Page 6 of Broken Ties

He sends me a scathing look back. “Nothing that anyone has said to her has rattled her in the slightest, except the fact she’s not going to be allowed to run off again.”

Gabe blows out a breath as he scratches the back of his neck. “Is that even… legal?”

It’s certainly not ethical, but the dangers our Bond has been in for the last five years without so much as a clue have pushed the morality of all this aside for me—for now.

North’s face doesn’t change as his eyes roam over her, the downward turn of his lips still there, but he’s perceptive as hell, even when he’s being an absolute dick. He knows just how wide the divide between the Bond Group is growing, all of the work we’ve put in for the last five years to build real friendships and loyalties fractured in the blink of an eye. I should be running damage control with him, I always have, but I’m too pissed off to fake shit right now.

Naturally, North calls me out on that the way only he can.

“The Resistance is amping up. Whatever they’re planning, it’s big enough that they’re throwing everything they have at it. We’ve just taken out hundreds of their scouts and troops, and yet there’s no signs of any planned retaliation. They never let us go unchecked, let alone after such losses. Whatever they’re searching for, they’re not letting anything distract their efforts. Our Bond was almost caught up in the Trigger’s inclusion zone.”

My gut clenches again at the reminder I didn’t need and Gabe shifts on his feet, blowing out a breath.

“Whether or not we agree with each other right now is beside the point; we can’t leave our Bond with any doubts of our ability to keep her safe… and here.”

The depth of the fury that tightens my chest is a testament to how fucking woeful this week has been. I’m usually pretty good about not calling North out on his bullshit, but standing here listening to him apply our council tactics to our Bond is pushing it. I have to remind myself that there’s a far more volatile and imminent danger that North is grappling with right now, for our Bond’s sake.

All it takes is a glance in his direction to figure out who he’s really trying to placate here, and it’s certainly not the runaway in the interrogation room. It’s not me or Gabe either, it’s the Death Dealer teetering on the edge of chaos and carnage he calls a brother.

I force myself to take a deep, even breath. “Let’s get this nightmare over with then.”

TWO

NOX

Take her home. Get her away from all of these people, take her back where we can guard her, protect her, keep her, fuck?—

I push away from the wall and curse under my breath with such vehemence that North’s gaze snaps over to me from where he’s mooning like a lovesick puppy through the glass at the girl. I can feel my bond clawing at me, as desperate to take control as North’s was only days ago, and I’m sickened by its desperation.

North sees all of this and immediately begins damage control. “We all have debriefs and reports waiting for us, let’s try to get this finished without creating a dozen new problems for me to sort out.”

A ripple of disgust works through me, but his not-so-subtle strategy of wearing me out at the Resistance Camps has worked well enough that I can follow them into that room without letting the rest of my shadow creatures out to consume the entire fucking building, so maybe he’s onto something here.

Gabe walks through first, his head snapping his gaze away from her the second he walks through the door, but the other two don’t react to her at all. If there were any way for me to find humor in all of this, I’d enjoy the fact that they’re hiding their utter fucking obsession with her so well, she’s now cowering asshe faces the consequences of her childish jaunt. I’m too busy for that though, and I step into the room behind them, shifting into the hyper-vigilant coping strategy I refuse to shake because it’s too useful for the world I live in, no matter how much my therapists have argued against it.

The room is one of the harsher spaces in the Council Offices and is only used when our questioning is on its last days of being undertaken cleanly. The Gifted who end up in here are usually transferred down to the holding cells and then alternative techniques are employed. No matter his playboy Draven facade and carefully placating words, William clearly has his own opinions of our little runaway Bond and what she deserves for the last five years of wasting our time and resources.

I’m not surprised he chose Olivia to send in to her.

The moment the girl’s gaze flits across from her inspections of the others to collide with mine, she looks away again, swallowing as she ducks her head. I can’t help but scoff at her, well-versed in the manipulations that Central Bonds wield unchecked, and even North is too focused on her huddled form to show his disapproval. She looks pitiful. Utterly exhausted and shockingly small hunched in on herself like that.

My mother would play the same games.

Hide the monster lurking within by wrapping those sadistic fetishes up in a delicate woman, put on the acts of helplessness and fragility so no one would even guess the true depth of depravity within her, and fawn over the object of her desires so no one would ever guess the violence she was always so eager to enact.

Even as my mind spirals, my Gift and my bond stay secure in my chest.

When I feel my grip on sanity begin to slip, I move instinctively to check the barriers within my mind. Gryph has always been militant about my boundaries, but he can't helppicking up on something my mind projects. Though rare, it’s happened before, and he’s even been drawn into my mind by accident once, thanks to the force of my trauma response.

If he saw the workings of my mind right now, it would be clear to him that two beings live within my skin. I may have no control of myself, my thoughts, or my shadows, but the bond keeps everything in check for me. My bond keeps us both safe.

When it forces my gaze—ourgaze—back to the huddled girl, I'm struck with the sickening realization that it’s no longer keeping the two of us safe, but our Bond as well.

If they find out about us, what will they do to her?

I’m choking on bile instantly, reflexively swallowing it down as I grab a chair and fix a sneer across my face. I’m convinced my bond allows it only because it doesn’t understand emotions, it never has gotten a proper grasp onhumanity, because it still won’t let me look away from the girl.

I desperately want to look away from her.