Page 30
Story: A Kingdom of Monsters
Ambrose jerked, and spun toward me. “What?”
“It’s so fucking obvious now, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. You’re looking at her like–”Like how I’d watched her for months.
The evidence was clear enough on his face. It was a longing shadowed by torment, and all too familiar.
Ambrose snorted and raised an eyebrow. “I’m looking at her like what? Are you a mind reader now?”
I shook my head, confused but absolutely sure I was right. “You’re fixated on her.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll admit she’s tempting. If she wanted to climb into my bed I certainly wouldn’t say no, but unfortunately she seems satisfied enough already. I suppose there’s no accounting for poor taste.”
That was bullshit, and I saw right through it immediately.
“Is this why you suddenly care so much about the curse, then?” I demanded. “For Lonnie?”
“It couldn’t just be thatIdon’t want to die? You’re paranoid, Sci.”
I barked a harsh laugh. Yes, I was paranoid, which was why I noticed immediately that he hadn’t actually denied my accusation.
This was it, then–the thing that I’d been sure I was missing. My brother was enraptured with my mate. Suddenly, so many things became clear: Why he’d kept Lonnie as a guest on his ship rather than a prisoner and agreed to help her rescue us from Underneath. Why he was still here playing librarian rather than raiding army outposts in Aftermath, or whatever the fuck he usually did with his time. Why he kept trying to force peace between him and I.
Now that I saw it, I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed before, and I had no idea how to feel about it.
“Fine,” I said, as if agreeing with him. “You don’t care about her at all. Just say that, and I’ll drop it.”
He stared at me, and I could practically see the calculation taking place behind his eyes. He knew I’d trapped him. He couldn’t lie outright, but if he refused to answer the question I’d get my answer anyway.
“What do you want from me?” he demanded finally. “I’m quite sure you can’t hate me any more than you already do, so what do you have to gain from pushing this?”
I looked Ambrose up and down, assessing him as if I’d never seen him before. And maybe, in a way, I hadn’t.
I sunk into the armchair that Lonnie had just vacated, and put my elbows on my knees. I waited for the familiar pang of jealousy and even of rage that always accompanied any thoughts of another male even looking at Lonnie. But as I’d half expected that it wouldn’t, the feeling never came.
Ambrose watched me warily, as if expecting me to try and attack him again. Strangely, the idea hadn’t even occurred to me. I’d been teetering on the edge of violence for days, but now ratherthan wanting to attack him, I simply wanted to know what was going on.
Was Lonnie aware of his feelings? Was that why, despite everything, she seemed to want him around us? Ambrose had kidnapped her, had her shot with a crossbow, and nearly killed her on countless occasions. I couldn’t see what possible redeeming quality she saw in him.
Granted, I also often wondered what she saw in me. I’d treated her just as horribly as Ambrose had–worse, in some respects.
Part of me was starting to worry that she simply liked broken people. She seemed to seek out the worst possible monsters and aimed to rehabilitate us through sheer force of will. If that was the case, my brother would undoubtedly become her next project.
“Say something,” Ambrose demanded.
“I can’t. I’m thinking.”
“Well what are you fucking thinking?” he barked, finally dropping the false serenity he’d been holding on to for weeks.
I shook my head, dazedly, unable to find the words to describe the ideas flitting through my mind. Instead, I decided to test my theory.
I let go of my hold on my power once more, and let a tendril of shadow drift across the room toward my brother. Ambrose eyed it warily, but didn’t move. I let the shadow curl around his wrist, squeezing tightly before falling away. Then, for good measure, I tried zapping him with pain. He didn’t even twitch.
I let go of the breath I’d been holding. It wasn’t all my magic he was immune to then, just the violent aspects–just like Lonnie.
I sighed in resignation. “How long have you known she was your mate?”
He eyed me, somewhere between apprehensive and defiant. “What makes you think that?”
“I can’t hurt you.” I laughed bitterly. “I can’t hurt Bael either even if I wanted to, because it would hurt Lonnie and the bond won’t let me. That would have been fucking helpful to know all these years. I could have saved myself the effort of trying.”
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