Chapter 3 #4
Yep. Bellamy is too skinny, making those eyes take up almost too much space on her face, but the dark hair, dark-olive skin, and chiseled cheekbones are an exact match to our eldest brother.
“Another fucking genius, I see.” Bellamy doesn’t take her gaze off Presh. “Poor fucking Zaya. To be stuck with you three.”
I see it then — her attachment to Presh and vice versa.
Exactly what Zaya must have seen when she decided to not simply end Bellamy in the barrens despite her collaboration with the Authority and the trap she had set up.
Still, with Reck’s two agents in the Cataclysm’s pocket, it seems a safe bet that all this shit has been radiating from the same source.
“Zaya is the Conduit to you,” Rath rumbles threateningly. “That’s who saved your fucking life when the rest of us would have ended you for the shit you’ve done.”
“Fratricide.” Bellamy shudders affectedly. “Wow, that’s dark. Even for me.”
“Tell us everything you know about the Cataclysm’s systems and operations and how we penetrate them.”
“And what’s on offer? It’s getting a little … boring in here. The baby sister only gets in to visit once a week or so.”
Presh meeps, totally caught out.
“Have you got my chocolate?” Bellamy blinks innocently at our younger sister.
“So you’re a fucking rat as well,” Rath snarls, clearly all over the fucking place right now.
“Might as well play the game if you already have the name.” Bellamy wiggles her fingers at Presh.
“I don’t even know what that means,” Rath mumbles to me.
Bellamy rolls her eyes at him. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart brother.”
Presh huffs out a sigh, then fishes three small packages out of her hoodie pocket — the same caramel-shortbread chocolate bars that Coda eats obsessively, and no doubt purloined from the tech’s stash.
“You bring her treats? Weekly?” Rath shifts as if to snatch the chocolate from Presh, but she quickly drops to evade his reach — exactly as we’ve fucking taught her during our near-obsessive training sessions. Then she spins around my legs and pops up on the other side of DeVille.
My other half-brother from a different father helpfully keys open the lock on the drawer built into the holding cell, letting Presh drop the bars into it before Rath can make another attempt to take them from her.
DeVille slams the drawer shut, very deliberately not making eye contact with Rath. Or me.
“Thank you, Andy,” Presh says, perfectly politely, even as she also keeps her gaze away from ours.
Bellamy rises, crossing to open the opposite side of the drawer. DeVille draws Presh a step back, and she allows it, though there isn’t any way for Bellamy to reach through the drawer and make a grab for her.
“I never craved sweets,” Bellamy says almost musingly as she greedily rips the wrapping partially off one of the chocolate bars. “You know, before …”
Rath huffs. “Being a fucking dire mage —”
“Awry.” Bellamy snaps a piece of the chocolate-coated caramel and cookie off the bar, popping it in her mouth and making a show of sucking on it before chewing.
The Outcast sends two enforcers, usually backed by a mage — most often Pinky — down here with food once a day.
Dessert isn’t a high priority, nor are any dietary restrictions Bellamy might have.
Not that she’s made a single request. Requests require concessions, and the dire awry isn’t making any of those either.
Rath shifts on his feet, steadying his stance until he looms as much as possible over the dire awry despite the spelled polymer barrier between them. “As I was saying —”
“Formerly,” Presh whispers. “Formerly dire.”
“You can’t believe that,” Rath snaps at Presh, instantly derailed from his attempted intimidation.
“I do,” Presh says earnestly. “You weren’t there, you didn’t see —”
“I wasn’t there because you fucking risked everything! You risked Zaya! All you had to fucking do was reach out, reach out to any of us!”
Presh’s eyes flood with tears, and she struggles to hold them at bay. “I know, I just … you wouldn’t have listened. You would have —”
“No,” Rath snarls. “You don’t know. You have no fucking idea what it’s like to …” He visibly reins himself in, inhaling deeply, then glancing over at Bellamy.
She grins, too widely. Then she pops another hunk of the chocolate bar in her mouth, talking around it.
“Don’t stop on my account. I’m loving this display of sibling harmony.
What’s the problem again? That you can’t figure out how to rescue your soul-bound mate?
Yeah, huffing and puffing and tearing into your little sister will certainly help with that. ”
Rath shifts all his ever-present ire onto the former dire awry in the cell. “You … you’re ultimately to blame.”
“Yes,” Bellamy says agreeably. “Hence me being in here …” She flicks fingers smudged with chocolate and caramel. “And you being —”
“Enough!” Rath roars.
Presh slaps her hands over her ears. “Don’t you yell at her! She’s doing her penance!”
“It’s not enough,” Rath pants. “It will never be enough.”
Presh’s face falls, nodding. She turns to deliberately meet Bellamy’s gaze. “I know. But she’s our sister. She never had … you. The three of you. To make sure she didn’t … suffocate. That he didn’t … hurt her, make her do things …”
DeVille shoulders me out of the way to loop an arm around the front of Presh’s shoulders. She leans back into his chest, just a little, but doesn’t drop her gaze from Bellamy.
The former dire awry looks … shaken. Then supremely pissed off.
She crumples the empty wrapper of the first bar she practically inhaled in her fist, deliberately meeting my gaze, then Rath’s.
