Chapter 70 Gedeon
GEDEON
Sputtering, Livana choked on her water.
Smugness filled me to the brim at her discomfort. Nobody insulted my possessions and walked away dry.
As her coughing fit echoed in the apartment, Peter removed the stopper from the crystal decanter. “This is what you chose for yourself, Son?” Pouring the amber liquid into his glass, he sneered, “A foul-mouthed woman and a man?”
My molars creaked as I failed to keep myself composed. It wasn’t a secret that all three cities disapproved of any relations between two same-sex individuals. According to their doctrine, sex was a tool, a means, a method to ensure reproduction, and for that, you needed a dick and a vagina.
Rolling in bed for fun and games bordered on being considered an offense. I wouldn’t be surprised if they would outlaw it if given the opportunity.
But hearing the man you shared genetic material with ridicule your belongings, now that crossed the line.
Pressed against Zion, holding on to him like a lifeline, I absorbed his presence, imagining it as an anchor tethering me to the milk-hued floor.
This kill wasn’t mine.
So I did nothing besides keep my mouth shut. My father did not deserve a reply.
“After your good-for-nothing mother ran away and gave birth to you outside our wall, I thought both of you had perished. But once I had learned of you becoming a leader, like your father, I had high hopes for you, Gedeon.” The Head of Ilasall traced the rim of his glass.
“Now, I know it was a mistake.” He took a sip, and I wished I was free to smash the crystal in his face.
“But at least one of my children knows the right way.”
“You mean Ezra.” I stated the obvious conclusion. Not that I considered him or Peter my family. Blood was not the thing that forged family ties.
“I see you have met your brother. How is he doing, by the way? I haven’t seen him since we dropped him at the curb for your people to pick up.
When was it?” My father ran a hand through his blond hair, a stark contrast to the black curls my mother had sported.
“Something like two years ago, I believe.”
Almost. Eighteen months in total.
I was going to make Ezra pay for each day he had pretended to be a friend, burrowed his way into our inner circle, all the while, he relayed our secrets back to Ilasall.
“He escaped.” There was no point in embellishing the matters. “Don’t tell me— You didn’t know that?” I shook my head. “You should have better control of your snakes, Father.”
Peter’s chuckle pierced me like thorns of a poisonous bush. “You didn’t break his legs? Oh, I have much to teach you.” He tilted his glass toward me. “Heed my advice: you cannot lead without discipline.”
“I’m aware.” Untangling myself from Zion, I glanced at the door and back to him—a silent question.
He dipped his chin in confirmation—he would guard the only entrance and exit point besides the elevator.
Marching to the bar my father lingered at, I ignored how I left bloody footprints on the immaculate floor, the squelching a song accompanying my journey. “It’s part of my plan.”
“And what exactly does your strategy entail?” The Head of Ilasall gestured at the collection of crystal bottles. “Help yourself.”
“To teach you a lesson.” Selecting the safest option, I poured myself a glass of the same drink my father was savoring.
“You see, I have a fascination with bones. But I would rather keep my hands clean tonight. I have more than enough of your men’s blood on me already.
” Dunking my forefinger into the chilled liquid, I swirled the golden drink, ridding myself of death’s fluids.
“So how does Zion sawing your arm off and me using it to knock you out sound?”
“I like it,” Kali piped in, balancing her knife on two fingers. “He wouldn’t be able to wail like a baby then.”
“You think you can touch him?” Livana placed her empty glass in the silver sink, the metal spotless, sparkling even in the lack of sunlight.
“You can’t do shit, you despicable leech.
You have no power here.” Her screeching leaked disdain.
Although she was much shorter than Kali, that didn’t stop her from looking down her nose.
“So gather your trash”—the green-banded woman waved at me and Zion—“and get the fuck out. This playground isn’t for kids. ”
I flicked the wetness off my forefinger. Surprise, surprise, my father’s taste in women spun solely about their looks. The vetting process definitely didn’t involve inspection of their brains—containing grey matter or not.
In one smooth glide, Kali hopped off the kitchen island. “Did you just call my men trash?”
My men.
I had to suppress a rumbling groan about to rise from my throat.
