Page 53 of Broken Ties
“Councilman Hennessy has tried calling you about his concerns regarding relocating for his safety, it’s getting rather urgent as it’s too cold at his summer house this time of year?—”
“Councilwoman Tully hasn’t been able to contact her florist who was from the area, is there any further news?—”
“Councilman Sharpe wants to know?—”
The mere mention of that insufferable asshole snaps my patience in half, and they all scatter like terrified mice at the snarl I let out in my ire, “Enough! I will not be accosted at the front door like this and have the lot of you making whatever demands your superiors see fit! Go back to your councillors, tell them I will be at the meeting and will address their concernsthere. Until then, stop panicking and get back to work serving yourcommunity, not just those who snap their fingers at you from their plush seats!”
I make it three more steps into the building before another smug drawl stops me short.“Councilman Draven, don’t you think this matter is cause for panic?”
Turning on my heel, I find Daniella standing beside me with an innocent look on her face that is about as authentic as the Rolex Sharpe gifted me when I took my place on the council. The box it came in was worth more than the timepiece, an insult he didn’t even attempt to mask.
“This ‘matter’, as you call it, is a horrific and senseless crime against our community. It’s an act of war perpetrated by the gutless and sadistic few who use the power they have to spread misery for their own gain. They relish in our suffering, our fears, and our division. I will not give in to their desire for a panicked response to exploit, simply by not giving them one. Rest assured, Daniella, this atrocity won’t go unanswered.”
She smirks back at me like she’s won something, like she’s digging her way under my skin somehow when, really, the opposite is true. With every word falling from my lips, my resolve only strengthens. Enduring the presence of such obvious Resistance sympathizers isn’t an easy task, but the safety of my community and the most vulnerable Gifted is worth the personal cost.
No matter our current situation, I still believe my Bond is worth the cost.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as though reminding me of my Bond’s current situation and how very little of my attention I want to waste on this vile woman any longer. It takes me less than a minute to offer reassurances to the very limited number of Gifted on the path between my office and my car who deservesuch respects, then Rafe has us on the road to the college campus without a word between us.
The sigh I let out the moment the buildings come into view is drenched in the fatigue and overwhelming frustration I’m trying, and probably failing, at keeping from my face.
“Mr. Shore has called, there have been new developments that he needs to discuss with you in person. Should I let him know to meet us here, sir?”
At least my tight smile to Rafe is genuine, the feel of it on my face a relief after holding the mask of ‘good councilman’ for so long. “With the situation I’m here to address, I fear Gryph’s presence will make matters worse. We can meet him back at the manor once we’re done here.”
Rafe nods easily, weaving through the notoriously fickle traffic with an ease I’ve never been able to achieve, until we’re in front of the administration building. Dozens of students are walking around, some with purpose and others clearly just wasting time between classes. There’s no indication of the hell I’m certain I’m about to walk into. With a deep breath, I wipe all expression from my face as I thank Rafe and step out of the vehicle and make my way up the stairs.
Running a hand down my suit as I step into the reception, I try not to wince at the fact that I’m still wearing it after putting it on yesterday morning. Crumpled and haphazard-looking, there’s no doubt the campus will be talking about the rapid decline in my personal upkeep thanks to my Bond’s rejection.
They all need a reality adjustment.
“Thank you for calling, Sherry. I’ll get this sorted out so you don’t have to look at my weeping Bond any longer.”
Dean Myer’s assistant glances up from her desk, relief flooding over her face the second she sees me.
Glancing over her shoulder at my Bond, she replies, “She’s no bother at all, Mr. Draven. It’s just that I think she needs some backup.”
I’ve known Sherry for longer than I’ve had a real relationship with Nox, thanks to the evil stain of my aunt, and the grimace she gives in response to my clipped tone cuts through the savage mood that the gossip put me in. I regret my greeting to her instantly and turn back with a repentant look.
“I apologize for letting my frustrations get the better of me, Sherry, you certainly didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that. My brother has misstepped with his own frustrations and our Bond is once again bearing the brunt of the gossip mill. It’s difficult to navigate these contentions, and I’m falling short.”
It’s the closest to being critical of him that I’ve allowed myself to be. Guilt spears through my chest until it’s taking every ounce of strength in me not to clutch at it desperately. The last thing I need is to have a Healer called on me for a reaction to my own failures.
Sherry lets out a little gasp, shaking her head at me as she rushes to reassure me. “She’s so young and with no parents! It’s good she has you.”
I glance back over to my Bond, but she’s staring at her feet, tears still running unchecked on her cheeks. There’s an air of fury around her, not misery, and I don’t know how Sherry has mistaken it for anything else.
With another reassuring smile, I skirt around her desk and over to my Bond, stopping before her. She doesn’t acknowledge me for a beat, and when she finally looks up to meet my eyes, the dulled fire there along with the slump of her shoulders tugs at my chest a little more.
I can’t falter now, or fall for her games, even if the consequences of her actions are now causing her pain.
It’s a struggle, but I force my tone to stay low and level. “Sherry said this is over a paper, do you have it with you?”
She nods without a word or even a little of her usual fire. The tugging at my chest grows more insistent, urgent and impatient until that same feeling spreads down my limbs and I’m filled with the need to dosomething. I turn away from my Bond before I can do anything stupid like comfort her or drag her out of this building and away from this bullshit farce we’re all trapped in.
I open the door to Dean Myer’s office without knocking. He startles at my sudden arrival while my brother sits across from his desk undisturbed. There aren’t any of his shadow nightmares out in the open, but I don’t have to see them to know that his Bond is awake, aware, and monitoring this entire interaction. It’s second nature to me now, a sense I have no control over, and yet it informs my every move in relation to my brother. Once, I thought it was a characteristic of being Death Dealers, just another anomaly of our curse, but now I know it’s some inexplicable connection between our monstrous bonds, beyond that of our Bond Group.
It’s a warning to tread lightly.