07-21-2018, 08:56 AM
He didn’t understand the question. The moment her own logic strung the pieces together, Jay’s followed. Alvis must have had a reason to go to the bar searching Natalie’s last known location. He found the wallet, abandoned and called the last connection. He called Jay. What sent Alvis to that bar in the first place? Someone set him to hunt. The same someone that Natalie missed meeting. He felt his jaw tense, imagining what she went through. That sadistic bastard that he saw in the tunnel. His hands on her. His face near hers. His breath on her skin. The heat in his gut fanned the power in the back of his head to life, tempting him to take hold and burn the city down around them just on the chance that he found that bastard’s scorched skeleton in the ashes. Someday, he would find that man. It would not go well for him.
It wasn’t hard to imagine Danjou and Brandon sitting in the same room. This was the same man that sacrificed lives at the refinery for a delayed victory elsewhere. Brandon, well, no surprises there. Jay wasn’t that naïve. Yet, Danjou was also the one that marched into Jeddah to evacuate the city before terrorists overran the field. He was brilliant. They both were. Though he couldn’t explain it, he trusted Brandon. The relief that washed over him when the Ascendancy found him was illogical, but yet real. Jay wasn’t bartered, he was made an offer.
I said yes. He sold his soul willingly to the devil. Maybe it was a poor deal, but brotherhood, and all the rest, was worth the price. That’s what Natalie, for all her good faith, didn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t murder someone at the concert on a technicality of the definition, but he did murder someone in that lab. Not an evil son of a bitch like Alastair or that drug lord using a niece as a body-shield. They had it coming, at least the sins were equally damning. This was just a woman. Someone doing a job. Natalie would say it was an accident, but that accident was a direct action of his resistance. If he hadn’t been so damned stubborn, that woman would be alive. Beyond that, like that wasn’t enough, he had a chance to help Ascendancy build the world for the better. At least make one small patch of it tolerable. Trading one dictator for another sounded bad, but choosing the lesser of two evils was sometimes just being realistic. Besides, Brandon was hardly evil. In fact, he seemed the opposite of it.
He started to tune her out. She’d never understand. Nor did he want to make her.
Until she spoke of shadows.
His gazed roamed hers, seeking comprehension like the drowning sought air. And he was blown away by it. What struck him more than the accolades that followed had nothing to do with him. It was a comment, so small as to be nearly lost. We all have shadows.
He’d never stopped to consider what demons followed her. They swarmed him like a plague of black beasts, hovering and ready to devour. What shadows nipped at her heels? Did Alistair command that monstrous legion? Or was he only a single face in the black haze?
He rubbed the back of his neck, peering up cautiously over the curl of his brows.
“How’d you know about any of that?”
Then he shook his head. He didn’t want to know. She demonstrated the wounds to her palms, and his heart ached for her. Not because they were so intolerable, but because he didn’t know the significance of the previous gesture at the time.
The quiet that settled between them was far more peaceful than previously. He had no words. None but hopeful thoughts for that kitten, though he knew it was foolish. The thing was unlikely to survive without a caretaker. Though if ever a little buggar had a chance, it was that ferocious little beast.
The boy was harder to forgive. But what was he going to do? Let a kid suffer when he could tolerate all the more? It sucked. He didn’t want to relive it, but there were worse horrors. Besides, Vanders eventually healed him and the morphine would have gone to waste. “You should really ask Jensen for Healing. I can speak from experience. It’s kind of nice.”
He tried to grin, but it was weak. He recalled Natalie’s refusal the night they found her. The stubbornness was unlikely to have softened with the passage of time. She was stronger than most soldiers, hell, all of them. More stubborn, too.
Her final comment stole a short laugh, rattling loose some of the tension in his chest. “What a real sap.”
An impish grin touched his lips.
He hovered on the moment, drinking in the closeness while she lingered near. The pressure of her fingers against his chest, perched on the edge of action. He’d have to be dead to not be tempted, and he was very much alive. For the moment anyway.
Images flooded his mind. His last date was before he took the job with the Legion, and it had been a long year since then. Before that, he dated when he was home until breaking it off. She was cute, and Jay liked her, liked her enough to be terrified by the possibility of a future together. But already Natalie knew more about him than all the other girls put together. Yet she didn’t run away as fast as she could. Maybe it would be best if she did, but the ice in her gaze had melted, even if the words cutting her tongue retained the razor’s edge. The challenge of meeting that edge with like kind, like sparring swords, was enough of a thrill to make him keep trying. Even when she won. Especially when she won.
