Chapter 9 #2
“A man named Bosco. He’s a steelworker in the Garden. He said some of his lads were talking about rumours their friends had heard. It’s really a bit of a whisper chain. Might be worth asking Alfieri in case he has any contacts that know how they got their hands on such supplies in the first place.”
“Alfieri would’ve told us if he’d heard anything like this.” Idris’s deep voice burns like a sharp blade to the back of my head. I hate that I flinch and pull my arms tightly to my chest.
“Of course he would, but perhaps he can ask questions and glean more information,” I respond in as detached a tone as I can manage.
“Explosives in that number would be hard to smuggle into this city without someone seeing something. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to coordinate with Savino before catching Leone and Maggia before sundown. ”
I make to escape the room but Idris steps into my path, blocking my exit.
My breath turns to a hot lump in my throat as I wrench my eyes away from him.
I need the space, need the feeling of ease that simply not looking at him offers.
I’d take any distance right now because my strength lies in torn tatters at my feet as the inferno rages in my bones.
He stands there for a long moment, seeming to chew over his words before speaking.
“Let me handle this,” Idris states eventually.
I blink hard, shock running cold down my spine, quickly chased by indignation.
Him? Who has been nothing but silent and surly for weeks?
He whose name is the rallying cry of those in this city who wish to see me dead?
Him? A horrible, rotten part of me can’t help but wonder if he’s part of it.
I can’t stay here. The fire bites at my fingers as dark, compelling whispers scream in my head.
“Don’t bother,” I answer with a hollow laugh and roll my eyes. “You made it clear that you only give a damn about this city on your own terms. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you after all this time.”
Idris bristles, his hot, golden gaze snapping up to my face as I walk past him.
“I’ll handle it,” Idris repeats firmly, following me.
Not allowing me even an inch of space. I can’t help it.
The laughter that comes out of me is wild, untamed and exasperated.
It shakes my entire body, folding me over my stomach at the audacity of the statement as tears of mirth well in my eyes.
I laugh and laugh, until realty stops me sharp and cold.
I shake my head as I walk away. Is this boy really so delusional?
“Handle it? Fate’s Fury, that’ll be the day,” I mutter to myself, cold and exasperated.
Is this what I’m left with? Disparaging the man I used to think I couldn’t live without? I handed him my life without a second thought not weeks ago, and now I don’t trust he’d get off the sofa even if I broke my knees begging.
I head for the door, a hand raised to my brow in exasperation, as though I can rub some of my problems away. If only Fate had that mercy, but he has none.
Fate always wins.
Idris’s hand shoots out, wrapping like searing steel around my elbow. A bonfire jumps up my arms, and I flinch away and elicit a strangled gasp at the pain, eyes closing against the unexpected fire.
“I said I’ll handle it!” Idris repeats, angry voice cracking like a whip. I give him a dead stare.
“Rat faeces hold more value than your promises, Patricelli. I don’t believe you.
Why don’t you go back to sitting limp in the corner and complaining while I do the work of trying to solve the never-ending hurricane of problems we’re facing?
” I answer with venom. Idris straightens up, his face pulling terribly at the words as he retorts with cold rage.
His fingers tighten on my arm, biting into the skin as anger courses through my trembling body.
“Is that what you think of me?” Idris demands.
“Your actions speak for you, and you have been mute for weeks,” I hiss at him, my threadbare control shattering before my eyes as I yank against his arm, trying to pull away.
“While our city hangs in the worst peril it’s faced in centuries, what have you done to help prepare us for war?
I won’t waste my time coddling your bruised ego.
A terrible attack is coming against my city and I have to stop it.
Go ahead, throw your whiney, petulant tantrum.
I simply don’t have anything in me going spare to answer it. Now let go!”
I yank hard against his grip, but his other hand shoots forwards.
Straight for my face. I yelp, launching backwards as his fingers skate under my jaw, wiping something from under my ear.
His scorching skin against my pulse point spits pain through my entire body, snapping my lingering restraint and rendering it charred dust.
With the full force of our Soulbond, my hand whips around, slapping him hard. His face recoiling from pain makes me feel suddenly euphoric even as my palm sings and blood rushes to my ears.
“Traitor!” I scream at him as Tahira tears forwards. She grabs hold of me, hauling me away from her friend as he stares at his fingers, frozen. The tips tinted red.
“Why are you wearing blood?” demands Idris hotly as Tahira wrestles me out the door.
I’m no match for her, even on my best day.
And this is far from it. I am exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally.
Holding on by the barest of tethers. Tahira shoves me through the front door, closing it behind me.
I kick the door in frustration and the entire frame shakes with the force of my anger. I stalk towards my carriage again. Stupid Patricelli and his ghastly, awful, arrogant ego!
Tears well in my eyes as the acid leaves my breath and the hairs on my arms drop. As that fire fades, an empty coldness settles in my gut. A numbness where the world is made of cotton wool or treacle.
I bend over my shaky knees as I steady myself. The world is spinning around me as I suck in a cool, shuddering breath and swallow tightly. I have things to do. An emergency to handle.
The dark whispers curl around my ear again. Not directed at Idris, this time they turn their seductive whisper to me. Feeding my exhaustion, my loneliness, my weakness.
I don’t have time for this. Time for him. Time for me.
I need to find Savino.
I can wallow in guilt, shame and self-pity another time.