It’s the excuse we’re clinging to, and Cambria’s kind enough not to call us out on it. But after what she went through because of Victor’s vendetta against Lucien, and how many other people he’s managed to piss off over the years, we want her as far away from all of that as possible. She’s a surefire way to ensure Lucien will give people anything they want, and as clearly demonstrated, to make him suffer.
She deserves so much better than to be used as a pawn in the business games he created for himself. He and Atlas attempted to shield me from most of it, but I know both of them far too well not to have noticed that it didn’t stop with Atlas’ father. Atlas had too much money for freelance construction jobs after all, and too many days of disappearing without a word. And when he came back, he was always distant; colder, with a hard edge that took a few weeks to dull.
“Be nice to Loki,” I scold, but there isn’t actually any heat behind the words, just a teasing way to pass the time. “All the cool kids were jumping off of the bridge and she didn’t want to be left behind.”
She hooks her legs around the branch before swinging upside down, fingers splaying over the branch below her. Her shirt rides up to bare her stomach, and my lips press into a thin line when it’s clear that she’s using her glamour to hide all of the numerous marks. I wouldn’t blame her if it was that she was self-conscious over them, but she’s already confessed that her back is the only sensitive topic as far as her scars are concerned, the others not fazing her. Which simply means that she’s expending energy she doesn’t need to formycomfort, because she doesn’t want to trigger those memories and upset me.
Testing the strength of the branch first, she removes her legs from the branch above, doing a handstand twenty feet above me in the tree like it’s no big deal. She doesn’t move though, simply holding the position for a few seconds before clamping her thighs around the original branch and hanging from it.
“You should really have a talk with your children about peer pressure.” Her hair snags on a twig and she grimaces, yanking it free.
“Excuse me, but don’t you meanourchildren?”
The snort she gives me is the most unladylike sound I’ve heard come out of her face yet and I can’t stop the grin betraying the affronted tone I was going for. “You really think I’m in any way, shape, or form, a good example? They might be jumping off the bridge, but I’m the one that started the trend. Or pushed them; depends on the day.”
I gasp with feigned shock. “Those two can’t come back with a fish tank soon enough.” I stroke the side of the bucket. “It’s okay, murder babies, she didn’t mean it.”
“Totally meant it.”
“She’d never push you off a bridge.”
“Maybe even a building.” She hops to the ground beside me, wavering on her feet for a second as the blood rushes back to her head.
“Hopefully they’ll be back soon. You’re going stir crazy.”
She simply shrugs. “Yep. I need to burn off the energy somehow and don’t want to risk feeding the changelings and have them change back into me until we’re out of options. Food and a good night’s sleep did wonders to make me finally feel back to relatively normal.”
Hours pass by with us killing time in the woods before they finally return, Atlas coming to get us and leading us through the trees to the car Lucien rented. We drive long enough that I nod off for most of the trip, bucket resting between my thighs in an awkward position.
When the car slows to a crawl I jerk awake, rubbing at my eyes. My sleep schedule has been thoroughly fucked by being on the run, taking rest when and where we could, and trapped in a state of perpetual night for a long stretch. Stopping outside of a cabin nestled far back from the road, I pass Cambria the bucket so I can climb out, my legs asleep and not wanting to risk dropping them. Despite her blasé approach to them earlier, she still smiles down at the bucket, stroking a finger over the scaly skin that only a parent could love. Or maybe more appropriately, a supernatural custodian.
“You have a penchant for adopting strays, you know that right?”
“Not my fault you all keep clambering for my attention. Needy, the whole lot of you,” she retorts with a wink.
Luce’s voice is amused as he starts grabbing things from the trunk. “Come on, let’s get situated and we’ll update you two on what you missed.” He tosses me the key before looping as many bags over his arms as possible, Atlas grabbing a glass tank from the trunk.
“Here.” I snag a few of the bags from Luce to ease the burden. It’s not like we’re moving in long term, but a day or two of normalcy is still a heavy load.
The cabin is a decent size; a massive main room with a door to the left leading to an enclosed porch, and the two on the right for the bedrooms. As I set the bags of bedding on one of the mattresses, I peer down the narrow hallway that connects the two bedrooms, a double sink on the left and the bathroom through another door on the right.
When I return to the main room, Cambria and Atlas are crouched over the fish tank on the floor, carefully dumping the changelings inside. Not a bad plan, because this’ll eliminate the risk of them getting accidentally knocked off of a table and the glass shattering.
“At least they’re finally learning to swim.”
Atlas rolls his eyes. “Yeah, make the demons overcome their one weakness. Brilliant plan.”
“A piranha army would have its uses. It’s a good thing to play to our advantage while we’re trying to round up the other changelings, but after they realize we’re only trying to help them, it seems like a dick move to refuse to teach them to swim just to have a failsafe way of controlling them.” Before he finishes opening his mouth to object, I cut him off. “Yeah, it’s thesmartmove to have an ace up our sleeve if they ever turn on us, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. Intentionally keeping someone weak so they can be controlled makes us absolutely no different than the people that raised Cambria.”
He bites the inside of his cheek, chagrined, and nods once. “Fair point. But for five minutes, can we just...not?” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Let’s just take turns showering and get something to eat first. I’ve been at my mental capacity for a while now, and with all of the shit still waiting for us to deal with, I just need a break for a little while.”
A breath whooshes from my lungs. “So this place should be safe for at least a night?”
“We’ll fill you guys in as we eat,” Lucien interjects. “Atlas, you want to start dinner? Cambria, why don’t you take first dibs on the shower, since I’m not sure how long the hot water will last.”
She gives him a mocking salute before snagging a towel from one of the grocery bags and heading towards the bathroom, not about to argue with the temptation of a hot shower calling her name. While I wait for my turn, I dig through some of the bags, seeing what can be pulled out and put away, and what’s better off just staying there unless we need it so that we don’t have to waste time packing it back up.
Lucien grabs the small container of fish food and hesitantly shakes it above the open tank, waiting to see what will happen. But just as they ate the food from the greenhouse without changing into walking eggplants, they devour the fish food flakes rapidly while staying in their fish forms. He adds another half of a container before calling it enough, all of us just figuring this out as we go. Aversion to water, don’t feed them after midnight...
