Page 55 of Broken Ties
He only stares back at me for a long, silent breath before he gets out of the car and leaves me behind. It takes me another breath to convince the writhing shadows underneath my skin that there is no danger and no good will come from tearing everything apart around me.
When I finally step out of the car, Rafe tips his head to me without a word like the living saint that he is, and the rest of the staff in the manor all avoid me like the plague. Whether word has gotten out of how I’ve spent my morning or it’s just the malevolent air still clinging to me, I don’t know, but I make a beeline for my office to get out of their way. There’s no good in upsetting people who certainly don’t deserve it, and an empty room is exactly what I need right now while my temper is teetering dangerously.
My solitude doesn’t even last an hour.
It’s only the ripple of my bond’s reaction in my chest that warns me of my brother’s presence, his footsteps so silent onthe carpet that only a Draven could achieve. This is the only real home he’s ever had, a sanctuary from everything that I bled and bargained just to have him agree to live here.
I don’t even know if he thinks of it as home.
He doesn’t look up to acknowledge my presence as he takes a seat on the armchair in the corner that he favors, but as it settles at his feet, the nightmare creature does. A vicious and violent thing, it’s always ‘rested’ like this as a Doberman puppy, as though there’s any way to hide the eerie malevolence that somehow radiates from its void eyes.
It doesn’t like me.
The feeling is mutual.
Tablet in hand, he all but curls up there as though ready to ignore me and our morning altogether in favor of his work. That suits me just fine, and I lose myself in reports and meeting requests and random leaflets of intel until his voice startles me out of that maelstrom violently.
“What do you know about Nulls?”
The question itself almost throws me for a loop, but I’m far too well-versed in Nox’s patterns of supposed inattention. He’ll go on long research binges only to come out with the exact solution to whatever fresh horror the Resistance is sending our way.
Setting the pages in my hands down, I shrug. “Only what’s taught academically. I’ve never taken an interest in that Gift enough for independent research. If this isn’t relevant to the situation at hand, Nox, I don’t really have time for puzzles or a pop quiz.”
He doesn’t look up from his tablet, sharp eyes still tracking along the screen as he effortlessly reads while driving me to the brink of insanity. “Do you subscribe to the theory that it’s a Neuro Gift or that it’s something else—something we haven’t named yet?”
Deep breath.
“I haven’t put enough thought into it to have a definitive opinion on the matter. There are strong arguments to be made for both, but if you pushed me to side one way or another, I’d say it’s something else. You and I both have the distinct advantage of our experiences with the Draven curse, though I’m loathe to call it that. It means we both know that there are Gifts that don’t fit the clear designations that most do. Nulls aren’t a physical Gift, yet they affect the physical. They’re not Neuro, yet they’re wielded as such. They’re not Elementals, Shifters, and they’re certainly not Death Dealers. They’re something else.”
Maybe it’s the frustration in my tone despite my earnest answer, but he finally looks up to meet my eye. “The Gifted who attacked Shore? He was certain they weren’t a Neuro and that their strength was growing as they attacked him; it was a magnifier. The Gift only takes what’s already there and manipulates it. Gryph was being attacked so effectively because of his Gift’s strength, not in spite of it.”
Fuck.
When will this nightmare end?
“Do you have any leads on—fuck,anythingthat can neutralize this threat?”
Nox finally gives me that smirk of his, the one that has my bond preparing to join in to the bloodshed he’s surely planning. “More than a lead; I’ve found the attack pattern and isolated the only one where the Gifted was forced into a retreat. Give me a TacTeam and twenty-four hours and I’ll destroy the Resistance’s trump-card Gifted and the house of cards they’ve built on his back.”
With a satisfied look on his face, he leans back in the armchair and I stop to really look at him for a minute. His face is almost haggard-looking with the many sleepless nights he’s clearly been pulling for this. A ripple of irritation works itsway down my spine, but this time it’s aimed at myself. While I’ve been struggling with the aftermath of his trauma-fueled actions, he’s been working himself into the ground to protect us all. Gryphon’s attack has clearly rocked him, only Nox doesn’t know how to express any sort of affection or concerns for others without mistaking the actions for weakness, so instead he lashes out at us all and hunts for the answers until something like that can never happen again.
He’s not a lost cause.
No matter his opinions on the matter, or anyone else’s, I know that I’m right to continue to support him and to back him when his actions go awry. The mess with my Bond was an oversight on my part—it’s up to me to fill in the gaps and mitigate any further confrontations between them.
That starts now, with a distraction that can keep his mind occupied while dealing with the circling threats.
When I finally make itto the Tac Training Center, even the evening classes are long-since finished and the custodial staff are almost finished with their cleaning duties. I greet each of them as I pass with a warm smile, genuine and comfortable on my face despite the nightmare I’ve lived today. Dropping the councilman pleasantries is always a relief, and I had the staff at Draven vetted by Gryph long before my Bond was ever enrolled.
Vivian’s office is the only one still lit up, and he calls out to me the moment I knock. I find him sitting behind his desk and his Central Bonded, Adella, standing next to him with her handbag already on her shoulder. She glances over her shoulder at me as though surprised I’m here, but Vivian lets out a breath.
“Maybe Iwillmake it home before midnight, Del. Now, stop your fussing and head back before Unser is climbing up my ass about keeping you out here late while he’s in the trenches at home alone. He’s struggling with the twins’ homework enough as it is.”
Grimacing, I shoot Adella an apologetic look. “How are your children faring with their studies? I hear nothing but praises.”
Adella huffs at me, kissing Vivian’s cheek before she rounds his desk to do the same in greeting to me. “As stubborn as their fathers, the lot of them! I’m trying to keep their focus on careers and life outside of this damned war, but all I ever hear about is the TacTeam age requirements blocking them from joining the fight and passing psych evaluations to go out in the field. I’m warning you now, North Draven, if you dare lower the age requirements?—”
I hold both my hands up in surrender. “I have never even considered it. I will keep my promise to you about shredding any ‘exception permits’ that hit my desk with any of their names on them as well. I know better than to cross Adella Farley.”