart stuttering.
They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.
What the fuck happened whilst I was talking to Garrick and Hades?
And how is Wyatt here? Garrick told me Wyatt would be let go in the morning.
Granted, it is now morning but he hadn’t left at any point during our discussions.
We’d snuck upstairs to his office but he hadn’t asked any of his officers to let Wyatt go.
No, the tattooed cocky bastard currently snuggling my roommate should still be in a cell.
The sound of the door Wyatt rouses, eyes fluttering open and slowly pushing himself up on an elbow.
“Tacita, thank god,” he speaks softly but the relief is impossible to miss.
“What did I tell you about invoking the gods,” I snap, but keep my voice low as Milo sleeps on. “How the fuck are you here?”
“You didn’t think something like a cell could hold me, did you?” Wyatt responds, a lop-sided smirk stretching up one side of his beautiful face, showing me one of those beautiful dimples.
“You broke out?” I say, stunned. Those cells were made to hold supernaturals, even though the contestants are all human. Garrick had them built to full strength as we don’t know what we’re dealing with when it comes to the Angels.
“Yeah. It was a little challenging.” He lifts his hand off Milo’s hip and puts his thumb and index finger nearly touching. “But a little negotiating with the locking mechanism and it sprung free. I tried to find you but the rest of the cells were empty. Where did they move you to?”
“I must’ve already been in the interview room.” I let the words roll off my tongue, making them up as I go. “It was on another floor. That Head Guard asked me questions for hours, and I’m pretty sure Hades was there too.”
Mix the lies in with the truth, it always works.
“Wow. They really did think you did it, didn't they?”
“Wasting their time is what they’re doing. You know they’re going to go ballistic when they realise you’re here.” Garrick especially. “Why are you here?”
“Well, when I realised you weren’t in the cell block with me, I came straight here.
I expected to find you already released or something, but after picking the lock, I only found Milo.
” He looks down at the sleeping man next to him and a softness enters his eyes.
“I was going to come look for you some more, but he was a right mess, it took me ages to figure out that he was panicking about you. Poor guy seems really attached to you, did you know that?” Wyatt’s brows pull together like he’s trying to see through thick fog.
“He is my roommate,” I reply, shrugging off the fact that I have found Milo’s company to be good, more than good. In just a few days, I’ve already grown to like his presence.
Wanting off this topic so I don’t have to analyse my feelings I go to circle back to Wyatt’s insane lock picking skills but he derails my questioning before I can open my mouth.
“He spoke, you know?”
“What? When?” I move into the room, taking a seat on my bed opposite them. Milo hasn’t so much as squeaked around me. I was beginning to think his mutism was a physical disability rather than something within his mind.
“After I calmed him down enough so that he could write down what was making him so upset, he repeated the word sorry several times as I read his words.”
The surge of emotion at the fact that Milo felt comfortable enough to speak in front of Wyatt and not me has me momentarily biting my tongue. He’s seemed to be opening up to me more each day, and we spent a lot of the time communicating in various ways.
“Why was he upset?” I ask.
“I’m sure he won’t mind you reading it, his notepad is on the top.” Wyatt nods his head towards the little table between our beds.
I stretch over and pick it up, reading the note that looks stained with a couple of tears.
It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.
They’re going to punish her for it. I didn’t mean it. Really, I didn’t. I was telling the truth for once. I didn’t tell the guards anything, only that she was with you. Which was the truth. I should’ve lied, but we hadn’t discussed it. I thought I was doing the right thing. Please help her.
His words are scrawled across the page, written in haste and with an unsteady hand. But their meaning is clear. Milo blames himself for Garrick taking me away. He only did what I set him up to do, the cover story I put in place worked perfectly. It was Garrick who saw through it.
Setting the notepad down, my gaze returns to my roommate. He looks peaceful now, at least. Not that I should care, but the pang in my chest is telling me otherwise. I don’t like to think of him upset. And all alone. Especially now that I know his truth.
I know all the reasons each inmate was selected for this round of the games, and several facts about their backgrounds, their traumas.
Milo’s is particularly harrowing, even more so than what he’s already told me.
I’m surprised he can function as well as he does after what that prison put him through.
I’m also glad he managed to burn them all.
Until I’d got to that bit, I was mentally planning a trip back to the human realm once this was over.
Wyatt’s file is a string of accomplishments that reads like a compendium of every benchmark you could possibly obtain as an assassin. He’s got an impressive CV, annoyingly. It means each of those brags he makes is actually true. He’s not humble about them but neither am I.
Sort of.
I may have my anonymity but I love the attention the Death Bringer gets, love the accolades I collect as her. I guess Wyatt and I are alike in that we crave attention for our kills.
For fuck’s sake, I really am too tired, all these feelings keep stirring in my blood stream and it’s sickening.
Wyatt’s jaw goes slack as I stand and strip off my top. His eyes practically bug out when I take off my leggings too, that is until I fold back the covers on my bed and get between the sheets, wriggling to get comfy and closing my eyes.
“Damn, I thought you were joining us over here.”
“Why would I do that? These beds are hardly big enough as it is, let alone for three.”
“I could think of some ideas.” Wyatt chuckles.
I bet he can… and now those ideas are flitting behind my closed eye lids as well. “You can go back to your own room now, you know? I’m here to keep an eye on Milo, and he’ll be fine now I’m back.”
“Ooph, kicking me out?”
“It makes no difference to me. Just thought you might want your own bed.”
“I’m quite enjoying this one, thanks. I’m already snuggly and warm.”
“Suit yourself,” I huff and reach to turn out the light. If Wyatt likes cuddling with Milo so much, then I don’t care that he stays. I am done with today and am glad that tomorrow is our day off so I won’t have to get up.
Listening as Wyatt settles back down, the sheets ruffling, it’s only because of my demonic hearing that I understand as he softly says, “Goodnight, Mo Stór.”
Wyatt is thankfully gone when I wake and Milo is still asleep.
It can’t be that late as the light in the room is bright but the sun isn’t shining directly inside the window yet.
I stretch out my limbs under the covers before turning onto my stomach, intending to try and sleep some more when there is a gentle knock at the door.
I try to ignore it but then the door opens and I’m springing out of bed ready to deliver a knockout punch to whoever is entering. I almost reach for my knife.