Ezekial still sleeps next door to make sure I can rest, but he’s barely there, only in fragments. Sai’s markings fade more each day. And Kane—Kane isn’t sleeping at all.
Not only is Julien suffering. They all are. Because of me.
The three of them give me their time, their energy, but they have other responsibilities. Ezekial is the only Council member left in this district, shouldering every responsibility alone. Kane pushes the enforcers in their hunt for Prospero, and Sai continues his interrogations, even while bearing the brunt of Julien’s care.
And still, they try to shield me, keep me at a distance. I had to drag those truths out of Sai, piece by piece, just to learn what else they were doing behind the scenes. Otherwise all I get are soft words, small smiles, and vague reassurances.
We agreed to be platonic bonds. To be equal. But this is not equal.
Well, they tried. But I’ve had enough.
I slip the small vial in and out of my jean’s pocket, fingers curling around the glass as I stare up at the coffee board. Sai still brings me here every morning, despite my protests that he should be resting, recovering.
He only ever smirks, shaking his head. But even his smirk is fading.
Goddesses, it aches to see him like this. Any of them.
“And I need you to put a shit tonne of syrup in them, with whipped cream, and something like cinnamon on top, okay? Thank you,” I rush out to the barista, the same guy from our first visit.
He nods, wide eyes darting to Sai who’s on the phone with one of the brothers.
“No problem, I’ll bring them over when—”
“No, I need them right here.” I tap the counter. “And I need you to make them fast, the quickest you’ve ever made any drink before. Please.”
I push my desperation into the air, feeding it into his already jittery pulse. He nods and immediately gets to work.
I glance over my shoulder, thankful that Sai still has his back to me, fingers raking through his hair that now touches his shoulders.
I only have a small slot to do this, the timing has to be perfect, there’s no margin for error.
I slip the vial back into my pocket and feel for the chain around my neck, the one I’ve never taken off. I sigh, squeezing it once, then force my shoulders to loosen, shaking off my nerves just as the first coffee hits the counter.
One down. Three to go.
Sai just needs to remain over there, out of the way, for a few more minutes while I—
“What concoction have you gone for today, Red?” His murmur makes me flinch. I look up, caught, his brow rising at my unusual reaction. “Something wrong?”
His genuine concern eases some of the frantic energy vibrating under my skin, but not much.
Deny. Deny. Deny.
“Everything’s fine,” I say, but it really isn’t. I study his face, the dark hollows under eyes that used to burn so bright.
Another coffee lands on the counter. Two to go.
My focus reignites. “How was Julien last night?”
If Sai’s appearance isn’t enough to confirm what I need to do, his deep exhale solidifies it. “Not great, baby.”
He’s started calling me that again, and I just don’t have the heart to stop him. Not when he looks like this. He probably knows it, probably takes advantage, but I’ll let it slide. For now.
“Y’know, if you took me with you, I really think I could help…” I try, for what feels like the hundredth time. “You don’t even need to tell the others, we could just…”
He’s already shaking his head, a dark curl dropping across his brow. “You’re not going down there, Red. You can’t see him in this state. He can’t see you while he’s like that.”
He shuts his eyes, and heavy dread fills the air. He’s seeing it, seeing him there, his friend—suffering.
