Chapter 17
Myles
“What do you mean, you killed them?” I demand.
“Exactly what it sounds like,” Arson says with a casual shrug. “Slit Mom’s throat, but dear old Dad I tore apart piece by piece.” His lips twist derisively. “Better end than either of those sons of bitches deserved.”
Nausea twists my stomach. The guy’s a psychopath. What kind of person casually confesses to brutally murdering their parents? Our parents.
Arson crosses his arms over his chest. “You think I’m a monster.”
“N-no, I just...”
Just what? What could I even say that would buy me time to get Ever far away from this psycho?
“Yeah, actually.” I swallow, standing to my full height and preparing for the ass-kicking of my life. “But can you really blame me?”
An indecipherable look flashes across the rogue assassin’s eyes before I can decipher it. “You didn’t know them like I did. Otherwise you’d see that I was doing the world a favor.”
Ever claps her hands once sharply. “I’d say this conversation calls for a beer, don’t you guys? I’ll go get some and let you two talk.”
“Oh, angel, you’re no one’s serving girl.” Glancing around the lobby I use for project consults, Arson picks up Ever and sets her on the front desk, ignoring her protests as he points a warning finger at me. “Watch her until I get back.” Then he disappears into thin air.
I don’t hesitate, knowing every second counts. “Come on.” I lunge forward to grab Ever’s hand and drag her through the door into my workshop. There’s nowhere in this town she can hide that Arson can’t access, so Ever’s only shot of escape is the prototype I stayed up all night working on for her.
“Where are we going?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder and relaxing a bit when she sees no one's chasing us.
Snatching the necklace off one of my work tables, I slide the silver chain over her head.
The opal pendant is framed by intricate metalwork that appears like lace, completely innocuous.
Nobody would suspect it was anything other than a pretty piece of jewelry, even if they looked closely.
“Pinch the pendant with your thumbprint pressing into the back and focus on the need to hide. It’ll allow you to disappear, even mask your scent while you escape.
Understand? Pinch it again while focusing on the feeling of being safe, and it’ll deactivate. ”
She gives me a wary look. “Myles, Arson isn’t a threat to either of us. You know that… right?”
“That man is the definition of a threat.”
“Fair, but isn’t everyone capable of hurting someone under the right circumstances?” she argues. “I know if someone attacked me, I wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to defend myself, even if it killed them. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it.”
I swallow; hard. She doesn’t know how right she is, and that’s exactly why she needs to get far away from Arson…
and me. Mysts are dangerous, and good people get hurt when we lose control.
Arson doesn’t look like he knows the definition of the word, and it’s only a matter of time before Ever gets caught in the crossfire.
Oblivious to my internal freak out, Ever continues, “He must’ve had a good reason for killing his, your, parents, don’t you think?
Otherwise why would he say anything when it could destroy the relationship he’s hoping to build with you?
He could’ve taken that secret to the grave.
” She lifts the chain, admiring the pendant before tucking it down her shirt.
“You’re the reason he came here, you know.
He left home to search for his long lost brother.
So all I’m asking is for you to hear him out before you decide he’s the enemy. Please?”
Wait. He left his guild and became a rogue to find me? But why? I’m nothing special.
Maybe he wants to finish what he started and is tying up loose ends so he can get an inheritance or something. That makes more sense. At least while he’s busy murdering me, Ever will be able to make a break for it.
With a heavy exhale, I resign myself to my fate.
“Alright. But if this doesn’t go like you’re hoping, run and don’t look back.
Until we know what you are and if you have any abilities, you need some way to protect yourself.
Promise me you’ll always wear it, just in case.
It’s waterproof, so leave it on in the shower.
You never know when shit might hit the fan. ”
Brow scrunched up in concern, she tentatively dips her head in agreement, keeping her thoughts to herself. Good thing too, because not two seconds later Arson returns with several bottles of liquor, mixers, and a case of beer.
“Discount therapy is now in session!”
I frantically clear off a spot before he crushes anything as my workspace is turned into a bar. Arson disappears again, popping back with a handful of full sized drinking glasses.
