Storm and Fury
“I’ll make some calls. Gideon, one of our clan members—damn near a tech genius—will be able to ferret out the senator’s address,” Zayne said, and that was good news. He was already reaching into his pocket, and he made a quick call. “We should have something in a couple of hours.”
“You guys are going to his house once you get the information?” Layla asked.
“Yes,” I said, ignoring the sudden sharpness in Zayne’s face. “We should—”
“Give it until tomorrow night,” Roth suggested. “Layla and I have some things to take care of tonight, but we’ll be your backup if you get his info and decide to go in.”
I opened my mouth, but Zayne spoke before I did. “Don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Don’t think I care,” Roth replied.
Layla pulled away and smacked the demon in the chest and then she focused on us—on Zayne. “You have no idea what you’re going up against. It could be just the senator. Or there could be human security, and if that’s the case, you need us—”
“Because I will take care of the humans and not feel remotely bad about it,” Roth explained. “You know, if the humans pose a problem to us.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“Not just because of that.” Layla shot her boyfriend a look, and he simply grinned. “But I’m under the impression that the clan isn’t really helping with this, not actively, and you should have backup just in case things go south.”
“She’s right. They’re right,” I said, crossing my arms. “It would be foolish for us to do this without help.”
Zayne exhaled and then nodded. “Once I hear back from Gideon, I’ll text you guys the address and we’ll be up tomorrow. Eight sound good?”
“Sounds good.” Roth took Layla’s hand. “We’ll see you guys then.” He started to turn and then stopped, looking at me. “Sorry you didn’t get all the answers you were looking for.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, I knew he wasn’t just talking about Bael or Misha. He was talking about Zayne. I nodded and then turned, making my way to the passenger side of the Impala.
Zayne followed, opening the door for me.
So polite.
Always the gentleman.
“Gideon will be able to get us the information we need,” he said, and there was a hint of remoteness to his tone.
“I know.”
Leaning against the passenger door, Zayne shoved a hand through his hair. “We’ve got some direction, but with Bael being involved with a senator, that could also mean bad news in the long term.”
“It does.” I sighed, beyond frustrated and emotionally and mentally stretched too thin as I looked up at Zayne. “We’re closer to finding Misha, though. At least there’s that.”
Zayne was quiet as he turned his head, staring in the direction Layla and Roth had disappeared to. “I feel like...we’re missing something. That it’s right in our faces and we’re not seeing it.”
“Yeah, well, Roth thinks it’s because Bael just wants me dead. Like he found out I existed and was, like, let’s take all these elaborate measures to kill her.”
Zayne’s brows lifted.
“But that doesn’t make sense, because why keep Misha alive? With the bond, I’m stronger. He’s stronger. And if they know enough about Misha and what he is, then why haven’t they killed him?”
“I don’t know.” Zayne stepped back. “But we’re not going to find the answers here.”
No, we wouldn’t.
I buckled myself in as Zayne closed the door and jogged around the front before climbing in behind the wheel. While I knew I should be focusing on what the witch had said, all I could think about as he coasted out of the parking garage was what Roth had told me.
My heart started pounding all over again as I glanced at Zayne, his features cast in shadows. I looked out the window, trying to think of a way to bring it up, because we needed to talk about this. Maybe if last night hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t need to, because it wouldn’t have been my business, but now it was my business.
“You okay?” I asked, my hands surprisingly damp as I rubbed them along my knees.
“Yeah.” He looked over at me. “Why?”
Why? I blinked slowly. “You’re really quiet.”
“I am?”
“You are,” I confirmed, wondering if the distance in his tone was really there or if it was my imagination. “How...how did things go with Layla?”
“Good.”
I arched a brow. “Good?”
“Yeah, it was good.”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
He shot me another quick look, but he didn’t respond.
Frustration grew, but so did the sudden sick feeling that tasted like bitterness and dread in the back of my throat. I lifted my hands. I didn’t plan on blurting it out, but it just happened. “Roth told me.”
