He knew his purpose in life and the great sacrifice required.
But, gods, he had never hated the unfairness of it all quite so much as he did now.
They departed the carriage in front of Gideon’s town home. Sera had nodded off somewhere around Fairmont Street and she didn’t know how long after arriving Kieran had allowed her to sit there drooling before her chin slipped from her hand. Was he that set on avoiding her? She felt afflicted, like a single touch would infect him with a deadly virus and his only protection was to double down on the detached asshole persona.
Kieran climbed the stoop ahead of her and knocked. The door was identical to the others in the row of modest homes and Sera noted the lack of chipped paint or cracked brickwork. She had never seen Gideon’s home before, but it was finally registering just how drastically different their lives had become.
Sera sighed as they waited in more awkward silence. Wherever she moved, Kieran slipped that much further away. She focused on the door while they waited.
What the hell was keeping her brother?Hehad invitedthemhere.
Maybe she had allowed the fissure between her and Gideon to carry on too long. They were essentially strangers. She had no idea what to expect when he opened the door—probably a mess, if his habits from childhood hadn’t changed—and with so much distance dividing them it seemed impassible.
For so long, it was her and Gideon against their mother, holding each other up when mother’s words kept beatingthem down. Then Gideon had gone away to school—a special academy, only for guardians—and then he enlisted in the Demon War and then he’d joined the Watchmen. Always moving, always leaving her behind with nothing but a lack of self-worth and a propensity for poor decisions.
He’d reached out numerous times since returning to Unity, but never without a lecture or judgment. At first, she’d been too embarrassed to tell her well-established Captain of the Watchmen brother that she was a failure, but then, his incessant self-righteousness lording over her had been equally unbearable.
Gideon answered the door after several minutes. He stepped out, glancing back and forth at the street, before ushering her and Kieran inside.
They entered a cluttered, but humbly decorated foyer with a deep-toned color scheme and homey touches. Hooks on the wall holding coats and a full uniform on a hanger. Boots in various states of wear and a small end table to hold keys or mail—yes, the mail was overflowing from a bin to the table top and even to the floor, but the fact that he had a little bin for his mail at all was shock enough. Had Gideon matched the walls to the trim? She took in each detail with growing surprise.
Gideon tucked his hands into his pockets, frowning. “What? What’s with the face?”
Sera gestured at the foyer as she stopped just short of the stairs. To the left was an archway that opened to a sitting room, the color scheme continuing and complemented by the couch and chairs. She noted the odd piece of clothing lost in a corner or poking out from beneath furniture, but otherwise the place looked newly cleaned. Had Gideon…cleanedfor them?
“First, I need you to tell me something only Gideon would know,” Sera said.
Her brother frowned. “What?”
“Come on. I need to make sure you’re really my brother and not some look-alike impostor.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“I just… I can’t believe that you live here. Don’t tell me you decorated this?”
Gideon crossed his arms. “I did, actually.”
Sera raised an eyebrow.
Gideon rolled his eyes. “I approved the design, but that still counts.”
“Ah. So this is Rachel’s work?”
“I don’t see why that matters. I had the final say.”
Sera snorted. “Gideon, it’syourhouse. You should have had all the say. Whyever would it be Rachel’s job to pick out your décor?”
He huffed, adjusting his shoulders. “Can we just move on to what matters? I didn’t invite you here to pick apart my home.”
Kieran hovered behind them, studiously keeping out of their bickering. Sera might have tried to ease his discomfort, but, honestly, let him suffer.
Gideon motioned for her to enter the sitting room and as she stepped fully into the space she noticed that it wasn’t empty. A man stood in the adjoining dining room, out of her line of sight when she’d been distracted by the uncharacteristic state of the house.
The man’s curls of brown hair were parted at the side so that a lock hung over his forehead. He was built like her brother, same thick shoulders and muscled arms and legs. There was a wild, adventurous air about him. Or, perhaps that was just the effect of the pistols holstered at his hips.
The man gave her a devil-may-care smile and said, “Well, now that the party’s all arrived, anyone want to tell me why the hell I’m here? And let’s start with the as-promised payment. What amount are we talking?”
“Miles Harrow, I presume?” Sera began.
