Well, Telly was obviously half-right. Without the right motivation—say, an endless supply of aether—they are likely to settle for whatever pure they can get their hands on.
There was another gap, and the intensity of what he was feeling, what he wanted, roared through the connection. For a moment, I really believed I could feel him, and the emotion swamped me, draining my thoughts and filling me with the bliss of the connection.
Alex. His voice was chiding, self-satisfied. Are you paying attention?
Yes. Daimon… aether… stuff…
Good. Let me ask you a question, Angel. Do you really think daimons orchestrated those attacks all by their little selves?
Some of the lovely fog my Seth was creating faded as if icy wind had blown down the nape of my neck. What? What do you mean?
Even reasonable daimons couldn’t pull off what they did in the Catskills. They had to have help, don’t you think?
I couldn’t think as my pulse kicked up. So I’d been right? A sour taste filled the back of my throat.
Don’t be upset, Angel. Lucian needed discord for all of this to happen.
Thinking back to the attack in the Catskills, I tried to remember where Lucian had been in the chaos. I’d assumed that he’d been in the ballroom with the rest of the pures, but I hadn’t seen him. All I knew was that my Seth had contacted him…
All those dead half-blood servants, the Guards, and Sentinels… all innocent…
I jerked up, almost losing the connection with my Seth.
Angel, how do you think the daimons got into Catskills in the first place? You saw the security there. And the ballroom? There were only two entrances, and both were guarded. One of the doors belonged to Lucian’s guard.
Suspecting that Lucian had been behind these attacks was one thing—I didn’t put anything past that man—but my Seth? He couldn’t be okay with that. Believing he was a part of all those innocent people dying was accepting something horrific. What my Seth wanted, I wanted, but the daimons… they were and always would be the enemy.
Foes can be allies in war, Angel.
Oh, my gods. A huge, freaking, crater-sized part of me couldn’t process what my Seth was saying. I fought the pull of his emotions, resurfacing as if I were drowning, then gulping in air.
There were so many innocent people, I reasoned. Appalling images of the slaughter came one after another—the servants in the hall with their throats ripped opened, the Sentinels and Guards who’d been eviscerated and then thrown through windows.
They don’t matter, Angel. Only we matter, only what we want matters.
But those people didmatter. We could’ve been killed, Seth. My father could’ve been killed.
But he wasn’t, and I would never let anything happen to you. Nothing did.
We’d been separated during the attack. And if I’d remembered correctly, I’d come very close to being trampled to death. Not to mention I’d had to fight the furies alone. Not sure how he’d exactly prevented my death in all of that.
Angel, we need this to happen. The daimons will help me get to you. Don’t you want that? For us to be together?
Yes, but—
Then trust me. We want the same things, Angel.
Aiden’s words came back to me and I squirmed in my own skin. Seth? You… you aren’t making me want anything, right? You’re not influencing me?
He didn’t respond immediately, which caused my heart to trip over itself. I could, Angel, if I wanted to. You know that, but I’m not. We just want the same things.
I bit my lip. We did want the same things, except the thing with the daimons… I stopped those thoughts. As if two strong arms were pushing down on my shoulders, I was on my back. And then I was drowning in what Seth was feeling again.
Aiden returned with food, and he brought company with him this time—my uncle Marcus. The man was actually being sort of decent toward me now. Ironic. I ate and drank my water like a good captive.
And I didn’t even yell anything insulting.
I figured I deserved a reward, like time out of the cell or something, but that was asking too much. Instead, Marcus left to go see what the others were up to. As soon as the door closed upstairs, Aiden sat with his back pressed against the bars.
Brave, brave man… or really stupid—it was a total toss-up. I could easily fashion the bed sheet into a noose and slip it around his neck before he’d have a chance to react.
But I sat down, my back almost against his. The flare of blue from the chains appeared weaker. Silence stretched out, oddly comforting. Minutes passed and the taut muscles in my back relaxed. Before I knew it, I was leaning against the bars… and Aiden’s back.
My earlier conversation with my Seth had left a weird taste in my throat and a ball of knots in my stomach. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t indulging in my murderous intentions with the bed sheet and Aiden’s neck? Missed opportunity, I supposed.
Lowering my chin, I sighed. What my Seth wanted, I wanted, but… daimons? I rubbed my hands on my bent knees and sighed again—louder, like a petulant child.
Aiden’s back twisted as he turned his head. “What, Alex?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“There’s something.” He leaned back, tipping his head against the bar. “You have that tone.”
I frowned at the wall. “What tone?”
“The ‘I have something I want to say but shouldn’t’ tone.” A little bit of humor seeped into his voice. “I’m well familiar with it.”
Well… damn. My gaze dropped to my hands. The fingers were okay, I guess. But my nails were chipped and short. Hands of a Sentinel—a Sentinel who killed daimons. I pushed up the sleeve of my sweater. Pale-white bite marks covered my right arm. The crescent-shaped marks were a pain to hide and they were on both arms, as well as my neck. They were so ugly, a vile reminder of being trapped by them.
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wipe the faces of all those slaughtered halfs in the Catskills out of my head…or forget the look on Caleb’s face when he’d seen the blade embedded in his chest—a blade that had been wielded by a daimon.
Caleb would be so… disappointeddidn’t even sum it up, if I didn’t say anything.
But my Seth would be pissed. He’d go snooping in my memories, and I wanted him to be happy with me. I wanted—
I didn’t want to workwith daimons. That was a slap in the face to all those who’d died at their hands—my mom, Caleb, those innocent servants—and my scars.
My Seth… he’d just have to understand that. He would, because he loved me.
Mind made up, I took a deep breath. “Just so you know, I’m not telling you this because of anything to do with you. Okay?”
He laughed darkly. “I would never think such a crazy thing.”
I made a face. “I’m only telling you this because I don’t think it’s right. It goes against something… inherent in me. I have to say something.”
“What, Alex?”
Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath. “Do you remember how Marcus thought there was more to the daimon attacks, especially the one in the Catskills?”
“Yes.”
“I sort of thought it was Lucian, especially at his Council meeting. It made sense. Creating chaos and whatever makes it easier for people to overthrow and take control.” I ran a finger over the tag on the fleshy part of my elbow. “Anyway, the daimon attacks have apparently been orchestrated by Lucian and… Seth.”