Leaning against the counter, Livana folded her arms, her breasts spilling out from the tight bodice of her white dress. “Be glad I didn’t point out what they actually are—worms that belong underground.”
Her insult bounced off me like a rubber ball, but Peter’s jaw flexed as he observed Kali sauntering around the kitchen island and coming to a stop at the corner.
As one could expect, my father didn’t know where to direct his attention. For example, to the blade peeking out of Zion’s fist as he guarded the entrance.
“So if they’re parasites, then what am I?” Kali asked so sweetly, it masked the venom boiling in her words.
“A cunt not worth breeding,” Livana scoffed. “A—”
A strike of steel silenced her. One second, she was standing, and the next, her body fell.
Her head hit the floor, adorned with a black rubber handle peeking out of her left eye socket. Bodily fluids trickled down her face, her blood as crimson as her lipstick and nails.
My core spasmed. Ruthlessness rippled in the air around Zion—a bubble of viciousness. Madness had invaded him through the deep gash opening his cheek to the elements.
I wanted to join that insanity on the front lines, slither under his skin, wear him, ravage him until he forgot who he was.
Zion tipped his chin to Kali, and she flushed, rushing to crouch near Livana’s corpse.
“You’re lucky you were standing too far, or Zion would’ve made you eat your own tongue.” Kali twisted the knife left and right, turning the eyeball into porridge. “And that’s always messy.”
“Pity.” Peter surveyed his dead companion.
“I rather liked this one.” With one elbow resting on the bar, he sipped his bourbon.
“Oh, well. I can pick up a fresh one straight from school tomorrow.” He studied Kali as she plucked the blade out and wiped the goo on Livana’s dress, soiling the bright fabric.
“Although…being a leader has its privileges. Perhaps I’ll just take her. ”
I swirled my glass, the golden liquid almost splashing beyond the rim. “I would like to see you try.” Mimicking Peter’s position, I leaned against the bar counter. “Especially when you will flounder headless on the floor, like a fish out of water.”
“I see we’re done with the niceties.” He unhooked the top button of his crisp shirt. “Let’s get to business then. I have a proposal for you.”
“Go on.” I tapped the side of my glass. “We don’t have all day.”
“Retreat your forces and I will graciously allow you and your chosen friends to select any life they want in the city. A position in one of our divisions? Done.” Peter twirled his wrist, showcasing his emerald band.
“Green-banded privileges without the obligation of conceiving children? Consider it approved.”
I shifted, making myself more comfortable against the edges of the bar counter. “And the rest of my people?”
“As you can imagine, reparations will be required.” He gobbled down the dregs of his bourbon and wiped his mouth.
“Everyone will go through fertility testing. The fertile ones will continue their existence immersed in luxuries as long as they reproduce, and the others… Well, let’s just say, someone will have to pay for the deaths of Ilasall’s upstanding citizens.
A public execution should suffice. Witnessing the renegades of our regime perish should steer any would-be rebels back on the right track. ”
As I placed my glass on the bar, the glasslike surface reflected my scarlet-streaked face. “And where would you see me, your son?”
“It would be up to you.” The Head of Ilasall scratched his freshly-shaven jaw, over a tiny speck of red—he must have nicked himself this morning. “You could become my right-hand—we could find you a title—or a Head of one of the divisions. Or even of a new one. My son would have his pick.”
“And my partners?” I gestured to Zion hovering by the door and Kali situated back on the kitchen island, both watching us.
“Gedeon.” Peter clapped my shoulder, and the contact, the closeness between us, it stirred the revulsion slumbering inside my gut.
“You know our rules. All couples are made out of two, and with you being a man, well, your partner must be…” He jerked his chin at Kali.
“Of course, unofficially, I wouldn’t stop you from seeing him”—he gestured at Zion—“but caution would need to be exercised. More depraved things occur behind the closed doors than your trio, but that’s how it must remain—a secret.
At most, a rumor our citizens would dismiss. ”
His offer wrapped around me like barbed wire. I was not a coward, a rule follower, or a subservient resident. Nor did I have any plans to become one.
“So what do you say, Son? Do we have a deal?” Ilasall’s leader unfastened the second button of his shirt.
