Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Iwas still unsettled as we waited in line at the TSA. My belly flipped every time I thought about Vincent’s parents.
I knew they despised me, but for the first time, I wondered if there was something else fueling their hatred.
If it was just about me being the breadwinner or enabling Vincent to live out his dreams, I would have figured they’d be over it now that he was so successful.
Especially now, since he’d ditched me and knocked up Seraphina, who would be a lovely submissive wife for him.
They really had it in for me. This was war, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for war. I felt like there was something missing, a piece of the puzzle I hadn’t picked up yet.
I called my lawyer, Courtney, and left a message for her to get back to me, my gut churning the whole time.
I’d known Courtney for years; we’d been friends for a long time.
She had stepped in to help when I went to prison, offering her services when I was so drugged up I could barely think straight, and represented me pro-bono since the Andresanos froze our accounts.
But I’d lost everything in the court case. My whole life vanished in the blink of an eye, and I was left with nothing. I felt so guilty thinking that Courtney had failed me, especially since she stepped up to help me for free.
Gordon and Delilah weren’t above fabricating evidence; I already knew that. Something told me that this lawsuit wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.
I wasn’t the only one who was unsettled, though. Cress’s patience was dissolving rapidly at being herded through the airport security.
The line snaked around the cavernous space, inching forward at a snail’s pace.
“This is demeaning,” Cress thundered, stalking around, glaring at everyone. “What do you mean, I will need to remove my boots to go through? How do you put up with this, Chosen?”
“It’s the price we pay to fly, Cress. It’s for security purposes.”
“Security for what? These are not dragons we are flying; they are machines. Nobody will be hunting us in the sky.” Suddenly, an eager light flashed in her eyes. “Or is there? Will there be someone hunting us?”
“No.”
Her expression darkened again. “So, all this irritation, with no reward.” She turned around again, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.
Bart stood next to her. Cress was under the impression that she was guarding him, but in reality, he was supposed to be babysitting her through the indignities of the TSA so she wouldn’t punch someone. I caught his eye. Do your job, I mouthed at him.
She’s insane, he mouthed back, shaking his head. I’m terrified.
I pressed my lips together. It would be a miracle if we got through security at this stage. I would have offered to mind her myself, but Donovan insisted we travel together for safety reasons. He stood, as usual, just behind me.
We joined the long line for the x-ray machine. Cress tapped her foot impatiently, oblivious to the awed stares of all the everyday passengers around her.
Bart turned again and tugged on my sleeve. “You okay?”
“No.” I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the feeling of impending doom. “I can handle Jessica gunning for me because it’s my fault Audrina is missing. I can even understand Juliette teaming up with her. It sounds like those two are in cahoots.”
“Juliette never got over you and Vincent turning down her offer for a threesome. It must have been horribly humiliating for her, especially when people started gossiping about it.”
“Well, that would be your fault, Bart. I told you to keep it to yourself.” I blew out a breath. “Vincent’s parents are something else. I just don’t understand the vitriol. I keep thinking there’s got to be something else to it, something bigger than me.”
“I think I know. They’re the same as my parents. Conservative, old, and set in their ways.”
“That doesn’t explain their hatred.”
“It does, really. Most of their problem is that they felt like they had to give up their hopes and dreams to meet the expectations of their own parents.”
Donovan, brooding just behind me, gave a grunt. “As they should. Duty and family are everything.”
Bart deliberately stepped a foot to the left, out of swinging distance.
“And it made them bitter and angry.” He went on, eyeing Donovan cautiously.
“They didn’t get to do what they wanted to do with their lives; they were forced to follow traditions.
They probably had their own hopes and dreams outside of what their parents wanted them to do, but they didn’t feel like they could defy them. ”
“You cannot break tradition,” Donovan rumbled. “That is why it is called tradition.”
“Tradition is just peer pressure from dead people,” Bart said, edging back a bit more.
“Most of the time, it doesn’t serve us in any way.
A lot of the time, it actively harms people.
Look at me.” He flung his hands around, gesturing to himself.
“If my parents had their way, I’d be in the closet and absolutely miserable for my entire life. ”
I caught a glimpse of Donovan’s face; he looked defiant but thoughtful.
“You’re right,” I said to Bart. “I get why Vincent’s parents would be angry at Vincent for following his dreams when they couldn't follow theirs. But they’re angry at me. Not him. They took him back in, and they’re bankrolling him now.”
“He’s their only son. You’re an easy scapegoat for their outrage, I guess.”
A squeal of delight behind me stole my attention. Eryk and Nate were a little way back in the line, holding baby Cecil by the hands. Cecil, with a devilish grin, was making them swing him by the hands.
I was just glad he wasn’t smoking.
I turned back to Bart. “Gordon and Delilah are just so extreme. I didn’t even come close to killing Vincent; he just had a minor concussion and a couple of stitches. But they want to absolutely destroy me.”
Bart shrugged. “It could just be lead poisoning.” We shuffled forward, and, gesturing to Cress to pay attention, Bart strolled through the x-ray machine, gathered his things on the other side, and stood waiting for her.
Cress stalked through, the machine beeped, and the light above flashed red. A heavyset white woman in a TSA uniform waved her back and handed her a plastic container. “Take off any metal objects, piercings, belts, and place them in here.”
Cress pulled out a foot-long jeweled dagger from her pocket and put it in the container grudgingly.
“Hey,” the agent said, eyes narrowing. “What is that?”
Cress snapped her fingers, and green sparks flew. “It’s a belt.”
The agent relaxed back, eyes slightly glazed. “Oh. Okay. Head on back through.” She pointed to the x-ray gate.
Cress strode through again; it beeped. The light turned red.
The agent shook the plastic container. “Anything else metal on you?”
“Perhaps.” Cress frowned, patted herself down, and pulled out a strip of fabric with eight silver throwing knives sheathed inside, sharp tips gleaming wickedly under the fluorescent lights. She placed it in the container. “There.”
The agent’s eyes bulged. “What is?—”
More green sparks flew. “Feminine hygiene products,” Cress said.
“Oh. Okay. Anything else?”
“Wait.” Cress reached behind her shoulder and tugged something.
An enormous iron broadsword emerged. She placed it in the container.
“My, uh, it is a tool for embroidery. And these”—she tugged two ancient-looking three-pronged daggers from the small of her back—“are implements for posture alignment.”
“Scoliosis.” The TSA agent nodded dully. “My daughter wears a brace, too.”
“Oh, and”—Cress reached into her boot and pulled out a switchblade.—“this is a hair barrette. And this,” she said, pulling a wicked spiked ball on a chain out of nowhere. “This is a pretty ankle bracelet.”
The agent’s eyes dulled further. “All-righty then. Head on back through the gate.”
Cress stalked back through. The x-ray beeped; the light turned red. Cress growled and lashed out with her elbow, smashing the side of the machine. The light died; the beep turned into an electronic moan.
Cress turned, threw a handful of glittery green dust in the air, and scowled at the TSA agents around her. “Your security systems are malfunctioning.”
“Oh, they must be.” They all nodded mechanically as Cress replaced all her weapons, slotting them back into invisible sheathes on her body. “You’re okay, honey. Go on through.”
Bart reluctantly followed her. “Wait for me, darling…”
I sighed. How nice it would be to be Cress.
And not because she was young, absolutely gorgeous, and bonded to Donovan.
Cress knew exactly what she was doing. If there was a problem she couldn’t solve, she just punched it in the face until it went away.
I envied her strength, but most of all, I was jealous of her confidence. Cress didn’t doubt herself.
I used to be like that. I missed that certainty, that self-belief. Now, all I had left was a niggling doubt that I was missing something important.