He only glances at me and says, “Idiot.”
“I’m sorry— Look—”
“You will apologize.”
“I did apologize,” I say, matching his stride. “I am apologizing. I’ve apologized to everyone—”
“You will apologize to Juliette. You will do it today. You will sit with her for as long as she likes, and you willnottell her stories about being exploded out of a tree or having your organs harvested. You will never do this to her again.” He stops suddenly, turns to face me. “Do you understand me? You will never, ever do something this stupid again or I swear to you,James, you will live to regret it.”
I turn my eyes to my boots, the polished concrete floors underfoot. In that moment, I feel more guilt than fear. I know what his anger is really about. I know how much he loves me even if he’s only admitted it once, by omission, when Juliette was trying to mediate an argument between us and said,All right, that’s enough—you two love each other, and Warner didn’t correct her.
The man practically raised me.
I love Adam to death, but when we overthrew The Reestablishment and he decided he wanted to live a quiet, normal life—I went directly to Warner. At the time he was the brother I barely knew, the one I’d just met.
I asked him to take me in.
At eleven years old I didn’t even understand the breadth of what I was asking; I just knew I didn’t want a quiet, normal life. I’d only just discovered I had healing powers; I’d only just discovered my family heritage; and there was more I wanted to learn, more I wanted to become. I knew I couldn’t achieve my goals with Adam, because even then I understood the difference between my brothers.
Adam wanted peace. Warner wanted justice.
But I’d realized at a young age that you can’t have peace without securing justice; and when you’re living under tyranny you can’t secure justice without violence. I didn’t want to live a passive life. Besides, I wasn’t blind. I saw the way the world looked at Warner: with the kind of awe and fear and respect I’d always dreamed of. He’d worked hard for that kind of power,living a terrifying and propulsive life that made me think he was invincible.
I wanted tobehim.
Warner and Juliette took me into their home without hesitation. They were newlyweds deep in the chaos of a post-revolution era, trying to reshape a disfigured world, but they never made me feel like a burden. Growing up, Adam was too busy fighting for our lives to be around for my childhood; I spent most of my time alone, fending for myself, living a semi-orphaned existence. By contrast, Warner rarely let me out of his sight. He tucked me under his wing, teaching me and training me. Rebuilding me. And by virtue of living in his home I’ve seen glimpses of him most people wouldn’t believe possible. Softer versions of him; laughing versions of him. Loving versions of him.
Right now, all of that is gone. Right now, he’s an invulnerable shield. A wall of ice.
He’s upset.
“So, uh, how’s she doing?” I ask the floor. “Are the doctors still worried?”
I hear him sigh. He shifts, his boots turning away from me. “She’s better,” he says quietly. “Now that you’re home.”
“I’ll go to her now,” I say, looking up. “I’ll head to the house right now—”
“You’ll go,” he says darkly, “when I’m done with you.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Try again. “What does that mean?”
He starts walking. “It means we still have a lot to do before the day is over.”
“Wait—what’s happening?” I chase after him, my footsteps echoing down the polished concrete corridor. “Where are we going?”
“Take a wild guess,” he says dryly.
“Why won’t you just answer my question?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?” he counters.
“Forclarity,” I say. “Why else would I ask questions?”
“Your entitlement is exhausting.”
“Entitled? You think I’m entitled for wanting to know what we’re doing before we’re doing it?”
“Yes.”