So much for not sweating in my presence.
“Or would you rather become a witness to your people’s slaughter?
” He extended a hand to me. “Time is of the essence here.” When I didn’t shake it, he sighed.
“My proposal stands for now and that’s it. Seal it or walk away, Gedeon.”
I traced the rim of my glass. “I’d rather choose the third option.”
Peter’s blond eyebrows furrowed. “And what would that be?”
“Keeping my promise.” The carving in the crystal strengthened my grip as I smashed the glass right into Peter’s mouth.
Fragments lodged in his face and razed my palm, but the satisfaction in shutting my father up numbed the blazing ache obliterating my nerves.
Shards clattered to the floor, exploding around my combat boots and Peter’s polished leather shoes. He gaped at me, the realization of what had transpired dawning in tandem with the pain—
Howling, he fell to his knees. Blood streamed from the fresh lacerations tearing his lips and cheeks. Even his gums. The minuscule pieces had embedded themselves in the sensitive tissue surrounding his teeth.
“Listening to you was entertaining for a while.” I flexed my hand to check if any glass bits had found a home in my flesh. “But I am not picking one of my partners and hiding the other.”
Groaning, Peter sagged against the bar. The glasslike surface reflected the red soaking his white button-up shirt in messy streaks.
Taking a step back from the crying figure attempting to inspect his face, I told Kali, “He’s yours.”
Hesitation slowed her jump off the kitchen island. “But he’s your family. I can’t be the one to kill him.”
“This vermin is not my father,” I said. “My father’s name was Aidan.
He was the one who raised me. Peter? He’s a stranger to me.
And there will be others. We have six Heads remaining—their deaths will be enough for me.
” I nodded toward the wailing Head of Ilasall.
“He’s yours, little death. Consider Peter my gift to you. ”
Gradually, like a rising sun, she lit up until she was beaming at me, a bounce in her step as she crossed the vast apartment.
Gods, she was beautiful. Dressed in a soldier’s uniform, sporting a million slashes all over, smeared in red, but utterly perfect.
Without second-guessing, she kicked Peter’s side, the blow sending him sideways. He sprawled onto his back alongside the bar, and I moved out of what was soon going to become a bloodbath.
“Alora is dead because of you.” Kali flipped the knife Zion had used to kill Livana. “My friends have suffered because of you.” Lowering to straddle my father, she swatted his flailing arms away. “But no more.” Positioning the blade at his neck, she hissed, “No more lies and no more wristbands.”
If I wasn’t aware of my surroundings, I would have missed Zion silently prowling around the sunken living room. “Your hand.” Warm fingers enfolded my wrist as he checked my injuries, his scarlet-dotted features scrunching up. “It’s not too deep. You won’t need stitches.”
I didn’t doubt him. He could determine whether someone needed thread to weave their skin back together as well as Eislyn or the doc.
Experience taught you that.
“Can you keep an eye on her while I go wash up?” I didn’t need an infection from the dirt Peter was.
Zion grinned. “No need.” As he kissed my palm, my pulse thrummed. His tongue swept over the wounds, pricking, burning, soothing, twisting my insides until I groaned. Licking my blood off his lips, he closed his eyes. “Delicious.”
“Fuck,” Kali grunted. “Why is this so damn hard?”
Our attention whirled to her. Hunched over the lifeless figure, she rotated Peter’s head in different directions, his throat a bloody pulp. A pool of crimson had gathered underneath him—she had practically hacked his head off with her knife.
Only his vertebrae prevented his corpse from being dismembered.
Straining, huffing, she turned his head all the way around, and a loud snap echoed as the appendage popped free of the body.
“Finally.” Coated in a layer of fresh scarlet, she rose to her feet, Peter’s head in her hand. “He’s disgusting.” She tossed it aside, and the body part rolled across the hardwood floor, leaving a reddish trail.
It bounced off the couch, rolling back a few turns before coming to a stop, the brown eyes glazed over, the mouth slashed apart, the neck boasting uneven edges.
Beside me, Zion trembled. “Pretty birdie,” he whispered, mesmerized.
In the years I’d known him, his hoarseness meant only one thing—trouble.