07-03-2020, 08:56 AM
Sarcasm dripped from above like honeyed poison. I am more philanthropic than one might guess by looking at me, Scion had said before. The Russian would spare no love for what he had been sent to collect, and she didn’t imagine herself to be anything more than a passing irritant, or at most a bargaining chip to be levelled against her grandfather. She didn’t want to know if her family was involved in any of this. She wouldn’t ask. Scion Marveet clawed even higher from his humble origins now. His cragged expression was dispassionate for the field of dirty work he tilled, but like the self-made man he was, sometimes power required those kinds of sacrifices. Her tired mind fit the pieces together, but she looked away from the picture. “You should have come sooner,” she said. She’d been ignorant of the gameboard, even spying him at the gatehouse. Yet he’d had Amengual’s men in his pocket. He’d acted too slow.
Then Jensen was there. The surprise didn’t register amidst the numbness, and her face reared back from his hand and his kindness both, though there was nowhere to go. She didn’t want her body swept clean of its pain; she didn’t want to acknowledge what would be left in that hollow place, or how she might try to fill it without the anchor of her injuries, yet the powerful wave of his gift parted through her denial. Her jaw tightened into a grimace for that tainted peace. Her eyes burned hot. She didn’t look away from the compassion of his expression, though it shredded up what remained of her beleaguered soul. Didn’t he realise how little it left her with? He didn’t offer her solace, he knocked free a crutch.
It left her floundering.
Sick swirls of blood and Jay’s mum’s voice permeated the dingy halls of her mind. Jay’s tears sliced her through. When he sprung like a wild predator to the hunt, she did not follow, though she felt a pull alongside him like even then she might be compelled to the dark plunge of his path. But it wasn’t sheltering Jay’s soul needed now, and she did not want to see what he did.
The only thing she checked was Placaso’s corpse, mangled and still. Memories of hospital beeps and the recoil of Aaron’s expression strung in the back of her mind like bloody pearls, the catalyst that sent her running to Africa. Waves of nausea threatened for the evidence of her own capabilities. She’d killed a man on purpose. Yet she did not look away. The arm was outstretched, a familiar tattoo sewn amongst the others like a sick canvas. She’d seen the warped patches of flesh on Jay amidst the webbed black scars, but had never contemplated the depravity of something like this.
She toed the cold flesh, to make sure he was dead. And felt no regret.
When next her gaze swept, it pushed over everything she couldn’t bear to see. It didn’t matter why Scion was here anymore. None of it did. Petty political struggles meant nothing to her if she was not navigating them to protect those she loved, and she did not care for the war waged over control of a new Dominance. She knew enough. Scion clearly cruised those stormy seas like an apex predator, and she had no doubt that he would see Jay back into Custody control where she had refused. But first he would use the weapon to clear his path to other prizes. By the time dawn broke, there would be one less contender for the crown.
“You didn’t leave him anything to come back for.” Her gaze was ghostly pale. The words were cold. Because she knew that was not the whole truth; that the painful losses her accusation levelled at Scion’s feet were the things that made Jay the soul she tucked closest to her own; the things that made him human; the things that tugged him back from the cliff edge. Because duty would bring Jay back; she knew that. Duty, and nothing else.
There was a tide banked behind her eyes that she didn’t care for Scion to see, and she turned away after that. Neither did she seek Jensen. The sweetness of the man’s nature was likely to shatter her own into the sorts of tiny pieces that could not be remade.
Natalie did not pause to acknowledge the cooling bodies in the adjacent room as she left. Amengual probably had a packed cellar, but though the siren call curled promising tendrils through her raw thoughts, she did not afford herself the weakness of oblivion. Or the sanctuary. The pool doors were still flung open and she followed the path back outside, into the shadows and stifling air. She finally removed the jacket, and dumped it on the decking. The fabric pulled strangely where it had cloyed to the dampness of the now healed wound, but did not hurt. Natalie pulled her hair free like it might shield the face she pressed for a moment into the darkness of her hands. Her jaw flexed and her vision blurred, though she did not let the tears fall. All she could smell was Jay’s blood as she sat at the pool’s edge to wait. Its soft light washed her pale skin. Over the hilly landscape beyond, puncturing the heavy shadows of the jungle below, the first fingers of dawn spread bloody on the horizon.
