Page 63 of Violence and Vice
In the end, though, he believed me and Ares.
Then, the question was, what to do with the information?
What did it change? How did we move forward from here?
All of that could wait.
Because, for now, the priority was to find James, find Markus, and keep them from bringing the Blood Father back.
We’re about to head out—to get back into all of this shit—when Juliet calls.
I pick up on the first ring. "Hey."
"Hey," she says, voice a little softer than usual. "I don’t know how you feel about it, but it seemed like the right thing to do to give you an update. Ophelia’s being moved from the ICU to a regular room."
That takes me off guard. I stop walking, the city still humming around me. Ares pauses beside me, watching me carefully.
"Already?"
"She’s tougher than she looks," Juliet says. "Vitals are stable. She's banged up, but...she's conscious. Alert and oriented.”
I stare ahead, across the street, where a man in a business suit is sipping coffee and yelling into his phone. Life keeps moving, even when it feels like the rug is ripped out from beneath our feet.
"Thanks for letting me know," I say. My voice feels tight in my throat. It feels so damn wrong that I haven’t been there for her, been there with her. She was hurt. But the way things are… "I think... I think I might go see her."
There's a pause. "You sure?"
No. Not at all. This might be the worst idea I’ve had all year. But I nod anyway. "Yeah."
“Good luck,” she says. We hang up, and I turn to Ares. His jaw is set, unreadable.
"She’s stable," I tell him, even though I’m positive he heard everything said on the phone. "They’re moving her."
He doesn’t say anything at first. He’s studying me, reading how I feel about this situation. “You sure, Vengeance? The things she said to you before… I can’t stand the thought of her saying that shit to you again.”
"I don’t know, maybe this is a terrible idea. But I just… We meant something to each other at one point, you know? And tothink of her being in the hospital, with no one with her?” I shake my head. “I think it’s worth a try.”
Ares steps in close, brushing his knuckles across my cheek. "Whatever you need. Do you want me to come with you?"
I snort. “We both know that’s a terrible idea.”
He tries to smile for my sake, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He simply nods and then kisses my forehead. "I’m going to check in with Roman. We still need to figure out where Markus is going next. Text me the second you’re done."
"I will."
We part ways at the curb. Ares melts into the crowd, his tall frame swallowed up by the surge of bodies and motion.
I head in the opposite direction, toward the hospital. Toward a ghost I’m not sure I’m ready to face.
Every step is heavier than the last. I try not to overthink it, but I’m already spiraling.
What do I even say to her?
She destroyed Ares. Almost got him killed. Got people killed. Lives were ended because of her need for revenge.
I try to reason myself into feeling better by thinking back to the real origin of it all. Augustus. Ares’ father. If Augustus hadn’t been such a horrible being, if he hadn’t been taking people and selling them to vampires to feed on, none of this would have happened. If Ophelia hadn’t gone to that Red party, she never would have been taken by Augustus’s guys, and she never would have hated vampires.
But also, then I never would have met Ares. I wouldn’t be engaged to the love of my life. I would still be living in that shitty apartment, being lonely and tired and unfulfilled.
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