chapter 6
THE FIRST THING WE DID WAS TO GET HER TO EAT, BUT it wasn’t a simple process. I took Alex upstairs and sat her at the table. The entire time she kept her eyes glued to her hands, which were folded in her lap.
Alex didn’t speak unless she was directly spoken to, and even then, she didn’t raise her eyes. I set a plate of cold cuts and a bowl of fruit in front of her, along with a can of grape soda—her favorite.
She didn’t move.
I glanced at Marcus, who remained by the door, making sure no one entered. Apollo had disappeared the instant I’d brought her out of the cell. Bastard. “You have to be hungry, Alex. You haven’t eaten a thing in days.”
“My name is Alexandria,” came the soft whisper.
I blinked several times and then pushed the plate toward her. “Aren’t you hungry, Alexandria?”
“Am I?”
It clicked then. Like most indentured half-bloods, they had to be ordered—ordered to do everything. Sitting back, I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Please eat, Alexandria.”
Her lashes lifted. Those strange eyes met mine for a brief second, and then went to the plate of food. She was slow to eat at first, but once she grew comfortable—or confident in what she was doing—she finished the plate and most of the bowl. Two cans of soda later, she tugged at a limp lock of hair.
Marcus shook his head and turned, leaving us. Did he regret all those times that he’d wished Alex was more amenable? Funny thing was, even when I’d demanded that she not do something in the past, I’d secretly loved that she rarely listened.
I stood, surprised when she automatically came to her feet. “I’ll show you to your room and you can shower if you want.” I bit the inside of my cheek as her lashes swept down. Try this again. “You will clean up and then rest.”
“Okay.” She looked up, her eyes drifting over my face. “I…”
“What?” I stepped forward.
Alex moved back behind the chair as if it were some kind of shield. She shook her head. I gave her a few moments to speak again, but she’d gone mute. I wanted to reach out and touch her, comfort her, but I had a feeling it would upset her.
I led her to the bedroom I’d been staying in. A smaller room was linked with mine through a shared bathroom. Placing her in that room would enable me to keep an eye on her.
At least that’s what I told myself as I showed her the shower and placed two towels and a robe on the bathroom sink. It had nothing to do with the fact I just wanted her close to me.
Yeah, I wasn’t kidding anyone.
At first I thought I was going to have to undress her, and dear gods, there was no way I could do that and not, well, think and feel the things I would. Then she grabbed the hem of her sweater and started to lift. I had to force myself from the bathroom. Saint Delphi my ass.
Shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. The water turned on, and I pushed off, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed. Weariness seeped into my bones. Maybe I could sleep now, at least longer than a few hours.
A very small, minuscule amount of relief pinged through me. Alex was moving around, not trying to kill anyone, and no longer connected to Seth. Something to celebrate, right? No. What was walking around wasn’t really Alex. She couldn’t be that meek if she tried.
Fifteen minutes passed and the door slowly cracked open. A much cleaner Alex peeked out, clutching the robe’s collar, eyes downcast. She stepped into the bedroom, shifting from one foot to the next.
“I’m finished.”
I stood, staring at her—transported back to the day I’d brought her back to the Covenant and seen what lay beneath the grime and muck—the same maddening rush of feelings sucker-punched me.
Alex was beautiful—flawless—to me.
Her lashes lifted. Our eyes locked, and a sweet flush crept across her cheeks. My gaze dipped to her parted lips and a very different kind of hunger stirred. Before I knew what I was doing, I crossed the room, hands outstretched, reaching for her.
Alex darted back, her knuckles bleaching white. Confusion shot across her face as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. Anxiety rolled off her as she stared back at me.
I stopped short, pulling my hands back. What was I thinking? She was… afraid of me—afraid of her Master. I cursed.
She jumped, eyes widening.
I’d never hated myself more. Clamping down on my emotions, I gave her space. “Stay here. I’ll find you some clothes.”
“Yes, Ma—”
“Don’t call me that.” My tone was harsher than I intended and I worked to soften it. “Call me Aiden. Okay?”
Alex nodded.
Tearing myself away from her, I headed to the door and glanced over my shoulder. My brows furrowed. She stood in the same spot, hands clenching the robe and eyes on the floor as if it was some sort of beacon. What the hell was she doing?
Then it struck me. I’d told her to stay. And she was staying. “Alex…”
“My name is Alexandria.”
“Okay.” I sighed, approaching her carefully. When I was sure she knew I was beside her, I cupped her elbow. “You don’t have to stand here. You can do whatever you want, Alex—Alexandria. Sleep. Or watch TV.” I nodded at the flat screen in the corner as I led her to the bed. “You can do as you wish. Okay?”
Sitting down, Alex nodded and watched me. “You’re coming back,
right?”
“Of course,” I assured her. She kept glancing around the room, growing more and more agitated. “I won’t be gone long at all. I promise.” Alex nodded again. “Okay, Ma…” She flinched. “Okay, Aiden.”
It didn’t take me long to find clothes for her. All of her things were still in the room next to mine. Marcus had already checked in, then disappeared back downstairs, and now Deacon hovered by the door.
Gathering up Alex’s clothes, I faced my brother. “What’s up?”
He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “How’d it go?”
“She fought it, as expected, but it worked.” I sat on the arm of a chair, yawning. “She’s… she’s not like she was.”
“As in she’s not Evil Alex…?”
I shook my head. “She’s… just not—it’s only temporary.”
Deacon pressed his lips together. “That bad, huh?”
“I didn’t say it was bad.”
