It takes an hour of almost unbearable silence before North arrives at the interview room.
There’s nothing obvious about his appearance that says he’s furious but I’ve already learned his subtle tells. His hands aren’t exactly fisted, but he’s a slight flex away from being ready to knock someone’s teeth out, and there’s the smallest black dot on his thumb, the teeniest little bit of his gift slipping. It could be mistaken for a freckle but I’ve spent too long watching this man during uncomfortable Bond dinners not to see it all for what it is.
He’s just barely keeping his shit together.
The moment Gryphon tells him about my gift he’s going to unleash all of that anger out on me, I’m already cringing at the very thought of it.
Kieran, who had stood with Gryphon and talked about shit I didn’t understand at all the whole time we’d waited, gets one look at North and high-tails it into the interview room. I make a mental note to give him shit about it later because he’s not the big scary TacTeam guy he projects if he’s running scared of a moody Draven.
“Trouble?” Gryphon says, and North scoffs under his breath.
“You mean like the council being split in half about what to do before Sharpe went insane and now they’re all either running scared or coming for my throat? You could say so.”
Jesus Christ, there’s not enough money in the world to convince me to join the council. I mean, I’m aware that my lackluster pedigree means it’s not something I ever have to worry about, but the thought of dealing with those people also gives me hives.
I’m not cut out for diplomacy.
North barely acknowledges my existence, which is fine, but when he moves over to come and stand with me, Gryphon blocks him.
“You’re doing the interviews, I’m not leaving Oli.”
North turns to give him a look but Gryphon just shakes his head. “I’m not leaving her right now. You said you trusted me to be sure of what she needed, well, this is what she needs. Kieran will take the lead in there and you can be on point.”
I swallow roughly but don’t look over at either of them. I can feel the heat in North’s gaze as he glares at the back of my head, but he moves into the interrogation room without another word.
I move up to stand with Gryphon at the glass, the silence a little more comfortable between us now. We watch as North takes a seat next to Kieran and unbuttons his suit jacket so he’s more comfortable.
Kieran holds up a hand and Gryphon’s eyes flash brighter again and then return to normal. Both of the women blink rapidly as though the light in the room is blinding, pulling against the chains on their wrists as though they have no idea they’re secured to the chairs.
The quiet and calm in the room evaporates as the women look at each other and then the men in front of them with contempt.
Gryphon leans in towards me to murmur, “They can’t hear us in there as long as we’re not screaming. If you have questions, now’s the time to ask them.”
I glance at him but he’s still just standing there, staring into the room. He’s closer to me now, his usual two steps away that he distances himself now down to a half step.
I know he means about the interrogation or the situation with Sharpe, but my brain is fixated on my own problems. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Because you asked me not to. He’s also just lost someone who was very important to him and isn’t thinking all that rationally. I won’t tell him until you’re ready and he’s… thinking clearly again.”
I nod and he shifts a little closer to me again, now only a hair’s breadth away from touching me. “Why didn’t you lie? Even knowing I could tell, there are ways around it. Gabe told me you’ve already figured that out.”
Freaking Gabe, he’s both amazing and a total nark. “You told me you couldn’t stand liars. I’m doing my best to respect that even when it ruins fucking everything. Why did Sharpe get kicked off of the council? Why now?”
I’m aware we’re just taking turns grilling each other, answer for answer, but this is the first chance I’ve actually had to get real answers out of him without the truth about my gift getting in the way.
Gryphon’s eyes narrow at North as he reads off a list of offenses the women are being held for. It includes treason, murder, and conspiracy to break up Bonded groups, but the women just both look… smug. Satisfied, like they’ve been given kudos for a job well done.
It’s sickening.
“We’ve known about Sharpe’s affiliation with the Resistance for years. Bella, the telekinetic that you dealt with, comes from a known Resistance family. Sharpe spent years cultivating a reputation around here for ‘saving’ her, as though he’d found her and deprogramed her from the bullshit that the Resistance brainwashes their followers with, but it was all a load of shit. We knew for years. He’s been responsible for deaths in the community, but he’s also been the rat that we’ve followed to find the camps.”