Problem was, if something started now between them, he wouldn’t be able to let it go again. His heart was pounding. Surely she felt it, hand laid against his chest.
He knew his limits. And this was it. Except…
To hell with limits.
He kissed her. Despite his best judgement not to. God help him. But he didn’t care. All the momentum of the past year came to a halt in those few seconds. His heart came to a stop with it.
It wasn’t hard to imagine Danjou and Brandon sitting in the same room. This was the same man that sacrificed lives at the refinery for a delayed victory elsewhere. Brandon, well, no surprises there. Jay wasn’t that naïve. Yet, Danjou was also the one that marched into Jeddah to evacuate the city before terrorists overran the field. He was brilliant. They both were. Though he couldn’t explain it, he trusted Brandon. The relief that washed over him when the Ascendancy found him was illogical, but yet real. Jay wasn’t bartered, he was made an offer.
I said yes. He sold his soul willingly to the devil. Maybe it was a poor deal, but brotherhood, and all the rest, was worth the price. That’s what Natalie, for all her good faith, didn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t murder someone at the concert on a technicality of the definition, but he did murder someone in that lab. Not an evil son of a bitch like Alastair or that drug lord using a niece as a body-shield. They had it coming, at least the sins were equally damning. This was just a woman. Someone doing a job. Natalie would say it was an accident, but that accident was a direct action of his resistance. If he hadn’t been so damned stubborn, that woman would be alive. Beyond that, like that wasn’t enough, he had a chance to help Ascendancy build the world for the better. At least make one small patch of it tolerable. Trading one dictator for another sounded bad, but choosing the lesser of two evils was sometimes just being realistic. Besides, Brandon was hardly evil. In fact, he seemed the opposite of it.
He started to tune her out. She’d never understand. Nor did he want to make her.
Until she spoke of shadows.
His gazed roamed hers, seeking comprehension like the drowning sought air. And he was blown away by it. What struck him more than the accolades that followed had nothing to do with him. It was a comment, so small as to be nearly lost. We all have shadows.
He’d never stopped to consider what demons followed her. They swarmed him like a plague of black beasts, hovering and ready to devour. What shadows nipped at her heels? Did Alistair command that monstrous legion? Or was he only a single face in the black haze?
He rubbed the back of his neck, peering up cautiously over the curl of his brows.
“How’d you know about any of that?”
Then he shook his head. He didn’t want to know. She demonstrated the wounds to her palms, and his heart ached for her. Not because they were so intolerable, but because he didn’t know the significance of the previous gesture at the time.
The quiet that settled between them was far more peaceful than previously. He had no words. None but hopeful thoughts for that kitten, though he knew it was foolish. The thing was unlikely to survive without a caretaker. Though if ever a little buggar had a chance, it was that ferocious little beast.
The boy was harder to forgive. But what was he going to do? Let a kid suffer when he could tolerate all the more? It sucked. He didn’t want to relive it, but there were worse horrors. Besides, Vanders eventually healed him and the morphine would have gone to waste. “You should really ask Jensen for Healing. I can speak from experience. It’s kind of nice.”
He tried to grin, but it was weak. He recalled Natalie’s refusal the night they found her. The stubbornness was unlikely to have softened with the passage of time. She was stronger than most soldiers, hell, all of them. More stubborn, too.
Her final comment stole a short laugh, rattling loose some of the tension in his chest. “What a real sap.”
An impish grin touched his lips.
He hovered on the moment, drinking in the closeness while she lingered near. The pressure of her fingers against his chest, perched on the edge of action. He’d have to be dead to not be tempted, and he was very much alive. For the moment anyway.
Images flooded his mind. His last date was before he took the job with the Legion, and it had been a long year since then. Before that, he dated when he was home until breaking it off. She was cute, and Jay liked her, liked her enough to be terrified by the possibility of a future together. But already Natalie knew more about him than all the other girls put together. Yet she didn’t run away as fast as she could. Maybe it would be best if she did, but the ice in her gaze had melted, even if the words cutting her tongue retained the razor’s edge. The challenge of meeting that edge with like kind, like sparring swords, was enough of a thrill to make him keep trying. Even when she won. Especially when she won.
Problem was, if something started now between them, he wouldn’t be able to let it go again. His heart was pounding. Surely she felt it, hand laid against his chest.
He knew his limits. And this was it. Except…
To hell with limits.
He kissed her. Despite his best judgement not to. God help him. But he didn’t care. All the momentum of the past year came to a halt in those few seconds. His heart came to a stop with it.
Only darkness shows you the light.