23
Nathan
The sky outside was a somber grey. A single beam of sunlight cut through the cloud cover out over the ocean like a hand from god.
Nate had been staring out the window for what felt like years, barely registering the rush of people around him. Everyone wanted to say goodbye to the leader. Everyone except Nate. He’d already said everything he wanted to say to the bitter old man, and Marcus had returned the favour.
Heeled footsteps clicked across the marble, stopping just behind him.
“He’s gone, Nathan.”
Lexa delivered the message with all the emotion of the five o’clock news.
Clan leader dead. New clan leader imminent. More news to follow.
Nate continued staring out the window for a moment more, then walked toward the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of scotch and a tumbler. He poured out a fifth into the glass, walked back over to the window, and stared out.
Lexa moved beside him. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“I think I’ve missed that bus. Unless you’ve got a medium handy.”
She glared at him in the reflection of the window. “I think it could be good for you, even though he’s not there to hear it.”
“Since when do you care what’s good for me?” he asked. If she did, she would’ve left him in Berkeley.
Lexa didn’t dignify his cutting remark with a response. They would get along quite well as a married couple, he mused, since she had no feelings and he had none left to offer.
“I can say goodbye to Marcus from down here.” Nate’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “His spirit’s probably floating somewhere around my head, berating me from beyond the grave.”
He stared into the scotch, then held out his hand and turned the glass upside down. The amber liquid spattered all over the floor, speckling both of their shoes. Lexa cursed under her breath, clearly annoyed that he’d gotten scotch on her expensive heels.
“He was an asshole from the moment I met him to the moment he drew his last breath,” Nate said. “He turned me into a monster, Lexa. He ruined me for the one chance at happiness I might have had in this life. By the time I started undoing everything he’d done, it was too late.”
“Are you talking about the girl?”
There wasn’t any trace of disgust in her tone, which he found quite admirable. Was she going to switch from sucking up to Marcus to sucking up to him now?
“Yes.” Nate’s hand tightened on the glass. It cracked.
Lexa didn’t ask what he’d done, or why things had ended. She didn’t care. He took no comfort in her company, and she none in his. Was this what his life was going to be like now? In Lexa’s mind, he’d just won the lottery. But Nate lost everything weeks ago and had nothing left to gain now. Nothing that he wanted, anyway.
“He was just a man,” she said. “He may have styled himself as a vengeful god, but he was a kitten in comparison to the true beasts out there.”
Her eyes had glazed over, and for the first time Nate wondered what she was thinking about. He remembered stories from his dad about how harsh judgments were in Greece, stories of sharks losing their fins for bringing unwelcome attention to the clan, or being starved for failing to meet their quotas. An environment like that would make anyone as cold as ice.
Lexa seemed to come back into herself. She shook her head, blinking, and stared out ahead.
“You’re ultimately in control of your own destiny, Nathan,” she said. “You may think that your father cultivated an unkillable evil inside of you, but it’s what you do with the lessons he taught you that make you who you are.”
Nathan glanced over at her curiously. This was undoubtedly the most congenial, heartfelt conversation they’d ever had. His father’s death must’ve caused a crack in her plaster exterior somewhere. If she wasn’t careful, somebody might confuse her for a human being.
The moment passed.
“Come on,” she said. “We’ve got paperwork to see to.”
She turned to leave, but when he didn’t follow her she circled back.
“Stop staring out the window like that,” she said. “You’re not an old woman waiting for the return of her long lost husband. It’s weird.”
Nate turned to her and smiled at the unexpected dose of humour. There was a spark lingering somewhere under Lexa’s hard exterior. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the one to bring it out of her, but it amused him nonetheless to know it was there.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t really feel like signing away my life right now.”
“The clan needs a leader.” She caught his gaze in a penetrating stare. “The business depends on it. Everything depends on it.”
She made it sound like it was a Soda Shoppe rather than an elite assassin-for-hire agency.
He was only a few strokes of ink away from the life he’d been anticipating since he was old enough to understand his future.
His fate.