“Pick your poison,” he asks Ever, sweeping an arm at the wide selection.
If I wasn’t scrutinizing him so closely, waiting for him to pull the knife he’s going to use to slit my throat, I’d have missed the way his eyes flick anxiously between Ever and the bottles, almost like…
he’s nervous. If he’d offered me a drink first, I’d assume the ‘pick your poison’ comment was literal, but despite my feelings where Arson’s concerned, I have to reluctantly admit that Ledger’s right.
He would never intentionally hurt Ever. He looks at her like she hung the moon and clearly is angling for her to accept him as one of her mates. It’s the intentional part that worries me though, because the man has far too much power for someone so reckless and unhinged.
“Oh sweet, I love peaches.” Grabbing a glass, Ever pours herself a heavy-handed splash of peach rum and fills up the rest of the glass with some sort of berry juice, taking a drink and making a happy little hum. “Perfect. Want to try a sip?”
The rigid tension in Arson’s shoulders relaxes a fraction. “Absolutely.” He drinks from the same spot she did, giving her a heated look. “Delicious.”
Her cheeks warm, but she tears her gaze away from him to offer me her glass. “Interested?”
In you? Far more than I should be when I don’t stand a snowball’s chance in Hell.
My cheeks warm. “Um, sure.” If I’m living on borrowed time, why the hell not? Maybe if I get drunk enough, it won’t even hurt when my brother drives a knife into my back.
It goes down so smooth, I can barely even tell there’s any alcohol in it. “Oh, wow, that’s really good.”
She beams and my heart skips a beat. Fates, she’s pretty.
“I’ll make you one, give me a sec.” She bounces off before I can stop her, but it’s obvious what she’s doing. Plying me with alcohol to keep me from freaking out after our conversation so I’ll stick around and give Arson a chance to explain.
Honestly, it’s a solid plan.
She leads the way back to the front of my workshop and sits beside me on the leather couch. Arson drops down in the chair across from us, using his shadows to put the coffee table back in place and setting down the open bottles he brought with him from the back.
Eventually, Ever breaks the awkward silence. “Sooooo, Arson. I’m going out on a limb here and assuming I’m not the only one with a million questions.”
His shoulders slump. “My parents- ours, sorry, that’ll take some getting used to,” he corrects, shooting me a glance.
“They weren’t good people. Managed to piss off some powerful people that took out a hit on them.
When they realized the Shadow Knight Guild was after them, they knew they were fucked.
So in a last ditch effort, they left me behind with a note as they fled in the middle of the night.
Ideally, our parents hoped they’d accept me as payment for their debt; the people they pissed off had ties to the skin trade, or might just be looking for an indentured servant they could keep around the house.
But if not, they’d still stand a better chance living on the run without a kid in tow.
” Face twisting in a scowl, he grunts, “I was five.”
My stomach twists as I breathe, “What the actual fuck?”
“The assassin assigned to the job showed up a few hours later, read the note, and was furious,” he continues. “Rather than hand me over and offer the proposed deal, he brought me back to the guild and paid off our parents’ debt.”
Ever scowls. “Why the hell would he pay it for those bastards?”
“Karma. Those kills were mine, and he made sure they’d be waiting for me when I was ready.” As Arson fills up his glass, I finish off mine and hold it out for a refill.
“Mom tried to justify their actions, so I slit her throat. I was there for closure, not to be her verbal punching bag. Dad, though, made a terrible mistake; he tried to bargain. Told me I had a brother, and if I let him live, he’d tell me where to find him.
” The gruesome scar on Arson’s cheek pulls into a haunting sight as he grins.
“I don’t negotiate with monsters. I remind them that there’s always a bigger one out there. ”
Ever subtly nudges my shoulder with hers when I sit there silently gaping for far too long.
“Shit, sorry. I just… don’t know what to say. That’s fucked up, man.”
Arson snorts, lifting his glass in agreement. “What’d your parents tell you about how they adopted you?”