He arched a brow. “I know you, Aiden. Your disappointment—in yourself, not Alex—is written all over you. It’s practically dripping from your grubby face.”
My brows rose. “I’m grubby?”
“You’re kind of gross. Might want to think about shaving, too, unless you’re going for the homeless look with no chance of getting laid.”
I laughed and stood. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A genuine smile, one that was so rare on my brother, parted his lips, though it quickly faded. “She’s going to be okay, right? I mean, someone will find a way to break the connection and she’ll be snarky-but-not-homicidal Alex in no time? They have to.”
My good humor vanished. A crack broke my control, shattered the weakened wall around me. “Gods, I hope so, Deacon. I can’t…”
“Live without her?”
Turning away, I didn’t answer because there was no need. “Has it always been that obvious?”
“Honestly?” Deacon laughed. “I knew you had a thing for her and her for you from the moment you came back from Atlanta and bitched me out. To me, it was obvious, but only because I know you. It’s funny, because she’s a half, but in a weird way she’s perfect for you, don’t you think?”
I smiled weakly. “Yeah, I think so.”
There was a pause and then he asked, “Even if all of us make it out of this alive and the gods don’t go all god-zilla on the world and she goes back to Team Aiden, how are you two going to get your happily ever after?”
“We’d leave. That was our plan. It would work. Apollo owes us.”
“No shit?” He sounded incredulous, not upset. “You’d give up being a Sentinel? Run off and try to live as mortals?”
Nodding, I faced him. Sadness congealed in my chest. “Yeah, that was our plan. I was going to tell you. We’d work something out so that you and—”
“Dude, I know you’d make sure I knew where to find you,” he said, blinking several times. “Damn, Aiden…”
“What?”
“It’s just… wow, I’m happy for you. I think this is great. It’s love—the real kind you make sacrifices for. The kind where you scream ‘screw it’ to everyone else. That’s envy-worthy.”
I arched a brow. “Not quite sure any part of my life is envy-worthy right now, considering that Alex thinks I’m her Master”
“Hey, you know, that could be—”
“Don’t even go there.”
“Okay. Okay. But it will get better.” His familiar gaze flicked up, meeting mine. “You’re doing okay, Aiden. Better than most would do in this… situation.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, shifting my bundle. “So are you.”
“I know.” Deacon grinned. “I’m just awesome.”
“And modest.” I stopped in front of him, lowering my chin. “Seriously, how are you holding up?”
He shrugged. “Been through worse, so don’t worry about me. You have enough on your plate.”
Not worrying about Deacon was going against nature. I’d spent the last decade of my life worrying about him—maybe a little too much. Smothering him instead of supporting him.
Deacon tipped his head back, suddenly looking much older than seventeen. “Go get some rest—shower first, though.” A quick flash of a grin appeared. “We’ve got the watch for now.”
I nodded, handing over the proverbial reins. Stopping at the bathroom door, I turned back to him. “Deacon?”
He brushed a curl out of his eyes. “Yeah?”
“I know about you and Luke, and I don’t care as long as you’re happy. Just do right by him, and you know what I mean.”
His mouth dropped open, and for once, it was me surprising my brother and not the other way around.
I didn’t even go into my bedroom, opting to place Alex’s clothes on a shelf and clean up first. After a long and hard look at myself in the mirror, I acknowledged I did look… grubby. Digging out a razor, I showered and then shaved quickly. A pair of clean pajama bottoms was tucked back away in the shelving, but no shirt. Hoping Alex didn’t freak out when she saw my bare chest, I opened the bathroom door.
And I came to a complete standstill.
Alex was curled on her side on top of the bedspread, her hands folded under her chin as if she was praying. Her lips were parted and rosy. Two curvy legs peeked out from under the robe, immediately drawing my attention. I’d always loved Alex’s legs.
She was fast asleep.
Setting her clothing on a nearby chair, I went to her side and called her name. She murmured something, and I felt a damn flutter—an actual flutter—in my chest. Very carefully, I placed another blanket over her legs. Either exhaustion or the Elixir had taken its toll on her. I pulled the cover up, tucking it around her.
Backing away from the bed, I left the room and stalked through the quiet house. Downstairs, off of the basement, was a small room that was nothing but four cinderblock walls. Someone had strung a punching bag from the ceiling.
Pent-up frustration and helpless anger reared its head, and a second later, my bare knuckles crashed into the worn, tough leather. I went crazy, and while each punch brought a spike of pain across my hand, I welcomed it.
Hours passed as I jabbed and kicked. Sweat poured off me, stinging my eyes and the torn skin along my knuckles. Physical pain did nothing to dampen the torment building inside me.
In a flash, I was taken back to the past summer, when I’d seen Alex doing the very same thing, after she’d discovered the truth about her mother. She had been a fierce, beautiful creature as she’d whirled around the practice dummy. A cyclone of raw emotions had reached out across the training room, tapping into my own mixed-up feelings. When she had sensed my presence and our gazes locked, as crazy as it sounded, I’d felt what she had.
Dragging in a ragged breath, I stopped and looked over my shoulder toward the door. Why I’d been expecting to find her standing there I’ll never know. Of course, the doorway was empty.
Alex was empty.
I went back upstairs, grabbed a towel from the dark bathroom and cleaned myself up. Back in the bedroom, I glanced at the oversized couch pushed up against the wall, and then grabbed a thin quilt off the end of the bed. Every cell in my body demanded to be close to her, but it seemed wrong. If she woke with me beside her, I was afraid it would upset and confuse her. That was the last thing I wanted. Easing down on my side, I spread the quilt out and watched her sleep until exhaustion pulled me under.