I nod slowly and he catches my hand in his, the first little casual touch he’s ever given me. I feel pathetic when my cheeks heat at the contact, it’s hand-holding for Christ’s sake, but his thumb traces over mine gently and I almost melt into a puddle.
He knows what I am and he’s still touching me.
That has to mean something, right?
He tugs on my hand so my body is tucked in close to his, the back of his arm resting over my chest as though he’s prepared to shield me completely if something happens in that room.
I try not to fall completely in love with him for this tiny moment of affection he’s showing me.
“Sharpe made a political move against North last week. It involved you and our Bond not being complete. Sharpe was a piece of shit and he thought he could push North on this issue. North was dealing with him diplomatically, but then William was killed and diplomacy went out the window. Things are going to get worse around here before they get better.”
I nod slowly and try not to look morbid or obsessed with how I watch North in the questioning. The women are both refusing to speak, sharing looks with each other that make them both look unhinged. I wonder how they feel without Sharpe around anymore. I wonder if it’s even hit them yet that they’ve lost their Central, or if they’re in some kind of denial about it.
I also wonder if they were Resistance supporters, or if Sharpe had kept them in the dark about it. Do they deserve to be locked up forever, or executed for their complicity in his crimes?
Gryphon speaks again, his voice lower than before, as though he’s worried the sound will somehow get through the glass. “The Resistance took you. I don’t know how or when, but they had you. That’s how Carlin Meadows knows you and knows what your gift is, it’s the only answer that makes sense.”
I give him the slightest nod of my head, the words still trapped in my throat. Even if he knows, there’s no way I can tell him anything else. Not all of the gory details of why I’m a fucking monster.
“How long?”
I swallow. “I don’t want to—”
He cuts me off, “Just tell me that. Tell me how long and I’ll stop asking about it… for now.”
Well, I can’t let this conversation go on or he’s going to have everything out of me, every last detail of my life, so I whisper, “Two years.”
His jaw tightens and releases over and over again as he gnashes his teeth. “Why can’t I find you then? We’ve been over every piece of intelligence we’ve been able to pick up and there’s a lot there, Oli. Why aren’t you in it?”
I shake my head, partly because I don’t know for sure, but also because my best guess gives too much away. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to know anything else about this fucked-up situation. I don’t want him prying into my head. I don’t want to think about how badly I need to get away from them all.
I’m so tired of fighting and running.
He curses under his breath again and squeezes my hand. “Okay. No more questions for now, but I’m going to have more of them, Oli. I’m going to figure it all out and fix our broken Bond group. There’s no way I’m letting this go on.”
We focus back on the interview room, Gryphon’s hand steady in mine, and I try not to fixate on his words. I need to give him answers. I can’t say a word. Can I? Could I trust him?
Maybe.
But I can’t trust him to let me go if the Resistance, or that man, figures out where I am, so I can’t tell him a thing. What if he tries to keep me here and it gets him killed?
I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.
An hour later, I’m dead on my feet, the interview still going round in circles. Gryphon suggests I take a break from it and leads me over to the corner of the room. I curl up on the bench there and let my eyes fall shut.
I feel Gryphon throw his long Tac coat over me and I pull it up over my face to get some rest.
I WAKE up curled on the back seat of the Rolls Royce with my head in Gryphon’s lap to the smell of Mexican food. I don’t want to wake up or function again, but my stomach rumbles and there’s no denying I would murder for something to eat right now.
So I push myself up with a yawn, stretching my arms out as much as I can in the small space right as the back door opens again and North slides in with his hands full of boxes of food from the taco truck.
I almost want to tackle him to the ground just to make sure I can eat my body weight from those boxes.
Gryphon takes a couple of the boxes and hands them to me, ignoring North’s icy glare his way, and says, “Gabe said you like fish tacos here, the chef is on stress leave for the rest of the week, so we’ll be ordering a lot of takeout until he’s back.”
