I wipe off my mouth with the prickly edge of my towel that, I swear, must be made from burlap. “You suck.”
Gray runs his towel through his hair again. At least he’s got his pants on this time, though his top is bare. “Told Sloan about us. That much, you can know.”
I nod appraisingly. “Did you stand up under the infamous Sloan’s rage? How’d he take it? He’s always watched Arlanna like a mother bear.”
“He wasn’t thrilled, but he isn’t going to try to break us up.” His eyes flick to mine. “He’s going to leave the three of us be.”
My dinner nearly leaves my stomach. “You told him about me? About the three of us?” My spine straightens as my tone turns sharp. “Are you insane? There’s no way he’d let me near her! Not if he knows my vision’s turned so dangerous, it lights people on fire if I get too angry. How could you do that?”
Gray holds up his hands to calm me. “Didn’t give him your name, and of course we didn’t tell Sloan anything about your fire vision. All Sloan knows is that Arly’s with two blokes, and one of them is me. She’s waiting until he adjusts to drop the bomb that you’re the other one sniffing around her fence. He took that about as well as can be expected.”
I wonder if my complexion has turned green. Sloan is the only person whose opinion of us being together truly matters.
Gray claps me on the shoulder. “That’s about to be the least of your problems, brother.”
He’s started calling me that ever since the riot. I don’t know what to do with this guy. Anyone else would have been territorial and snappish at me kissing his girlfriend in front of his face, but Gray only seems to have drawn closer to us both.
The three of us are still working out the waves of whatever this is, but so far, it’s the most settled I’ve felt in a long time.
Minus the addition of Sloan finding out I’m the other man kissing his princess goodnight. If I could help it, I would have stayed away. But I’m too over the moon to hold back. Arlanna is a perfect fit for me, which I knew would happen if we were ever allowed to be together again.
The shocking part is how seamlessly Gray fits, as well. I have zero practice with friends, other than Arlanna when I was a young boy. Having Gray around, being so welcoming and protective of us both is something I didn’t know I needed.
We finish dressing, throw our towels into the bin and head toward the cell, sitting on opposite bottom bunks while we wait for the girls.
I hate that Arlanna’s in pain, of course, but it’s worse because she says nothing about it. She doesn’t complain, whine, or even flinch. She’s stalwart that she’ll endure it all, though I wish she would lean on us through the storm that I know must be raging behind the scenes.
“Do you like cars?” Gray asks, apropos of nothing.
I shrug. “Not particularly. In the sense that they get me from one spot to another, yes, I love cars.”
“I worked at a garage. In my spare time, I was restoring an old Silver Sun. Fifty years old. Good bones. Beautiful curves.”
“Sounds nice.”
He pulls at his thumb, popping his knuckles in that way he does that makes me cringe. “I was thinking that maybe when we get on the outside, I could teach you how to restore her. We would work on it together. Sort of a brother thing.”
The corners of my mouth curve upward. “Really? I might be dreadful at it. I mean it. I’ve never so much as changed a lightbulb.”
Gray chuckles at my admission, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’ll teach you how to do that, too, then. I’ll be with you the whole time. You’d really be up for doing that with me? Hanging out for fun without Arly gluing us together?”
Finally, I see what he’s aiming at. He wants a friend, not just a girlfriend who comes with a guy he has to tolerate. “I’ll tell you what: if you teach me about cars, then I’ll take you golfing.”
Gray laughs, covering his mouth to damper the joyful sound. “I’m sorry, I just can’t picture it. A shifter on a golf course? It’s kind of hilarious. Is it even allowed?”
I bristle. “Well, if you’re all for integration, I’m all for teaching you things shifters have been generally kept out of. One of those is golfing.”
Gray holds up his hands. “Fine by me. Cheers, Paxton.”
I mirror his body language and take a leap I don’t fully understand. “What are brothers for?”
