Page 36 of Broken Ties
My stomach lurches violently.
My skin is instantly crawling with shame. From any other Gifted, this would be a pathetic jab in the dark and not worth my time nor my efforts. I doubt it would even be memorable among the slew of vitriol I deal with on a daily basis, but coming from Gryphon, I’m instantly ashamed of myself… because he’s right.
No matter what I’ve told her, my abhorrent treatment toward Oleander has been fueled by my own embarrassment and hurt feelings, though describing it as that seems like a gross understatement. After decades of waiting to find my Bond while my own bond grew more sentient and violent with every passing day, losing her the same day we found her was devastating.
At first we assumed the Resistance took her, and I almost killed myself trying to find her. Handing off most of my council duties to my uncle, I worked relentlessly with the Tactical Teams to clear out as many camps as we could find. For two years, I barely ate, barely slept, and my guilt almost ate me alive. I’d prioritized Nox’s fragile grasp on sanity over her safety, and we’d lost her. I’d failed my Bond before I even laid eyes on her.
It doesn’t matter that the rest of the Bond Group didn't blame me, I knew it was my fault. Even if I'd been tempted to absolve myself, my bond would never let me forget. It only allowed me to live because I was more useful in the search for our Bond alive. Regardless, it was the fear of what torture my Bond was enduring that tore me apart.
Then we found her alive.
All the fear and guilt that writhed within me turned into fury at the girl for abandoning us all instead, but as much as I'd like to say she deserves it all, that's not true. She abandoned us, true, but that’s not technically a crime. Even with how looked down upon such an act is within our community, she didn’t owe usanything. Technically, it’s my own efforts to keep her at Draven that are the only real crimes being committed.
Cursing Gryphon under my breath, I pick up my phone as it buzzes again.
If the TacTeams are still fully manned and tailing Oli, I’m going to skip class to check in with my mom today. I’ve been slacking and my head isn’t in the right place to be around our Bond.
Sorry, North. I’ll get my shit together and do better tomorrow, I promise.
Furious all over again, my shame evaporates with the searing heat of my anger. Reassuring Gabe that he's not letting anyone down isn’t an easy task, but I have more than enough eyes on our Bond to keep her out of trouble while he sees to his infuriatingly absent mother.
The message I send my Bond is far less kind, but I manage to keep it civil.
Nox finally unfolds himself from the armchair, the creature sliding easily from his chest to land at his feet as he sits up. Sharp rows of teeth protrude from its jaw as it yawns, mimicking the actions of a puppy with practiced ease. I loathe the sight of them, but I learned years ago to keep my eyes and my disgust away from my brother’s shadowy comforts.
When Nox turns to Gryphon with the sneer still painted across his lips, I move seamlessly into playing the peacemaker once more, though this time I choose a tactic that’s never failed to shift Nox’s attention away from his needling games. "Do we have any leads on the Gifted or what their power actually is? I haven’t managed to look over the reports the General and his team have sent back yet.”
Gryphon winces, but his tone is finally level. “He didn’t find anything, I’ve already read the reports. They gutted the sortingcamp but there were nothing but empty cells and decoy files there.”
Nox shakes his head, his face still savage but the derisive edge finally dulling from his words. “They're deranged but not stupid; a Gifted of that strength who we haven’t encountered yet is going to be the pet project of one of the higher ups. It’s not like Davies is going to leave their medical files just lying around a tent in the middle of the desert.”
Gryphon huffs and shakes his head, accepting Nox’s truce for now. “And the General’s team never leaves enough Resistance alive to get any real intel straight from the source, so we’re back to square one.”
Nox stares at him for a moment, his head tilting to one side a fraction before he shakes it slowly. "Not quite. I’ve gone through the interviews with your entire team and Harrison said something that’s flagged with me."
Setting the papers back down on the desk before me, I shift my focus entirely to Nox. "Harrison? I was there at his debrief, he didn't have anything to say that the others didn't already cover.”
His head tilts a little deeper and I’m struck by the similarity between the gesture and his nightmare creature, still sitting obediently at his feet. Its eerie void eyes shift between Gryphon and I as it keeps watch, never relaxing for even a second. The rigid stance it holds itself in is a clear warning to us both; stay away or die a gruesome death.
Nox’s eyes focus on the carpet before him, squinting a little as he explains. “He described the same set of events as everyone else, only he phrased itdifferently. I can't say exactly what it is, but it was familiar. I must’ve read something like it before, some other interview, but I’d remember if it were something in the last decade. I've already pulled up the old reports from the riots, I'm working my way through the archives.”
He shifts again, pulling his tablet out from where he’d wedged it in the cushions of the armchair last night when sleep finally won out. The moment he logs in, his eyes glaze over and in an instant he's lost in his research again. It’s the only time my brother is truly content, when he’s too busy sifting through a problem until he’s solved it to think about the horrors lurking in the darkest nooks of his mind.
Gryphon watches him out for a moment before he turns back to me with a firm nod as though we’ve come to an agreement. "I'll reread Harrison's interview now, see if anything looks familiar. I'm not sure what good I'll be, but it’s worth a try."
Collecting the papers once more, I glance at my phone when it vibrates on the table again right as someone knocks on the door. Gryphon calls out to Kyrie, the smile on his face as he greets his sister is the first genuine one I've seen from him since we found our Bond and brought her back.
It’s been two years since Kyrie left the TacTeams to take over their mom’s cafe when the General left Draven, but when she leans over to hug her brother tightly, there’s a gun strapped to each of her hips and a knife tucked visibly in her boot. Raised by an unforgiving asshole who had no issue openly favoring his son over her, Kyrie is the definition of pent-up fury and daddy issues.
She’s one of the few Gifted outside of my Bond Group I’d trust with my life, but I secretly pity whoever ends up her Bond. The moment she was old enough, she moved out of the General’s house and has lived in thirty different apartments since. The TacTeams gave her enough variety that she stuck with them for almost a decade, but I wasn’t surprised when she resigned either. Whoever she’s meant to be with, they’ll have a hell of a time convincing her to settle down in any aspect of her life.
I’m glad Gryphon isn’t the same.
My phone buzzes again and I sigh deeply, switching it to silent when Nox’s eyebrow twitches maliciously at me. When I finally check my messages, expecting a reply from Gabe, I find a long and exaggerated explanation of my Bond’s morning routine, every minute detail drawn out tediously as though I have any use for her in-depth analysis of the benefits of cool mint toothpaste over peppermint.
Except I’ve never been a man who missed the finer details of things, and learning every tiny detail of my Bond’s inner workings was once my sole priority. Even now, it’s in my top three, but for far less favorable reasons.
I want to be able to not only anticipate her reactions and responses to things, but to know her safety nets, her comfort zones, and exactly where she’d run to if ever given the chance. I want to know absolutely every inch of her mind until I might as well be thinking for the both of us.