But Layden just shrugs me off. “Don’t worry about it. My brothers are the biggest bad around.” A small, almost proud smile. “And I’ve got plenty of tricks up my sleeve too. You’re safe here.”
I frown. That was a nice non-answer. I have a feeling Layden’s a tough nut to crack—the kind of guy who only tells you what he wants you to know, when he wants you to know it. But he is helping me when I ask, so that’s something.
I hold up the birth control compact. “So how does this work? You said it’s magic?”
“Just take them like normal. My friend’s a really talented witch, and she made it look human so it wouldn’t draw attention. The pills will automatically refill after twenty-eight days and stop any supernatural pregnancy from taking hold.” He pauses. “But it won’t work for normal human guys.”
I nod quickly. “That’s not a problem.”
He studies me for a moment, those blue eyes sharper than they usually appear. “So you and Remus...?”
I blush and look down at my hands, picking at my thumbnail.
“Sorry. None of my business.”
Quickly, I pop one of the little pills into my mouth—it dissolves almost instantly, tasting faintly of mint and something else I can’t identify—and slide the compact into my jeans pocket.Layden slings the mysterious bag underneath his computer desk before standing, his chair squeaking.
Before he can leave the room, I ask, “Did you give Remus something so he could stay around longer and keep his brother asleep?”
He pauses mid-step but doesn’t turn around. His shoulders tense slightly.
“Maybe something in that little flask he’s always drinking from?”
Still, he doesn’t speak. The only sound is the hum of his computer fans and the distant murmur of voices from downstairs.
“I won’t say anything,” I promise softly. “I just want to know what I’m getting into here.”
He turns around at that, something shifting in his expression—wariness giving way to something almost like respect. “I did give him a little help.” His voice is careful. Measured. “But you should know—you really have no clue what you’re getting into. With either of them.”
He’s talking about Remus and Romulus.
“What do you mean?” My stomach clenches, a cold feeling spreading through my chest. “Are they... bad?”
I feel silly at the simplification, but I wait anxiously to hear his answer anyway.
Layden sighs deeply, and for a moment he looks so much older than he probably is—centuries older, which I guess he is. The blue light from his monitors casts strange shadows across his face. “Aren’t we all? Bad and good and everything in between? I mean, we like to think in black-and-white terms. It makes it easier.” He shakes his head. “But the things our father forced us to do for so long...”
He breaks off, looking toward the wall where a faded poster of some band hangs crookedly, like he’s seeing something far beyond it.
“Or maybe we weren’t forced. Maybe itiswho we are. Maybe the hunger inside me was always so large I was never going to be satisfied until I inflicted it on every living creature around me.” His voice drops to almost a whisper. “Maybe Romulus and Remus will always be at war with one another, locked in the same body and tearing each other apart for eternity.”
I suck in a breath, his words hitting me like a fist to the sternum. My chest actually hurts—a physical ache blooming beneath my ribs.
“But then again—” His expression softens slightly, a bit of light returning to his eyes. “—my brother Death put a child in the belly of the woman he loves. About to give birth tolife. And my brother Pestilence has the power to heal.” A small, wondering smile. “Hannah believes we’ve always had the opposite capacities inside us. That our father just fed the destructive side and starved the other. So maybe Remus and Romulus are capable of great peace.”
“And you,” I say, stepping forward and putting a hand on his forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin through the hoodie sleeve, “are capable of feeding the many, not just starving them.”
He frowns at that, and I sense a storm of complex feelings churning inside him—hope and doubt and old, old pain. “I don’t know. I think it might be too late to expect much of anything from me.”
“Romulus thinks the same thing about Remus,” I point out. “But I see so much good in him. So much potential.”
Layden’s eyes snap up from the floor and meet mine. He looks wary, and I can see confusion warring with hope warring with fear inside him. “I hope so,” he finally says quietly. “For your sake.”
The weight of his words settles over me as we head back downstairs, our footsteps echoing on the stone.
I just hope I’m right about Remus.
About all of them.