It’s no chore to pass the time with Gray, comfortable as we’ve become with each other. No one pals around with me like he does—inside or outside of Prigham’s. My guards kept a professional distance, unlike the nursemaid relationship Sloan’s concocted with Arlanna. And any time people my age came around, they were too starstruck or the situation too forced and public for anything organic to form.
But Gray isn’t pretentious, nor is he wowed by the fact that I exist in the same room as him. He has one goal in here: keep his friends and Arlanna from harm. In that, we’re the same. The simple commonality erases a myriad of obstacles that could potentially keep two men from adoring the same woman, and still being at peace with each other.
Perhaps we both understand just how lucky we are.
I stand when the girls join us. It’s my breeding, sure, but it’s also because Arlanna’s jilted walk forbids me to sit idly by when I could be helping her. I rush to her side and take her elbow, letting her lean on me, as I wish she’d always been able to do throughout the years.
Though she manages a look of elation when she’s near me, it falls quickly, so I know that whatever news they have cannot be good. Suddenly it feels like it’s not just her physical weight I’m bolstering, but the sag of her emotional weight, as well.
Gray hides his distress even better than Arlanna, which is saying something. She and I are always expected to be professional, perpetually camera-ready, and never permitted to look as though we’ve had a bad day.
But it’s clear this news, whatever it is, has worn her spirits to a depth of sadness not even she can mask.
Gray stands and helps her to lie down. Sitting does her little favor these days, what with the blows sustained yesterday to her already damaged hip. Usually she keeps all mention of pain silent, which irritates everyone to no end, but tonight, she’s just miserable enough to whimper as she situates herself on the pillow.
Charlotte’s mouth is firm. “Before you tell us whatever terrible news is coming, you two need to see the damage. It’s not the usual bumps and bruises. She’s not healing like she should be. Whatever treatment she had in the infirmary made everything worse. The day of the riot when she was jumped it was bad, and then yesterday when they got her good during laundry detail it was worse, but tonight…”
“I’m fine,” Arlanna insists, but we’re past tolerating that lie.
Charlotte sits on the side of the bed and holds Arlanna’s hand. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re not fine. I’m actually worried, here. Yesterday’s injury was worse than the others. I help you in the shower, so I know. I keep track of your bruises, every single one.” She glances up at the two of us, who are standing around like two useless fools who don’t have a clue. “Nurse Jen needs to look at her. I have a bad feeling about her replacement.”
When a clairvoyant worries, that’s the time to panic.
All traces of levity leave the cell. My brows furrow while I try to dig for a solution. “Is it that the injuries are worse than usual, or that the new nurse is crummy at his job? Because those are two different problems.”
Charlotte doesn’t have any insight into that. Either problem is one we cannot solve. She casts Gray a hesitant look. “Maybe both. What about Rafe? Could he help? His saliva has healing properties.”
Gray takes a step back, suddenly looking scared. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. When Rafe comes out to see her, he doesn’t want to get back in. Even more so when she’s injured.”
Arlanna turns her head, clearly surprised. “You’re not going to keep him locked up until we get out, are you? We like him!”
&n
bsp; The corner of his mouth drags up. “He likes you, too.” Gray rubs the nape of his neck. “The saliva of a shifter’s animal only speeds along the healing if there’s an open wound. It doesn’t do a thing for bruising or internal stuff. I’m sorry, Arly-girl. Rafe can come out another day.”
Her nose scrunches. “This week? Because I love him. I don’t want him to be frustrated like this.”
A shudder rolls through Gray’s body, and then a rumble purrs in his chest. “Hearing you say that? It’s everything, honey.” Then he sits down on Charlotte’s mattress and rests his elbows atop his thighs. “Alright, let’s see the damage.”
Charlotte reaches for Arlanna’s collar, but Arlanna flinches and pulls back. “No! I don’t want to deal with that right now. It’s bad, okay? But it’s mine. No one else needs to worry about it. There are far more pressing things that should be discussed. I’ll be better in the morning.”
Charlotte casts her a look of pure scolding. “Whatever you want. But just so you know, nothing that I saw will be vastly different in the daylight. In fact, it looks worse since yesterday.”