Zayne didn’t immediately respond, so I twisted in the seat toward him. He was focused on the road, his jaw a hard line. “Told you what, Trinity?”
“About...about you and Layla.”
No response. None. Not even a brief glance or flicker of emotion that I could see.
“He told me that you’re in love with her.”
That got a reaction, not the one I was expecting, but something. His lips twisted in a wry grin as he slowly shook his head. “He told you that?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, and waited for him to say something, anything, but there was nothing. “Are you?” I asked. “Are you in love with her?”
He exhaled as he kept one hand on the steering wheel. A moment passed, one that was so long that I already had my answer.
The same answer I’d had before I even asked the question.
Tensing, I focused on the blur of darkness outside the window. I opened my mouth and then closed it, because there were so many things I wanted to say I didn’t even know where to start.
“I will always...care about her,” Zayne said, his voice quiet. “Always.”
I flinched as the breath caught in my throat. “You don’t have to answer my question. I already know. I don’t even know why I asked.”
“What did he tell you?” Zayne asked.
“Enough to... I don’t know. Get my head on straight, I guess,” I muttered. “What was last night?”
Oh God.
The moment that question left my mouth, I wanted to catch it and shove it back down my throat, but it was too late.
“What did he say to you, Trinity?” he repeated.
“He told me that...that you’re in love with Layla, and that you’ve been in love with her for years. He told me that you guys were together and that she took a part of your soul.” Once I started going, I really couldn’t stop it. “He even told me about some girl named Stacey and that—” I cut myself off before I said anymore. “He told me enough.”
“Jesus,” Zayne muttered. “Why even ask me what I feel or think when he seems to have laid all my business out for you?”
“Oh, yeah, like you’ve been entirely forthcoming with information any time I asked you about Layla,” I snapped, anger replacing the sting of hurt. I latched on to it. Anger was better, easier to deal with it. “You failed to mention last night, when you were listing all the reasons why we shouldn’t do what we did, that the most important one was that you were still in love with someone you can’t have.”
“I didn’t realize you and I were going that deep,” he shot back, and my head swiveled in his direction.
My lips parted on a sharp inhale that went nowhere as that burning sting returned, sharper than before. The knot in my throat was back, and suddenly I was so uncomfortable in this seat, in my skin, that I wanted to be far away from here. Anywhere. On the street. By the river. In a den of hungry demons. Anywhere. My shoulders tensed as I slowly pulled my gaze from him.
“Shit,” he hissed. “Trin, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I didn’t—”
“Can we just not talk right now?” I cut him off.
“No, we need to talk. I’m in a... I’m in a weird space right now. I wasn’t expecting her to be here tonight and...and all that shit that comes with her. I wasn’t expecting Roth to gossip like a damn old lady. I wasn’t expecting last night—”
“Yeah, well, neither was I, Zayne. I wasn’t expecting to like someone who is in love with someone else.” My fingers dug into my knees. “And I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right,” I said, blinking back stupid tears—tears I refused to let fall. I wasn’t weak like that. I was a damn trained fighter. I wouldn’t cry. “I’ve never been in love with someone. So yeah, I don’t understand.”
“Trin—”
“I don’t want to talk about this. What part of that do you not understand? I just don’t. Okay? I’m tired and I want to go home—I mean, back to your place.”
A beat of silence. “Thought you were excited about grabbing something to eat.”
Not anymore. “I’m not hungry. I just want to go back.”
“Right. We can do that.”
And we did that, in perfect freaking silence—silence that followed us into the elevator and ended when I walked into his place, stalking toward his bedroom door.
“There’s food in the fridge if you change your mind,” he said.
Slowly, I turned back to him. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Yeah. Out.”
I took a step toward him, realizing I didn’t want him to leave...and I didn’t want him to stay. I wanted him to force the conversation and I also didn’t want to talk about it, and I was thoroughly confused by these conflicting violate emotions. PrevNextTip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.
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