Chapter Twenty-One:
Khaz

 

Khaz reached out to brush a few stray strands of hair from Noah’s face then kissed him lightly on the lips. “Time to get up, sleepyhead,” he told Noah as he stirred. “It’s almost sundown.”

Noah let out a little whine, trying to hide beneath the pillow, but Khaz snatched it away.

“Come on. Get up,” Khaz urged him. “You’ll get more kisses…”

“I’ll get more kisses if I get up in an hour too,” Noah grumbled, but he finally opened those gorgeous stormy gray eyes, the ones Khaz could stare into for eternity.

Khaz kissed him again as a reward. “You have meetings,” he reminded his childe. “Rebel things that get me all hot.”

“They don’t get you hot,” Noah said. “You hate rebel things.”

Which was true enough, but Khaz would deal with anything he had to for Noah.

Khaz shrugged. “We need to feed.”

He wanted to show his childe something, too, but he wasn’t going to say that yet. It was far from pleasant, and it wasn’t something Noah was going to appreciate.

Noah nodded, sitting up and stealing another kiss.

“Come on,” Khaz said again when they were both dressed.

“Where are we going?” Noah asked, slipping on his shoes — and, Khaz noted with pride, grabbing his phone, for all that it was a useless gesture with them together.

“I just want to show you something,” Khaz said evasively.

Noah eyed him, but he’d go because Khaz told him to go. He was a good childe like that, yet he kept his own mind and made his own decisions these days — thank fuck.

As little as Khaz wanted to be tied to the rebellion, it was Noah’s choice. Just as Noah would always follow him, he would always follow Noah — no matter where that path led.

They walked in silence, leaving the apartment and heading toward what had been a more populated section of town. It was all but cleared out right then, leaving only smoldering remains and abandoned buildings nearby. A few people had gathered, speaking in hushed whispers, but for the most part, it was empty.

It was like they stood near a grave… and in some ways, it was exactly that. The attack on Tartarus had been catastrophic, and Khaz couldn’t even make a guess at how many people — supes and humans alike — had died.

He knew Noah wouldn’t want to think about it.

But Khaz had seen so much in his time that he knew it was important to think about it, because it would be all too easy to think about this in terms of a victory instead of a slaughter.

It was both, and that was what he had to make sure his childe understood.

“Why are we even here?” Noah asked, his voice a little harsh as he stared at the remains of Tartarus. There wasn’t much there, but there was enough.

Through the bond, Khaz could feel it — just how little his childe wanted to be there, how much he wanted to be anywhere but there. “Because we have to remember,” Khaz told him. He felt old in that moment, remembering things he didn’t want to.

Mikail.

His sire had given him so much, but he’d taken so much, too. Khaz had lost himself even before the bond between them had snapped, and the voice in his head reminding him how imperfect he was — how desperate for love he was — always belonged to Mikail.

In the end, Mikail had been right, of course.

But there he was, standing with the most gloriously imperfect childe he ever could’ve asked for. Noah was like the other half of his soul. He had loved Mikail, but that love paled in comparison to what he felt for Noah.

Noah was someone Mikail would’ve loved, though. He’d have been proud of Khaz’s childe, and this would’ve been exactly what he would’ve done.

“That doesn’t mean we have to look at it,” Noah muttered.

Khaz rested his head against Noah’s arm. “That’s the problem with revolutionaries, though,” he said as gently as he could. “Sometimes they forget the price they pay for their freedom. If you’re going to step up and be their leader, you have to remember.”

Noah sighed, staring out at the wreckage in front of them. “They deserved to die.” His voice lacked conviction despite the words. His gaze averted away from the scene in front of them as though he couldn’t bear the sight of it any longer.

“All of them?” Khaz asked, arching a brow as he gestured at what was damn near a decimated city block. “There were prisoners in there, Noah. Slaves with the supes. How many of them made it out?”

Noah flinched, but at least he didn’t come back with the soldier’s response of how it had been a necessary sacrifice. He cared too much, about too many people.

Khaz wished Noah cared about no one in the world but him, that his childe wanted to be by his side to watch while the world burned or flourished. He knew better, though. That wasn’t who Noah was or who he ever could be. He would stay a soldier, a leader, and Khaz would never strip away what he was.

But Khaz would do his best to guarantee one thing…

That Noah didn’t lose track of his humanity.

It was ironic that he would be the one to insist that Noah keep sight of it when he’d been the one to take it, but there was so much more to humanity than a mortal lifespan. As many times as he’d killed — and there had been so many deaths — Khaz still clung to his. He knew that Noah could turn into someone the world feared if he wasn’t held in check.

The world had seen enough despots to last an eternity. What they really needed was a savior, and if Noah could serve in that role…

Rain began to sprinkle onto his head and shoulders, and Khaz looked up in surprise. “Rain,” he said aloud.

There had been so much fire, so much ash and dust that the water felt strange. Strange, but welcome.

Instead of making a snarky comment, Noah tilted his head to the sky, letting it fall onto his face too. “It wasn’t supposed to rain tonight,” he commented before spreading his arms, welcoming it as the drops started becoming heavier.

They fell faster until the drizzle turned into a steady shower.

Neither of them moved from their spot, their eyes returning to the remains of Tartarus together.

“Everything’s scorched,” Noah said softly, swallowing hard. “It’s all…” He shuddered. “I can smell it, Khaz. I can smell more than just wood and stone and chemicals…”

“That’s why I brought you here,” Khaz told him as he offered his hand out to his childe.

Noah took it. “I’ll remember.”

As heavily as this weighed down on him, he wanted to be a good sire. That meant urging his childe on to be something greater than he was. But it was more than that, because Noah would have what Khaz hadn’t always been able to count on…

Freedom. Choice.

The ability to make his own decisions.

The world had changed forever, and he was the one responsible for siring someone who might very well be one of the most important vampires in history.

Noah didn’t know it yet, but Khaz did. He could see the magnitude of that decision, the way it would reverberate throughout the world… because one person could change everything.

“You don’t have to do it,” Khaz finally said, hoping against hope that Noah would change his mind, no matter how unlikely it was.

“I know,” Noah replied, squeezing his hand. “But I want to. I want to use what I learned for something good.” He offered a lopsided smile, though it soon faded. “Besides, someone has to make sure attacks on Bound and the… breeding camps don’t turn into slaughters when they need to be rescues, too.”

Noah had gotten it. He’d really understood the whole reason they’d come to the remains of Tartarus, and that was all Khaz could’ve hoped for.

Khaz smiled at him then tugged at his hand. “Come on,” he said, rain dripping down his face from his soaked hair. “Let’s go. We have a long night ahead of us.”