Page 50 of His Atonement

Ever seen Dexter? Yeah, totally feeling that vibe right now.

But instead of a knife or a crowbar or some other weapon, Zan comes over and straps a pair of safety goggles to my face.

"What—"

"Just wait.” His lips curve into a slight smile, a genuine smile, before he turns and walks through a door on the opposite side of the room. When he returns, he's pulling a dolly loaded with very tall windows still in the pane with one hand and carrying two baseball bats in his other.

Ah yes, he's going to beat me to death.

Perfect.

I watch as Zan begins setting the windows up all over the large empty space, watch as he walks over to the table and puts on his own pair of safety goggles before he kicks off his flip flops and reaches into the cabinet I didn't notice and removes a pair of sneakers. Once those are on, he grabs both bats and hands me one, tries to anyway because I'm too confused to take it.

"Take it,” he says with an out of place hopeful expression. ”You will enjoy this."

Slowly I grab the bat and wait for an explanation, one Zan begrudgingly gives.

"Cora is bubbly most of the time, silly and very sweet, but I fear my lovely sister also has a wicked little temper on her." Zan takes his phone from his pocket and puts it into a dock on the table. "It remains mostly dormant, but when her mate or her family are involved, threatened in some way, my most precious gem can resort to rather violent ways of dealing with such feelings. So, in the best interest of those around her as well as for her mental health, Havok, his brothers, and I created this space for Cora to work out her frustrations in a more constructive way."

"Oh my god, it's a rage room!" It makes total sense and warms my fucking heart that Zan brought me here. Then I giggle when I see the puzzled look on his face. "You know, a rage room? A place where you can go to break shit that can be broken in order to work through your feelings without long lasting effects?"

"I suppose that's what this is then, but I have never heard it phrased in such a way."

"They're popular in LA, all over the place really, but people are super angry in big cities, so they're everywhere." I look around again and smile. "There was one not too far from Culver City that I hit up when I needed to, but it's been a while."

Zan goes back to his phone and must settle on a playlist because he saunters back over to me with his perma-swagger and lifts a brow. "And what great many things cause you such anger that you need theserage rooms?"

Despite how much this means to me, how I want to kiss the shit out Zan for being so goddamn thoughtful right now, I am definitely not going to get into that with him.

So instead I shrug. "Life in general, I guess. She's a bitch and then we die, right?"

Zan frowns. "Who is a bitch?"

"Life." God he's cute when he's confused.

"So she is a bitch and then you die? I do not understand the connection."

I wave him off with a grin that turns into a full blown smile as Haydn's Cello Concerto No. 1 in C Major filters through the surround sound speakers. "It's just a saying, but life makes me angry so I work it out the best I can so I'm not a mess of fury until I die." Adjusting my goggles I turn to face him and point up at the speakers. "I love this piece."

The smile Zan gives me in return is fucking blinding, a thousand megawatt smile that is so genuine and full of so much pride I nearly fall over from it, but just as quickly it turns into that sardonic grin.

"Well then, my darling girl, let's work out the fury in a most constructive way.” He adjusts his goggles, and fucking winks at me. "Batter up."

I know I'm not supposed to like Zan but man, he is making it really hard to hate him.

I guess I'll just settle for being his frenemy for the time being.

No harm can come from that, right?

She-Devil Magic

Over the course of my eleven hundred and seventeen years I have only ever regretted one thing, just one, and that was how my actions caused my precious sister to suffer through multiple lifetimes at my own hand.

Killing Cora nine times while attempting a tenth, preventing her from living the life she so greatly deserves over and over. Yes, that has been my only regret in my many centuries of existence, until now.

Now I fear I have another thing to add to my growing list of regrets and that thing isn’t actually a thing, it is Frankie.

I don't know what possessed me to show her kindness, to help her with the archery she was failing miserably at or take her to the garage to destroy what wound up being twenty-five windows and three sets of dishes.