Arlanna folds her arms like a petulant child, but as it’s her body, it’s her decision. I do what I can to draw the attention off of her. “So, what’s the big development that you two found out during visitation?”
It’s clear Gray is hurt by Arlanna’s secretive nature, but like me, he knows it’s up to her to trust us with her vulnerable spots. Things like that can’t be rushed.
“Arly and I are going to be getting weekly visits from my cousin, Deytant, and from Sloan. Sloan got Deytant a job detailing cars for the palace, and Deytant sneaked in a listening device so he could spy on the king’s conversations.”
Gray studies me as the layers of deception hit me hard. Though father brags about how he looks out for the shifters, there’s no way he would ever let his cars be touched by one of them. Sloan must’ve found a way to fudge the facts or something. Then putting in a listening device? I’m not particularly fond of my father, but that accosts me as if I’m the one whose privacy has been violated.
I don’t disagree that it’s a solid plan, but the duplicity shocks me all the same.
“There’s a bill in the works, though there’s been no announcements about it, or even many discussions, it sounds like. It’s not going to go through the cabinet or any of the usual checks and balances.” Gray pauses to look at his forearms, examining the skin as if the answers to life are scrawled over the brown surface. His fist clenches and loosens a few times before he continues.
Sloan and Gray’s cousin must be mistaken. “How is that possible? A bill can’t be passed without those things.”
“Apparently the cabinet is prepared to say yes to whatever he wants, so they’ve okayed it without seeing it.”
None of this makes sense. “Your cousin misheard him. The cabinet barely ever agrees on anything. There’s no way they’d sign a blank bill. That’s preposterous.”
“Paxton, what do you know about your father’s magic?” Arlanna asks me. It’s not an accusation, but a question.
My mouth closes automatically. I’m not allowed to talk about family secrets, but I feel my walls crumbling when my eyes connect with the woman who can undo me with a single smile.
21
Persuasion
Paxton
Arlanna inches closer. “Paxton, tell me what you know about your father’s magic.”
Arlanna’s voice tugs at my resolve. If anyone else had come to me with that question, there’s no way I’d be tempted to talk. But Arlanna? I know I can’t refuse her. I don’t have it in me to keep something she wants away from her grasp.
My mouth goes dry, so I run my tongue along my top row of teeth before I finally speak. “Persuasion. My father has the gift of persuasion. Since our family is from old magic, his gift isn’t as watered down as most. He can make people do things, though only if there’s a flicker of agreement already in them. Like, if you’re on the fence about something, he can easily push you to his side. If you’re not interested in touching the fence, he’s powerless to make you come near it.” I scratch the back of my head. “That’s from his father’s bloodline. His mum’s bloodline descends from shadowmelders.”
Too many memories flash, branding me with marks of a childhood gone horribly wrong. There was never a point in protesting. I didn’t have the luxury of a teenaged rebellion. I’ve long since learned not to wince when the flood of my past comes, but the effort exhausts me. Sometimes just standing is the most I can do.
But right now, even that feels like too much.
I sit back down on the bunk, feeling heavy and tired, like I just lifted too many weights.
Charlotte seems to see the unvoiced parts of me and understand they need to treated delicately. Her physique barely moves the mattress as she leans closer, taking my hand into hers. “Persuasion can turn into control in the wrong hands. You don’t like being controlled.”
Was I that obvious? Can she see the times Father forced others to vote for his policies, the countless nights I was made to stay inside and away from onlookers, or the times he made Havil, my guard, hurt me when I disobeyed?
I swallow hard, stretching my neck. “Inside of Prigham’s is the most freedom I’ve ever had.”
Charlotte’s hands are small but her compassion is grand. “You’re safe with us, Paxton. We won’t let him near you.”
I’m fairly certain Gray and Arlanna have stopped breathing. They’re still as statues. They watch me close, taking in my moment of vulnerability without pressing on the wound too hard.