I take the boxes happily, trying to contain the squirming joy that’s taken over me. It’s hard, especially when it’s my damned bond having the reaction over them providing for me, going out and getting me my favorite meal for dinner, and eating all together in this cramped backseat that was definitely not made to fit two of my biggest Bonds.
Both in size and attitude.
“Sorry for sleeping. The late nights and early mornings are catching up to me,” I mumble around the food, and Gryphon shrugs back.
He reaches around me to grab my seatbelt and pull it over my chest, buckling me in, right as Rafe starts the car back up and gets us on the road back to the manor.
I’m happy munching on my dinner, demolishing three tacos in the time that it takes my Bonds to eat one each, and when I’ve wiped my hands and mouth, I look longingly at the rest of Gryphon’s nachos.
He rolls his eyes and hands them to me without uttering a word, and I decide that I’m keeping him forever. Keeping my secrets, not loathing me for my gift, and sharing his food with me even when I’ve eaten enough already not to warrant it?
He might be it for me.
“Stop with the happy sounds, you’re pushing it,” he grumbles at me, and I try not to scoff at his surly mood.
I am moaning under my breath with every mouthful and that might just make me an asshole.
North ignores us both, barely eating his own serving before he sets it aside and gets back on his phone to work. I swear he’s addicted to it, addicted to being busy and engrossed in anything that isn’t being content or happy.
Or being with me.
When we get back to the manor it’s dark, but I can make out the work that a landscaper has already done to fix the mess of the morning. The driveway is still a disaster, but the scorched grass has been dug up and replaced already, a sprinkler set up and spritzing water everywhere to get the roots to grow and establish.
It’s as though with enough money, nothing is ever permanent.
I want to make a comment about it but it’ll only start a fight, so I wait until Rafe has the car parked in the garage and is out of the car before I murmur, “Thank you for dinner, North.”
He looks down at me but doesn’t acknowledge my words, just steps out of the car the moment Rafe opens the door for him. I huff and slide out after him, rubbing my hands down over my arms just so I don’t strangle the arrogant asshole.
I try to remind myself that he just lost someone. He doesn’t trust me and he’s grieving, but that only makes my brain latch onto the fact that, honestly, his behavior hasn’t changed all that much towards me.
Well, no, there was a moment that I thought maybe he was softening a little, but I blinked and it was gone. Poof, out of existence, the man who had quietly told me he would’ve protected me from his brother if it came to it just disappeared.
Gryphon takes my elbow gently and pulls me back into his side. “I’ll walk you to your room, there’s still a lot of council staff and TacTeam around. Gabe and Bassinger will already be up there and you can stay there until you’re ready to sleep.”
Shit.
It’s North’s night.
I hadn’t even thought of that the entire time we’d been out, and it’s the first time this week that I’ve thought about asking to get out of the shared sleeping situation. Even Nox has been better, mostly because Gryphon had reassured me over it, but also because Nox had left me completely alone. He hadn’t even gotten into the bed, his creatures had slept around me, but being immersed in Nox’s space was more than enough to settle my bond down and give it the hit of him I needed to get my head together again.
“Is it a good idea for me to sleep in North’s bed tonight if he’s so… on edge?” I murmur, careful not to just blurt out our private Bond business in a manor full of outsiders.
Gryphon doesn’t answer me until we’re in the elevator together, and even then he chooses his words with care. “Now that I have a better view of this entire situation, there is no higher priority to me than keeping your bond calm and sated. I… understand your reluctance a bit more, but you also need to understand that we have to keep you level. Whatever that takes, that’s the only priority I’m seeing, other than keeping us all alive. Do you understand what I’m saying, Oli?”
I do.
I get it more than he does. I get it because I’m the one dealing with the gift and bond warring with my mind and my morals every day to stop me from just… ending everything.
Everything.
I give him a nod, my mouth setting into a firm line as I try not to let him see just how much this is tearing me apart, how much I desperately need them all on such a level that it terrifies me.
He grabs my hand again, threading our fingers together as he murmurs again, “I’m not going to let anything happen, Oli. I know you didn’t choose to tell me, but I’m not going to let you down. We’ll figure it out, together. You, me, the rest of the Bond group, we’ll figure out how to make this work.”
