The conversation between Chi and James was short, though they paused and looked over when Malachi started gasping and sputtering after his unfortunate collision with my knee. I smiled sweetly at them and James smirked, Chi looked less entertained. Within a minute James was walking back toward Ailech and I, Malachi had retreated to the opposite side of the rolling doors. James made his way to us slowly, stepping over or around the bodies of his victims, but I was more interested in watching Chi and her Clan behind him. They were packing, though Horn and Halo kept throwing glances my way.
"They'll come with us. We're leaving as soon as they are ready. Do I want to know?" He nodded toward Malachi, and I shrugged in answer.
"He called me pretty," I said nonchalantly, feeling much more myself, much less afraid or impressed or drawn to Malachi as he sulked in the doorway.
James chuckled, but it was halfhearted. "You really shouldn't let him get under your skin. It's a talent of his...actually, it's more one of his Gifts."
"I'm sorry, are you saying his Heaven-given Gift is to be annoying?" Both my voice and my face said I clearly didn't believe that.
"No, well maybe. One of his powers is to push emotions onto others, manipulate them. He can pull feelings like air around someone if they are susceptible. I can change what people see, but he can change what they feel. He used to use it to make people afraid or to manipulate a situation to his advantage. Now, it seems he uses it to amuse himself and annoy you. You can do what you like, but just know, it's all a game to him. And you're letting him play. Staying calm is the only way to truly upset him."
"Well, I certainly found a second way," I said flatly. "Any other Gifts I should know about?"
"His Sight is weak...or it was the last time I knew him, maybe it isn't now. He could feel this attack closing in, so I guess his senses might be deeper now. He's a Fire Sign, less connected than me but he makes up for it with his...creativity. He likes games, music, has a soft spot for children and animals-"
"I didn't ask for his dating profile, I asked for his Gifts and abilities," I snapped at James, though I knew I shouldn't be taking my frustrations out on him. I just hated not understanding all my contradictory emotions surrounding Malachi.
"I'm just trying to give you an accurate picture. He never had some of the more...sadistic tendencies I did. He can manipulate emotions, and he's actually a decent healer for a Fire. But beyond those Gifts...he's quiet, sneaky? And fast, very fast. I always likened him to a cat growing up because of his eyes, his stealth, and his speed. Unless I used my Sight, he could usually sneak up on me. And as you've seen, he's faster than me, or you. But he doesn't have visions or prophecies, he can't read minds or push them. Just emotions, both with his Gift and just with how he is, with his words.
He knows how to read and manipulate people exceptionally well, even without his Gift. Maybe he can push memories now too if the person is open to it like he did with you in the woods. It's been almost fifteen years though, so I guess I don't know what all has changed, what all he can do. And I doubt he'll tell us. Just keep his Gifts in mind and watch out for the ones you know. He can't be trusted." James finished quietly, sounding defeated like he was saying it more to remind himself than me.
"I've felt him pushing emotions on me before, I think. Definitely the memories. Sometimes it's like he scares me, and sometimes the opposite. Sometimes I feel a draw to him like I did with the Collector in the beginning. And I already know I can't trust him, he's evil."
I rushed the last sentence, trying to get as far from my admission about the strange connection as possible. James raised an eyebrow but let the subject drop, focusing elsewhere instead.
"I don't actually think he is evil. I think he isn't good or bad honestly, not really, and he isn't chaotic like I thought in the beginning either. He's too smart for that. Impulsive, maybe, but not chaotic. And not evil. He's been stripped of all choice for so long - so how could he be good or evil when he isn't the one doing it, deciding it? Deciding anything. He has certain leanings and learned traits that are evil. He follows orders that are evil. And at first, it seemed like he did whatever he wanted and that what he wanted was evil, but he doesn't, and it isn't. He is smart, calculating, just like he always was. He looks out for himself, because no ones else ever has. He'll do what benefits him, regardless of the side or acton or moral. But, that's more like morally neutral than evil, at least by how I see it. And that's something we can use. We just have to make our side the better incentivized one."
"You want to pay him to be good?"
"No. I just want him to see that he'll gain more from our side than the other. That's all we need, the bigger benefit."
"Having the world not burn isn't enough?"
"Not if burning the world means he won't burn with it. Take out the emotion, the good and bad, light and dark, and just look at the outcomes for him. Look at it all empty of prescribed morality, like I assume he sees the world. He wins with my father and continues to live under him, a slave, or he wins with us and...what? What will he become? If it was better than a slave or soldier or toy, which do you think he would choose? We just have to prove to him that we can win."
