Greys IV - Chains

Chapter 2 - Dirty Hands

Convincing Nevaeh to give me a chance to speak was practically impossible. She was psycho, and not in the hot way. I honestly didn't know what Ailech saw in her besides the face and eyes and lips and hair and tits and hips and legs and nice smell and soft skin and all the other pretty things women had. But eventually, Kael got her to stand down and shut up. I would have lost money if I had to bet he would be the levelheaded one since his style pretty clearly advertised mental instability, but who the fuck was I to talk?

On the way to Jordan's room, Abby appeared striding alongside us and watched solemnly as I gently laid her into the bed. She was still burning up, burning deeper and deeper through me, but she at least looked peaceful for the time being. Now, Abby stood before us like stone, not at all the frail, watery, worried man he normally showed. No, he was a survivor, and not just for himself but for everyone who relied on him, everyone who looked to him as their protector. He seemed to take that responsibility seriously. But even beneath his mask, I could see the pain of his loss. Losing James and Ailech - one a child he had abandoned, and one he had taken in as his own - it must weigh on him in ways I didn't think I'd ever know. I knew he would mourn later, we all would in our own ways, but now was a time for action. And hopefully, that action would mean there was one less to cry over.

His eyes swept to mine and reminded me of some ancient being. The intensity of his attention made me want to drop my eyes out of habit. But I wasn't about to submit to another master just because he had more power than me. In fact, I was hoping he had more power, at least enough to do what I needed.

"Ailech can come back."

I spoke bluntly into the silence, gaining a shocked, squeaked noise from Nevaeh and the widening of her feline eyes, which had been slit and shooting daggers at me ever since she stopped trying to rip my throat out with her pointy, little nails.

"He gave his soul over to me before I killed him, and I bound him to me. I need a mage to pull his soul from mine. He'll be like Ambriel, in time, but he'll be back, and he can draw from me more than Ambriel was able to take from James. I'll give him whatever he needs so he can come back faster. But first, I need you, old friend. You have to do this."

Abby's face was grim, his thin lips set in a tight line before his reply.

"You cannot ask this of me, child, you know-"

"Then his death is on your head because you refuse to dirty your hands!"

The beast in me roared the words out even as I knew I should stay calm, even as I knew the majority of my allies were either dead or unconscious. I had to play my hand very carefully if I was to survive, let alone gain all I was asking of them. And all I would ask of them in the future. I took a deep, stabilizing breath, reigning in my anger and the fear and desperation it covered, burying my desire to snap all of their necks and run back to my owner, and re-fixed my control in place. I continued in a moderately quieter, calmer voice.

"If it's dark power you fear, you never should have let Jordan behind your walls, let alone James or me. We cannot win if you refuse to bloody your hands as you have required of the rest of us. I'm only asking you to do what you have made each of us do - fight the dark with your own, and sacrifice a bit of your soul if that's the price. You know sometimes the right choice isn't gleaming and noble, sometimes it's all just mud and blood, and you have to do bad things for good reasons. And the blood I'm willing to stain myself with to win this war is nothing compared to the tides that will cover everything if we lose. I thought you held the same conviction. I have given up too much now to lose...I have too much now to lose."

By the end, my voice betrayed me, and Abby scrutinized me like he was putting puzzle pieces together, a novel look for him, the teacher who always knew everything. His eyes flicked to Jordan after mine. She laid in her bed, still looking asleep, though I doubted it would last long. Her lulls were longer, the waves of heat and flames less frequent but still just as strong.

I could feel my cracked and blackened skin from where I had held her itching, the melted thickness trying to heal itself, to mend the burns, but for once, I couldn't. My adrenaline and the pain were probably the only things keeping me on two feet though, so I didn't ask for a healer or call on any numbing names. My Sign was too strong for others to be able to seriously hurt me with their own usually. It had been years since I had even felt a Darkling's fire, the distinct sting of a burn, the ache as it healed. I welcomed it.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Abby's voice broke me out of my masochism and thoughts of how Jordan's flames must differ from my own. I glanced at her again, feeling a small bud unfurl and take root in me, something that had been growing for some time, something proud and protective and possessive. Her pair was gone, my brother, and though I knew that shock was yet to hit me, that James was really dead, that he even could die, I already knew how I would honor him.

I would protect the only thing he had ever loved, the only thing that had ever been his. And now, the only thing in this world that was truly mine. I would take his place and follow her to the end of this world if she asked it of me. Walk through fire and death and Hell if she asked it, give her anything, do anything. And one day, I would stand by her side as she defeated my master and avenged James. It terrified me, but I had never felt more at peace as I met Abby's eyes. This was my purpose, she was. I knew it.

"She's my sister, half-sister. We share a mother, and I think I know of her father as well. Which means I know her bloodline, her real one."

I paused, whether for my own dramatic predilection or to prepare myself to say out loud what had been clear to me since my master - former master - confirmed we were blood. And that she was Irin.

"She isn't a Half, neither was James, they're second-generation somehow, full Fallen. And she's Irin.

Answers are coming, kinda, slowly, at least in pieces & parts. And my babii Malachi is finally showing his true valiant colors. He's my favorite little broken character. But, if you know me, I can't have too many heroes at the same time....

Hmm, what to do, what to do?