Jesus Christ.
I blink rapidly and nod again, fighting stupid and useless tears, but there’s a guilt inside of me because he doesn’t really know the extent of this gift of mine.
He doesn’t know what I’ve done.
Murderer.
He stops me at my door with a hand on my cheek as he pulls my lips to his for a quick kiss. It’s barely more than a peck, no tongue, but his teeth rasp along my bottom lip.
He pulls away from me, looking down at me with his mesmerizingly clear blue eyes, and I blink up at him like some lovesick idiot. “I’ll come get you in the morning but you can sleep in. I’ll be here at seven, it’ll be a late night with the cleanup still going on.”
I clear my throat and nod, pulling away properly and patting myself down for my keys. As I get the door open, Gabe and Atlas arrive, quiet and somber today, thanks to our day from hell. Gryphon reads them both the riot act of rules and condition changes thanks to the extra bodies in the house. I already know what’s expected of me, so I leave them to it.
I change into a pair of Atlas’ boxer shorts and one of Gabe’s tank tops, set on being comfortable for as much of the night as I can be while I’m here, and then I put a movie on, a comfort movie I’ve seen a million times so that I won’t get upset if the guys talk the whole way through it.
Gryphon pushes the door open again and walks over to the bed to give me one last quick kiss before he leaves, stalking back out with that same stern look on his face, and Gabe raises his eyebrows at me.
He starts to get undressed, stripping down to his boxers to lay around with me, as he says, “What the hell happened today? He’s gone from pissed surveillance to enraged protection detail on you.”
Atlas doesn’t question me as he also gets undressed, folding his clothes up and climbing into my side of the bed with me to tuck me into his chest before Gabe has the chance to claim the spot.
They fight over it a lot, but I don’t mind it.
I swallow and try not to wince at the half truth coming out of me. “We saw someone at the council offices that I knew from the Resistance. It shook me a little, and I think he’s maybe put some stuff together… it’s made him extra protective.”
Gabe nods as though that’s completely understandable and climbs in the other side of the bed, completely unconcerned about the fact that they’re both mostly naked in here with me. All of the dirty fantasies I’d love to have about them are ruined by the fact I’m not supposed to be letting my bond get over excited right now, goddammit! I’ll have to save them for a shower tomorrow or something.
Atlas waits for Gabe to be busy rearranging the pillows to his liking before he smoothes a hand down my hair, pressing his lips to my ear to murmur, “He knows?”
I shrug because I don’t want to talk about it with either of them. I still don’t think Atlas actually knows anything and if he does, I don’t want to exclude Gabe from the conversation like that. I’m not actually the bitch they all once thought I was.
That the Dravens still think of me.
“Can we just not talk about gifts or bonds for the rest of the night? I’m not feeling great and I still have to go sleep in North’s room tonight. He’s in the worst freaking mood too, I’m going to spend the whole night trying not to breathe wrong and piss him off more.”
Atlas scowls but nods, his hands warm as he runs them up and down my spine.
I’m asleep in under a minute.
It’s dark when I wake up again, only a small slice of light coming into the room from the hallway, and I can make out North’s silhouette there and mentally curse myself for falling asleep.
I have to slowly and carefully pry myself out of Atlas’ arms and climb over him to get out of the bed, swiping my phone and keys from my bedside table as I go.
North is still looking pissed and when I bump into the doorframe as I rub my eyes against the harsh hallway light, he huffs at me and takes my elbow in his hand to direct me down the hall to his bedroom.
He doesn’t say a word to me.
I’m more than relieved about it, happy to just be haughtily directed to his perfectly put together, minimalist bed by his firm and unrelenting hand. He lifts the covers and tucks me in, scowling the whole time, and as insulted as I want to be about him coming to collect me and putting me into the bed like the little object that I am to him, I’m too tired to put up a fight.
The stress of the whole freaking week hits me hard.
I register that he goes into the bathroom and leaves the door open while he showers, but then my eyes flutter shut and I’m out like a light again, my face buried in pillows that smell just like him and make my bond purr happily in my chest.