James was leaned in close to me to keep his voice low so Malachi couldn't eavesdrop. I could smell his mint and pine mixed with the blood that covered him. I could feel the heat that always rolled off of him colliding with me. And then with his dark eyes on mine, that midnight I wanted to drown in, his thick lashes stuck together with blood, those lips I had kissed just hours earlier and the current I felt running over every inch of me when he was close, I felt my heartbeat pound, my breaths come quicker and heat begin to build in my stomach, coiling, an ache starting lower.
Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, taste him, run my hands back through his bloodied, silken hair, tear into him with my hands at his throat until he was begging for mercy. He was so close, it wouldn't take much for our lips to meet, to knot my hands in his damp hair, to bite until I tasted a mix of blood, both heavenly and earthly. My chest felt tight as something rose in me, something I had felt before, in my room when I wanted to kill him...
I swallowed hard and stepped back, turning to scowl at Malachi as I finally recognized the subtle touch of his Gift. He was watching us intently with a mischievous grin. I could already tell I was going to hate his manipulative power. He winked and waved, waggling his fingers before blowing a kiss just as Chi's Clan approached.
I had been very careful to not think about my reunion with Chi and her boys, much like how James hadn't thought about reuniting with Kael and Nevaeh until we were at the rooftop's door. I had blocked the thoughts out, but now, being faced with four people who hated me, who I hadn't seen since Syn's death - a death I had caused - I wished I would have planned something to say.
"I'm s-"
"Don't. I don't want your apology. Just get us ta this Vault and let us be done." Chi's high voice was as cold as her eyes as she watched me. But it was Ailech who answered, finally breaking his silence after observing everything from the fight to Malachi and me, to James and my conversation.
"My family was killed and taken just like Syn. If you actually want to do something about it and go after the ones responsible, you'll hate the Collector, not Jordan or James, or even yourself. I wasted too much time hating the wrong people and I gained nothing from it."
Chi glared at him, clearly not wanting this random Human's advice, but he held her gaze. He only broke the stare to look at Malachi.
"If your hate isn't helping your cause, it's hindering it. Seems your kind isn't very savvy to that pearl of wisdom."
He looked at each of us in the eye before walking out into the mid-morning slush. At that moment, he reminded me more of Abby than my trouble-loving caretaker.
» ✦ «
The Vault was bustling when we arrived, and at James' suggestion, Ailech brought the newest asylum seekers to Abby. I had a strange feeling as I saw them walking down the hall away from me, but I couldn't place it. When I looked back to James and Malachi, I caught James giving him a subtle nod.
"You should go check on Kael and Nevaeh, I'm sure they want to hear about your last few months more, and I know Kael misses you."
James' voice didn't sound like himself, and something about the whole situation, the atmosphere, didn't sit right with me. I looked to Malachi, wondering if he was using his ability, but he was picking dried blood out from under his nails and didn't seem to be paying any attention to me or my Pair.
"I'm going to go clean up," he rumbled for an explanation as he walked off, still ignoring us.
I gave a quizzical look to James but he shook his head in dismissal.
"It's fine, don't worry about him. I'm going to go shower too. Just...go catch up with them, I'll join soon."
I still didn't believe him, but I didn't know what else to do, or if I was reading too much into the situation. I mean, how exactly should James be acting? Was there even a 'right way' to react to suddenly being around a victim of your past? Someone you grew up with when you had the childhood he had. Someone you were both abused with and that you abused yourself, and then betrayed and abandoned? Sometimes they seemed like enemies, or rivals, and Malachi clearly hated James, but then other times they acted like teammates or even old friends, if mischievous ones, or downright bad influences. Maybe I was just being paranoid, maybe I just didn't understand what James was going through.
I gave a weak smile and left, laying my hand on his shoulder as I walked by, wishing I could do more and feeling wholly inadequate.
» ✦ «
Lying still came far too easy to me, or rather, misleading. But this wasn't something I wanted Jordan to be a part of. I knew she would back me, cover for me or even help if I asked it of her, that wasn't the reason I was keeping it a secret. Instead, it was because I didn't want her to carry any of the blame or punishment. I didn't want to dirty her with what I was about to do. I honestly couldn't even tell if it was right or wrong, not really. Maybe that meant my nature was winning, not being able to tell good from evil anymore. Or maybe this was just another one of the many gray areas in my life where I had to choose a path and see it to completion.