I hold out my right hand, displaying my fingers to the three. “Father’s persuasion doesn’t work on me because we’re of the same blood. So if I acted up, he would force a guard to break one of my fingers. They’d resist at first, but there must’ve been some seed of a thought that wanted to see my spoiled self hurt, so they’d give in and do as they were told.” My mouth firms as I muscle through finally being able to give voice to the abuse. “I used to play the piano, but my fingers don’t move the same anymore.”
Gray’s hand over his mouth and chin does nothing to stifle his stream of cussing.
“That is the most horrible abuse of magic I’ve heard in a while.” Charlotte drops my hand and instead grips my bicep, holding her horrors at bay, yet still finding a way to lend me her strength. “You didn’t deserve that.”
The only thing that draws the eyes from me is Arlanna’s grunt of struggle as she tries to sit up.
Gray finally comes back to himself, holding his hands out to stop her movements. “Whoa, honey. Lie back down. You need to rest your body.”
“I should have been there! I should have rescued you.”
To stop her from getting up and hurting herself even worse, Charlotte and I get Arlanna situated back on the mattress once more.
“You couldn’t have known. You didn’t even remember how close we were. You had one memory of me to go on. I’m alright.”
Moisture shimmers in Arlanna’s eyes but doesn’t fall. “He’s a wicked man to do that to you.”
There’s a fierceness to her that I’ve always admired from afar, but up close? Up close, there’s a passion in her glare that rallies everything in me.
“You’re not going back there. Do you understand me? I have a place that I bought under my name, not the family’s, and we’re going there when we get out. Come with us, Paxton. Don’t go back to the palace.” Distress takes over her anger. “Regis truly had his people break your fingers? And people say my father’s a monster. Daddy’s never raised a hand to me.”
She finds my fist and draws my fingers to her lips, kissing each of my knuckles as if she doesn’t have any idea what that does to a man.
“Why did you want to know about my father’s magic?” Then my nostrils flare as my body stiffens. “He didn’t use it on you, did he? Was he at visitation, too? Did he persuade you to do something?” My volume climbs as my worst fears flood through my brain. “What did he make
you do?”
Arlanna shushes my worries. “Nothing like that happened at all. Though, now I’m beginning to see more and more why Daddy kept me away from your family. Does my dad know about Regis’ magic?”
I nod. “Father tried to persuade your dad to give him a larger portion of money than they agreed on for one of the jobs they pulled back in the day. Your dad was none too pleased. Given that your dad also has the gift of persuasion, it was a divide the two of them never got over.”
Gray moves over to the door and leans against it, sinking down to sit on the concrete. “The king wasn’t at visitation. Sloan and Deytant got some information from listening in on your father’s car rides. The bill that’s blank and has enough signatures on it to pass is going into effect soon. Maybe this week or next. It’s a policy that would physically brand anyone convicted of a violent crime, so they… How did he put it?”
Arlanna stares blankly up at the underside of the top bunk. “So they can’t hide their true natures once they’ve served their time. The ink in the branding will have magic-muting properties in it that will go into their bloodstream and take away their magic for life. The cuffs won’t be necessary.”
Charlotte stands. “What? They’re going to take away magic permanently with this bill?”
My stomach roils as dread creeps up my spine. I stand up and step backwards as I shake my head at my father, who’s not here to absorb my disapproval. “No! I told him it was a bad idea.”
Arlanna turns her head to gape at me. “You knew?”
“I’m next to rule, so ever since I came of age, I’ve weighed in on all major policy changes. The cabinet was split down the middle on the issue. It’s absurd, of course. Branding is despicable. It lowers us all as a society, and undercuts the second chance inmates are promised upon their release. Plus, branding Sins of the Father inmates is hardly fair, since no one in here actually committed a violent crime. Father knows all of this, and so do the council members.”
I feel so betrayed, horrified that father would pull something so dastardly that he knows I’m stalwartly against.
Sins of the Mother: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrificed Book 2) Page 13