I bite my lip as I look up at him, trying to quell my regret. There’s no denying it. “I did.”
Our mission was to deliver Vanguard’s son, Elijah, to his new home. We were to escort the boy on the train trip from New York to Boston, where Vanguard had arranged for powerful supernaturals to keep Elijah safe.
Vanguard promised me that successfully completing the mission would get me in to the Ultima Nostra’s inner circle, which I knew would get me closer to the Ultima Nostra. Of course, at the time, I thought the Ultima Nostra was my uncle, a murderer and a usurper.
Along the way, it became apparent that the mission wasn’t for the Ultima Nostra, after all. It was for Vanguard. The Ultima Nostra was using Elijah as leverage to control Vanguard. Bytaking his son out of the equation, Vanguard would gain his freedom. The keeper and I were intended be his scapegoats. He could claim that we kidnapped his son and by doing so, he could pretend to remain the Ultima Nostra’s ally.
He didn’t count on Lucian coming to check on him. It seems my father was clever enough to know that something might be afoot.
Then came Halle, Vanguard’s vengeful sister, who blasted her way onto the train and threw everything into chaos. She tried to kill Elijah—for reasons that are still unknown to me—and pretty much everyone else who wasn’t on her side. Including me and the keeper.
In the battle that followed, I had two goals: first, to get Elijah to safety because there’s no freaking way I’ll ever let a kid be used as leverage; and second, to get myself closer to the Ultima Nostra.
When the keeper was conjuring a translocation spell to transport Elijah to safety, I’d feigned going with them, only to push myself away from the keeper’s magic at the last moment.
He was gone and I was left to Lucian’s mercies. Lucian demanded to know where Elijah had been taken, and I told him I’d only speak with the Ultima Nostra. He had no choice but to take me to our father, who, after all that, never did ask me where Elijah ended up.
I guess he was too focused on killing me to care at that point.
Now, the keeper’s ire only grows, the rebuke in his voice a harsh reminder that I’d taken a massive risk. “You thought you would get what you wanted, but it wasn’t what you needed.”
Unfortunately, that’s true.
What I wanted was vengeance and closure.
What Ineededwas justice for my family… But it’s a family that never existed in the way I thought it did.
I know this, and yet I grip his arms, putting a little distance between myself and his snuggly body to challenge him. “What is it thatyouthink I need?”
His voice lowers, becoming just a little softer, although not much. “Your heart tells me what you need, Veda, and it wasn’t to be hurt by someone you should have been able to trust.”
My eyes widen. The truth of his words impales me so deeply that my only response is to lash out. “Don’t tell me what Ididn’tneed!”
“Okay, then.” He is calm now in the face of my anger, all reproach vanishing from his voice. “You need your family.”
There’s a new darkness in his eyes as he speaks. Shadows and anger and a hint of empathy—only the briefest hint, but the kind that could only be felt by someone who understands my pain.
My shoulders hunch and it takes me closer to his chest, where I want to sink my head. “My only living family hates me.”
He cups the back of my head, sliding his fingers through my hair, easing the tension in my neck. “As much as it pains me to say this, because that boy grates every fucking nerve in my body… Not all of them hate you.”
He twists a little so I have a clear line of sight to Lucian.
My brother’s shoulders are hunched where he sits, his hands folded in his lap. His wings are drooping on either side of the chair, even the uninjured one hanging low. He still wears a burn mark across his cheek. Blood has continued to trickle from a cut above his eye. Not to mention the rope burn around his neck or all the bruises across his arms and face that are turning a nasty purple color.
Since I woke up in my father’s lair, Lucian’s demeanor has transitioned and now it’s nothing like the arrogant façade he presented when we first met him on the train with Elijah. In fact, Elijah was terrified when Lucian first approached us. The little boy gripped my hand so hard, his knuckles turned white.
My brother may have stepped between me and our father, but he is no saint.
I have no idea the things he might have done at our father’s bidding.
The keeper’s hands slide away from my neck and back, and I miss the firmness of his touch, but it’s also time to make decisions.
“What you do in regard to your brother is entirely up to you,” the keeper says, most certainly loud enough for Lucian to hear. “Kill him. Don’t kill him. Ask me to heal him. Don’t ask me to heal him. Interrogate him. Don’t interrogate him.” The keeper gives me a resigned look, although it’s clear he would prefer the interrogation-followed-by-death approach. “Whatever you decide, I’ll respect your decision.”
I chew the inside of my lip as I rise to my feet. I made it clear to Diavolo that I want Lucian alive because he has answers. But… just because I need my brother alive right now doesn’t mean I always will.
When we were in our father’s lair, Lucian and I were both fighting for our lives. We had a common enemy. Joining forces made sense.
