Angel, we need this to happen. The daimons will help me get to you. Don’t you want that? For us to be together?
Yes, but—
Then trust me. We want the same things, Angel.
Aiden’s words came back to me and I squirmed in my own skin. Seth? You… you aren’t making me want anything, right? You’re not influencing me?
He didn’t respond immediately, which caused my heart to trip over itself. I could, Angel, if I wanted to. You know that, but I’m not. We just want the same things.
I bit my lip. We did want the same things, except the thing with the daimons… I stopped those thoughts. As if two strong arms were pushing down on my shoulders, I was on my back. And then I was drowning in what Seth was feeling again.
Aiden returned with food, and he brought company with him this time—my uncle Marcus. The man was actually being sort of decent toward me now. Ironic. I ate and drank my water like a good captive.
And I didn’t even yell anything insulting.
I figured I deserved a reward, like time out of the cell or something, but that was asking too much. Instead, Marcus left to go see what the others were up to. As soon as the door closed upstairs, Aiden sat with his back pressed against the bars.
Brave, brave man… or really stupid—it was a total toss-up. I could easily fashion the bed sheet into a noose and slip it around his neck before he’d have a chance to react.
But I sat down, my back almost against his. The flare of blue from the chains appeared weaker. Silence stretched out, oddly comforting. Minutes passed and the taut muscles in my back relaxed. Before I knew it, I was leaning against the bars… and Aiden’s back.
My earlier conversation with my Seth had left a weird taste in my throat and a ball of knots in my stomach. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t indulging in my murderous intentions with the bed sheet and Aiden’s neck? Missed opportunity, I supposed.
Lowering my chin, I sighed. What my Seth wanted, I wanted, but… daimons? I rubbed my hands on my bent knees and sighed again—louder, like a petulant child.
Aiden’s back twisted as he turned his head. “What, Alex?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“There’s something.” He leaned back, tipping his head against the bar. “You have that tone.”
I frowned at the wall. “What tone?”
“The ‘I have something I want to say but shouldn’t’ tone.” A little bit of humor seeped into his voice. “I’m well familiar with it.”
Well… damn. My gaze dropped to my hands. The fingers were okay, I guess. But my nails were chipped and short. Hands of a Sentinel—a Sentinel who killed daimons. I pushed up the sleeve of my sweater. Pale-white bite marks covered my right arm. The crescent-shaped marks were a pain to hide and they were on both arms, as well as my neck. They were so ugly, a vile reminder of being trapped by them.
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wipe the faces of all those slaughtered halfs in the Catskills out of my head…or forget the look on Caleb’s face when he’d seen the blade embedded in his chest—a blade that had been wielded by a daimon.
Caleb would be so… disappointed didn’t even sum it up, if I didn’t say anything.
But my Seth would be pissed. He’d go snooping in my memories, and I wanted him to be happy with me. I wanted—
I didn’t want to work with daimons. That was a slap in the face to all those who’d died at their hands—my mom, Caleb, those innocent servants—and my scars.
My Seth… he’d just have to understand that. He would, because he loved me.
Mind made up, I took a deep breath. “Just so you know, I’m not telling you this because of anything to do with you. Okay?”
He laughed darkly. “I would never think such a crazy thing.”
I made a face. “I’m only telling you this because I don’t think it’s right. It goes against something… inherent in me. I have to say something.”
“What, Alex?”
Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath. “Do you remember how Marcus thought there was more to the daimon attacks, especially the one in the Catskills?”
“Yes.”
“I sort of thought it was Lucian, especially at his Council meeting. It made sense. Creating chaos and whatever makes it easier for people to overthrow and take control.” I ran a finger over the tag on the fleshy part of my elbow. “Anyway, the daimon attacks have apparently been orchestrated by Lucian and… Seth.”
Aiden’s spine went stiff against mine. No response. He was quiet for so long I scooted around. “Aiden?”
“How many?” His voice was gruff.
“All of them, I think,” I said, guilt chewing at my insides. I was betraying my Seth, but I couldn’t stay quiet. “They’ve found a way to control the daimons.”
His head lowered and his large shoulders rolled. “How?”
Climbing onto my knees, I grasped the bars and ignored the weak pulse of blue light. “They… they are using pures as motivation. The ones who are against them—us, I mean us.”
Aiden twisted so fast, I let go of the bars and jerked back. His eyes burned silver. “Do you know where they’re keeping these pures?”
I shook my head.
His lashes dipped. “Do you know why they would do something like this?”