“You’re such fucking idiots,” Bellamy snaps.
“Zaya is the manifestation of destiny. Give her an inch and she’ll liberate an entire fucking country. ”
“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Rath growls.
“Zaya just needs an opening.” Reck’s voice emanates from the darkest corner of the corridor. I have no fucking idea how long he’s been lurking there, or how we didn’t pick up his presence before.
My eldest brother steps fully out of the shadows.
He looks fucking awful. He’s lost weight too quickly and is only sleeping when whatever essence-brewed drugs he’s mainlining take him under.
He’s still wearing his stupid suits, though.
I suspect he just doesn’t have any other clothing and can’t be bothered to shop. “She needs —”
“We’ve been pushing the border,” I interrupt. It’s either that or taking my fist to Reck’s face. “Remotely shutting down their systems weekly. Rath lost a fucking antler —”
“Like I said,” Bellamy rasps. “Fucking idiots. When was the last time you all faced off against him? All at once? You’re fucking mythical beasts bound to the manifestation of destiny.
Why do you think he fucking let you go to the Outcast MC in the first place?
Even though he must have known it would divide your loyalties?
He wants you leashed but not too close, not close enough to try to take him.
Make it fucking happen, give Zaya the inch she needs, and she’ll do the rest.”
“Every one of us is willing to die for her,” Rath snaps, clearly insulted. “We’ve all nearly died for her. We’d —”
Bellamy laughs sourly. “Try living for her first, you reckless fucks.”
Her rejoinder — the pure truth threaded through the sneered sarcasm — hits me like a physical blow to the chest, practically knocking the air from my lungs.
“Hello, twin,” Bellamy says mockingly, eyeing Reck malevolently. “Give us a kiss?”
Before any of us can snap back at her, Presh’s sweet voice cuts through that bullshit. “You said you wouldn’t do that anymore.”
Bellamy purses her lips, annoyed. “I said I’d try.”
“Was that trying?”
“You said you’d get me out of this cage. Legitimately.”
“I will,” Presh promises, earnest and true. “Help us get Zaya back, and I get you out even faster.”
Bellamy snorts. Then, clearly thinking, she slowly unwraps the second chocolate bar. She opens her mouth to speak.
I interrupt. “No more bargaining.”
“No more stupid metaphors,” Rath adds.
She smirks. “Just lay it all out, huh?”
“You want a family,” Presh says, desperately sweet. “Family. True family, they live and die for each other. Right?”
“Draw his attention,” Bellamy says with a shrug, though I can practically see the thoughts and calculations shifting behind those light-lavender eyes. “Hold it as long as you can. That’s how I survived. And that’s how Zaya will walk away from him.”
“We’ve been doing that,” Reck snaps.
“We?” Rath mocks, not looking at our eldest brother. I really can’t look at him either.
“Misdirection,” Bellamy muses. “The timing just has to be perfect, and I can —”
Coda’s voice interrupts whatever supposed gem of wisdom the former dire awry was about to impart. “I’ve got eyes on the Cataclysm.”
“What?” Rath snaps.
Since Zaya was taken, we haven’t been able to get anywhere near to seeing the Cataclysm. Not even a glimpse except for the face-to-face assault during which Rath lost an antler.
“Has he left the Federation?” Reck asks.
“Nope.” Coda pops the P hard, the sound of their fingers loud in the background as they fly over their keyboards.
The tech must have had the call silenced before.
“Hospital. Public fucking hospital in the middle of Fort Worth. Clear as fucking day. No idea why my face-rec software decided today was the day to pick him up. What’s that?
About an hour’s drive from the main compound? ”
“He’s got compounds all over the Federation,” Rath says, always having to correct everything even though we all know how much of the Federation our sperm donor controls.
“Manifestation of destiny,” Bellamy murmurs thoughtfully.
“He’s isolated there,” Reck says. “Or more isolated than usual, at least. If we all go … take the Outcast’s copter, get flyover privileges from the Navajo —”
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Bellamy interjects. “Whatever is happening at the hospital, that’s the distraction. What’s the main event? Something bigger. Split his focus.”
Coda’s fingers are flying again. Then the tech says, “Three of the outposts along the border to the Navajo Nation are compromised. The UnBroken MC are holding them for now.”
The UnBroken MC. They liked to damage insignificant property and post rants on social media, all while masked.
In the Federation, they’re actually a charter of the legit MC based in the eastern United States, calling themselves a freedom militia.
But they’re more annoyances to the Cataclysm than an actual threat.
“They actually got off their asses?” I say, surprised, because Coda and I have been feeding intel to the Federation charter of the UnBroken, generally encouraging them to get their shit together and do some actual damage. It had seemed like a long shot.
“I’m coming with you!” Presh preemptively cries.
“Absolutely not,” I say.
“No fucking way,” Rath says.
Reck chimes in with, “Under no circumstances are you to leave the protection of —”
“No, darling Precious.” Bellamy’s voice cuts through our protests. “You’ll just distract our brothers. You know they only have so many brain cells to share between them, and they need to move faster than you can move right now.”
Presh’s chin trembles as she looks over all of us, one at a time, settling last on Bellamy. “Okay,” she whispers. “I’ll stay.”