Well, I had chosen. In reality, I had probably chosen a long time ago but was biding my time, waiting for the moment that would benefit me the most...just like Malachi always did. I was just more patient, I always had been. I could wait endlessly for revenge. It made it all the sweeter.
I walked down the hall leisurely, not rushed nor halted. I sent my Sight out ahead of me and felt Malachi behind the closed door already. I knocked as a formality, so anyone in the hall would see me do it, before slipping inside.
Grayson stood behind his desk, his eyes bouncing between Malachi and me, the inklings of apprehension in their movements. I let my eyes darken as the door clicked shut, and turned the lock. Malachi Shifted a moment later, well within the bounds of Abby's rules now that I was present. He moved like a snake striking and was in front of Grayson faster than I could track. He had always been fast, fast to anger, fast to decions and plans, fast to violence. He pushed the old man back into the large bookcase that spanned the wall, holding him there by his shirt. His hands shook with the restraint he was using, careful not to hurt the mage and break the rules of his collar.
"Remember when I promised I would kill you for what you did to me? When I swore I would be the last thing you ever saw? Your time's up, old man." His voice was ground out from behind pointed teeth, low and strained from his fury.
But Grayson didn't show fear, some small redemptive trait in the despicable mage. Instead, he replied calmly and evenly, a smile stretching his old, wrinkled lips. The same smile he had worn so many times decades ago as he stood over Malachi and me, watching us writhe on the floor from his talent, smiling as our pleading changed to screams. My Shift tried to tip higher at the flooding of memories, at the black hatred that filled me every time I saw the man before me, but I pushed it down, gritting my sharpened teeth, knowing I wouldn't be able to control myself if I released it.
"You forget your place, both in the pecking order of the world and within this institution. I can not only reduce you to the same whimpering, pathetic child you were under my tutelage, I can also have you thrown out of the Vault and the protection it grants. I can have you banished and delivered back to Master Darke, just as you deserve. You are not a part of the prophecy, you are not needed. You are nothing here, worthless. So do not try to threaten me, especially when I know that shining stone at your throat is connected to a leash, that you are finally being treated like the feral animal you always have been. Yip all you want, dog, you have no bite here."
Grayson leveled his beady eyes on Malachi and his body stiffened. He let go of Grayson's shirt and slowly stepped back, but I knew it was all for show. Malachi had grown in many areas under my father's supervision, but none further than his tolerance for pain.
Sure enough, Malachi raised his black eyes to his mentor a second later, gazing through his white hair like a reaper. He straightened smoothly, dropping the act that Grayson's talent was too much for him.
"Ooh, that tickles," he purred the words in his low, rough voice before advancing on the mage once again and wrapping his hands around his throat.
But Grayson was just as quick, and I saw lines of concentration crease his old face. With his fists balled at his side, I saw his efforts begin to work as Malachi's grip loosened, authentically this time. He looked to be fighting the tremor as every nerve in his body was alight with Grayson's talent.
Grayson leaned in then, a triumphant look on his face.
"I know you cannot hurt me, you are not allowed to hurt me, but that does not mean I cannot hurt you, you filthy bastard child."
Malachi seemed to almost lose his balance at that, as if the venom of Grayson's words stoked his power higher. Malachi swayed as a new wave of power and pain washed over him, and Grayson took the opportunity to place a hand on his head, pushing him down until Malachi was on one knee, his hand steadying him on the ground. His body shook despite his strain to fight it. And when he let out a gasp that sounded too similar to the noises that used to escape him when he was being 'disciplined' by Grayson, I knew he was losing ground, slipping under the influence of the pain. Which meant it was time for me to play my role, to follow the path I had chosen.
I was in front of Grayson within the breadth of a blink, replacing where my childhood cohort had just been. I shoved our old tutor back into the bookcase, not worried about hurting him, not worried about him at all.
"Perhaps he cannot hurt you...but I can."
Before the old mage had time to switch his pain from Malachi, still kneeling on the floor, to me, I thrusted my hand into his chest, parting skin and bone alike, and closed my fingers around his heart. I would have liked to cherish his killing more, to revel in this long-awaited, sweet revenge, but I knew with his talent, speed was my only advantage.
I pulled my arm back, stepping to the side so he would have an unobstructed view of Malachi, so his black eyes would truly be the last thing Grayson saw before death overtook him. Just as promised. When his body hit the floor, a permanent look of shock was frozen into the features of his evil face, his eyes staring emptily where Malachi still knelt.
I left for my room to go shower, washing the blood of all the day's victims from me, and feeling no remorse.