The disgust in his voice was understandable. I rubbed my palms over my thighs. Why were they doing this? To create discord was obvious. With daimons attacking left and right, the Council had been distracted. The gods had developed doubts about the pures’ ability to control the daimon hordes and had sent furies as a result. And now, it would serve as a distraction for me to escape. How they’d work that one out I didn’t know. And if the fading blue light was any indication, it wouldn’t be necessary.
“No. I don’t know.”
His eyes met mine and our gazes locked. “Why did you tell me this? I’m sure Seth won’t appreciate it.”
I looked away. “I told you. It’s not right. Those pures…”
“Are innocent?”
“Yeah, and Caleb… he was killed by a daimon. My mom was turned by one.” My breath shuttled through me and I stood. “I want what Seth wants, but I cannot get behind that. He’ll understand.”
Aiden tipped his head back. “Will he? You know I will forward this information on. It will hinder his plans.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist. “He’ll understand.”
Sadness flowed into his expression and his eyes turned down. “Thank you.”
For some reason, anger bubbled up and I wanted to lash out. “I don’t want your thanks. It’s the last thing I want.”
“You have it.” He stood in one fluid motion. “And you have my thanks for more than you realize.”
Confused, I stared back at him. “I don’t understand.”
Aiden’s smile was tight, tinged with that ever-present sadness whenever he looked at me, as if I was this unfortunate creature who provoked sorrow wherever I went. Behind that sadness though, there was steely determination.
“What?” I said, when he didn’t answer.
“You’ve given me the hope I need.”
My Seth wasn’t mad that I’d blabbed. I hadn’t even tried to hide it from him. As soon as we connected, I told him what I’d done. If anything, he seemed to have expected it. And that I didn’t understand, but either way, he didn’t want to talk about it.
Telling me about his childhood, he was a different Seth—a side of him I’d rarely seen. When he started to talk about his mom, vulnerability seeped through the bond, as if speaking about his mother unnerved him.
What was her name? I asked.
Callista.
Pretty.
She was very beautiful. Tall and blond, regal like a goddess. His words drifted off for a moment. Considering the past tense reference, I assumed she’d died. But she wasn’t kind, Angel. She was cold and unapproachable, and most of all, when she looked upon me, there was always hate in her eyes.
I flinched as my suspicions were confirmed, and I wanted to make him feel better. I’m sure she didn’t hate you. She—
She hated me. His sharp reply was like being doused with ice water. I was a constant reminder of her shame. She’d gotten a taste of the forbidden fruit, and then regretted it. Halfs and pures were forbidden to mingle. Only recently had I discovered this was because the offspring of a male half and female pure made the Apollyon.
When he spoke again, his voice was soft like a down blanket. She was nothing like your mother, Angel. There was no great love affair. She used to tell me the only reason why she’d kept me was because a god had visited her after my birth. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen, or so she said. That god told her that she must protect me at all costs, that I would become a great power one day.
As he talked, I recalled the glimpses of Seth’s past that I’d seen when I’d Awakened. Of Seth as a small child, all golden skin and blond curls, playing by a creek or hunched over a toy in a large room stuffed with uncomfortable looking furniture. He was always alone. Nights when he’d awoken crying from a bad dream and no one would come to comfort him. Days when the only person he saw was a nanny who was just as uncaring as his mother. He’d never met his father. To this day, he didn’t even know his name.
My heart wept for him.
Then at age eight, he was brought before the Council to determine if he would enter the Covenant. His experience was nothing like mine. There was no poking or pinching. He didn’t kick a Minister. They had taken one look at him and seemed to know what he would become.
It was the eyes.
The tawny, amber eyes that held wisdom that belonged to no child—eyes of an Apollyon.
Things got better for him once he was sent to the Covenant in England, and then to the one in Nashville. So odd that we’d been so close to one another for so many years and had never crossed paths.
But something was off. When I’d Awakened, I’d learned all of what the previous Apollyons had discovered during their lifetimes, like being plugged into a computer and booting up. And none of them had been born with the eyes of the Apollyon. All of their eyes had become golden after they’d Awakened.
My Seth had been different.
But right now, that raw hurting in his chest was eating at him. Where were you born? I asked, hoping to take the topic away from his mother. You’ve never told me.
He laughed and I smiled. Happy Seth was a better Seth. You won’t believe this, but you know how Fate loves to mess with people?
Boy, did I ever know that.
I was born on the island of Andros.
A shiver danced down my spine. How… ironic. No large leap of faith to consider that my ancestors had also hailed from that island, since many took the name of where they were born. Or, in some cases, the islands were named after the founding families.
Either way, that was ironic. And something gag-worthy surfaced. Andros was a whopping 147 square miles. You don’t think we’re related?
What? Seth burst into laughter. No.
