We were a silent,somewhat hungover group that boarded the private plane. Ilia had dark glasses on and a permanent frown. Whenever someone tried to talk to her, she held her hand up and shook her head.
“No talkie,” she snarled.
Larissa was in fits of laughter. “Told you so,” she said, crowing at her victory.
“I will punch you,” Ilia moaned. “Like, I don’t even care that I love you and you’re one of my best friends, if you say that one more time, I’m going to punch you.”
Larissa shut her mouth, but the broad grin remained. Meanwhile, I was sinking into my chair, remembering why I didn’t drink. The few times in my life I’d even remotely managed to get drunk—it was hard work—I’d woken the next morning wishing I was dead. The hangover never lasted long, but it hurt for that short time.
“We’re not really compatible with alcohol,” Jesse said, handing me some herbal concoction that was supposed to help. “Atlanteans don’t have the same make-up as other supes. Our power especially differs, and the water energy does not like alcohol.”
I groaned. “Something you could have told me yesterday.”
He sobered a little. “Would you have listened?”
I didn’t even need to think about that. I was in a dark place. People in dark places did stupid shit to try to find a sliver of light to cling to. Something to guide them out of the pit of hell. Apparently alcohol was my first attempt. It wouldn’t be my second.
We were the only ones on the plane; Princeps Jones left a few hours before us. “Did he say what was happening?” I asked Larissa as the engines got louder in preparation for takeoff. “Was there a reason he took off early?”
She shook her head. “No, it was a rather short and abrupt message saying he’d meet us there. I haven’t been able to get hold of him since.” She looked worried, but he was probably just flying and couldn’t be reached.
“We’ll be there soon,” Rone said, his version of reassuring her even though he was sitting as far away from her as he could. I’d been pretty out of it, but Larissa told me he’d been like that ever since Asher. Like he was afraid of Larissa … or punishing himself. Whatever he was doing, I was going to talk to him about it soon, because both of them were miserable. It was fucking obvious.
Asher…
Fuck, thinking his name burned. But I found I was actively saying it now. Like … I couldn’t suppress it any longer. Every time it crossed my mind the pain flared, making my hangover seem like a luxury massage.
Focus on Atlantis. Focus on what you have to do.If I repeated it enough, maybe it would help my mind compartmentalize so that I could breathe.
For most of the flight I slept, seat tipped right back, my head buried in my arms. The hangover was long gone, and at some point someone draped a blanket over me, so I was pretty cozy—you know, if you discounted the five or six nightmares that jerked me awake. At least I managed not to scream for most of them, and my friends thankfully pretended I wasn’t slowly losing my mind in the corner.
“Prepare the cabin for landing.”
The pilot’s voice barked through the speakers and the two supes who had been assisting us for this flight jumped to attention and started doing whatever they did to “prepare the cabin.”
I straightened my chair, folding the throw before draping it over the arm. We were on Asher’s plane, the school jet being used by Princeps Jones, and I let my eyes linger on the Locke insignia carved into multiple gleaming surfaces.
“What happens to all of Asher’s stuff now?” I asked, and it must have taken everyone by surprise, because there was a deafening sort of silence in the cabin.
Turning away from where I had been staring at a shelf with the fancy L crest, I looked at my friends. “What?”
No one was talking, and I started to wish Axl was here with his blunt, honest answers.
“Inheritance in the supe world works similarly to that of humans,” Calen finally said, sober. “There’s an order of inheritance, and it starts with your mate, followed by children, and then down the line to whatever family members you have left. You can of course leave a record of what you want, like a human will, which is lodged in a sacred tome that cannot be broken or manipulated. Whatever your wishes are, they will be carried out upon penalty of death.”
Whoa.“So, uh, I guess there’s no contesting a magical will then?”
Multiple heads shook, and I was sensing there was still something they weren’t telling me.
“So who is Asher’s next of kin to take the company? It would have to be one of you guys, right? You’re his family.”
Jesse leaned over, his long arms able to reach me across the aisle to take my hand.
“Mate is first,” he reminded me.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
They were waiting for me to catch up, and I had, but they were wrong.
