Page 122
Story: The Duplicity of Thieves
“I've never known you as someone who can just stand to the side and watch shit happen. You tried to obliterate an unknown entity without even thinking.”
“Keep it down. I still haven’t told him,” I hiss.
“If he knows you at all, he married you knowing damn well you’re a crazy badass who doesn’t stand on the sidelines of the parade.”
“We’re going to be separated for the first time ever.” I try to process it.
“Don’t compare it to that night. I’m not dying. We have our own paths we have to walk. I’m proud of you. You’re going to do amazing things.”
“Stop talking like I will never see you again,” I sniffle. She doesn’t counter it. “I won’t see you again.”
“Think about it like this: I’m going to help our people from the inside. You’re going to be on the front lines and give us some representation for once. We’ll tag team it. Don't think about it like a goodbye. We’re already building a clinic,” she explains excitedly. “We’re going to train more people to be healers and bring real health care to the Republic.”
I can’t formulate words. They’re passing by too fast. I want to scream. I want to cry. But a part of me feels fucking relieved. I will truly be free. I take a look at my sister and see the sheer glee in her eyes that she's trying to hide, and I realize that she's going to be free, too.
“I love you so much, Viv. I’m proud of you, too.”
She lays her head back on my shoulder, and I place an arm around her.
“I’m leaving tonight,” she says.
“I know." It’s why Bella isn’t here. Somehow, I had missed the bag Vivian had left in the car, but I see it now. They’re leaving tonight. By the morning they should be halfway to the Republic. “Tell Bella I love her for me.”
“I will,” Vivian croaks. “I’ll tell everyone.”
“Everyone but Cam,” I snort, holding back tears.
Vivian is almost openly weeping and laughing at the same time. The guards that managed to somehow gather around us are shoulder to shoulder, blocking everyone’s view of our tearful goodbye. Just as I open my mouth to say something else to offset the pain, I can feel Aedon’s presence at my back.
“Hello, ladies,” he says crisply. Hermes lounges in the doorway awkwardly, trying to call Vivian’s attention and avert his gaze from the scene.
“I gotta go.” Vivian gives me an apologetic look, hugs me tight one last time, and runs away.
“Are you alright, Jos?” he asks.
“I’m happy.” It’s the truth. At that moment, I let Vivian go. I can lose my shit about it later. Being upset won’t change anything. The fact that I’m happy doesn’t either.
With a sad sigh, I face my husband. Both hands are in his pockets, and a storm brews in his eyes. He’s still pissed about my disappearance. Goosebumps bloom on my skin. I will never tire of looking at him. He’s perturbed and disheveled. My absence really did a number on him. It probably wasn’t right. I know he’s stressed about tonight, but who would I be if I didn’t foolishly run off and watch disaster unfold?
“I suppose you find this funny,” he says, analyzing my face.
I smile sheepishly. “At Minos’ expense?”
He overpowers me and catches my chin between his fingers. “You’re a disease,” he growls, putting his mouth to mine.
“I’ll consume you. You won’t survive.” I bite his lip gently and release it.
His grip turns painful, sending a fresh wave of heat all the way down until I feel the cool drip of wetness return between my thighs. Shit. He presses his body against mine, crushing me into the railing. I suck in a sharp breath and with a smirk he bends down, grazing his lips against mine.
We share our breath. “You’re right. You have, and I have no doubt that you’ll be my demise, little devil.”
His warm mouth is too close to mine—too tempting. Fuck his punishment. I smash my lips to his, and he hums through both of our bodies. We pull each other deeper into the kiss. It’s frantic. He can pacify my grief and feed into my newfound freedom. My hands grip the front of his suit, and his fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck, threading in and tilting my head back.
“Aedonaeus, how wonderful that you managed to make it. Careful, sweetheart, he tends to get around,” a familiar voice sneers.
Every time someone says his name it sounds fucking tantalizing. The equivalent of sin and violence. Our mouths hover, chests heaving. Everything in my body screams at me to ignore the voice.
The voice.
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