Then Jensen was there. The surprise didn’t register amidst the numbness, and her face reared back from his hand and his kindness both, though there was nowhere to go. She didn’t want her body swept clean of its pain; she didn’t want to acknowledge what would be left in that hollow place, or how she might try to fill it without the anchor of her injuries, yet the powerful wave of his gift parted through her denial. Her jaw tightened into a grimace for that tainted peace. Her eyes burned hot. She didn’t look away from the compassion of his expression, though it shredded up what remained of her beleaguered soul. Didn’t he realise how little it left her with? He didn’t offer her solace, he knocked free a crutch.
It left her floundering.
Sick swirls of blood and Jay’s mum’s voice permeated the dingy halls of her mind. Jay’s tears sliced her through. When he sprung like a wild predator to the hunt, she did not follow, though she felt a pull alongside him like even then she might be compelled to the dark plunge of his path. But it wasn’t sheltering Jay’s soul needed now, and she did not want to see what he did.
The only thing she checked was Placaso’s corpse, mangled and still. Memories of hospital beeps and the recoil of Aaron’s expression strung in the back of her mind like bloody pearls, the catalyst that sent her running to Africa. Waves of nausea threatened for the evidence of her own capabilities. She’d killed a man on purpose. Yet she did not look away. The arm was outstretched, a familiar tattoo sewn amongst the others like a sick canvas. She’d seen the warped patches of flesh on Jay amidst the webbed black scars, but had never contemplated the depravity of something like this.
She toed the cold flesh, to make sure he was dead. And felt no regret.
When next her gaze swept, it pushed over everything she couldn’t bear to see. It didn’t matter why Scion was here anymore. None of it did. Petty political struggles meant nothing to her if she was not navigating them to protect those she loved, and she did not care for the war waged over control of a new Dominance. She knew enough. Scion clearly cruised those stormy seas like an apex predator, and she had no doubt that he would see Jay back into Custody control where she had refused. But first he would use the weapon to clear his path to other prizes. By the time dawn broke, there would be one less contender for the crown.
“You didn’t leave him anything to come back for.” Her gaze was ghostly pale. The words were cold. Because she knew that was not the whole truth; that the painful losses her accusation levelled at Scion’s feet were the things that made Jay the soul she tucked closest to her own; the things that made him human; the things that tugged him back from the cliff edge. Because duty would bring Jay back; she knew that. Duty, and nothing else.
There was a tide banked behind her eyes that she didn’t care for Scion to see, and she turned away after that. Neither did she seek Jensen. The sweetness of the man’s nature was likely to shatter her own into the sorts of tiny pieces that could not be remade.
Natalie did not pause to acknowledge the cooling bodies in the adjacent room as she left. Amengual probably had a packed cellar, but though the siren call curled promising tendrils through her raw thoughts, she did not afford herself the weakness of oblivion. Or the sanctuary. The pool doors were still flung open and she followed the path back outside, into the shadows and stifling air. She finally removed the jacket, and dumped it on the decking. The fabric pulled strangely where it had cloyed to the dampness of the now healed wound, but did not hurt. Natalie pulled her hair free like it might shield the face she pressed for a moment into the darkness of her hands. Her jaw flexed and her vision blurred, though she did not let the tears fall. All she could smell was Jay’s blood as she sat at the pool’s edge to wait. Its soft light washed her pale skin. Over the hilly landscape beyond, puncturing the heavy shadows of the jungle below, the first fingers of dawn spread bloody on the horizon.