"You have to decide, here and now, whether you want to emancipate yourself from my father and join The Resistance, or continue serving him, in which case, you'll remain incarcerated." I took a breath. "I am giving you the option to join The Resistance, Quill, and to join me."
He was quiet as he nodded and it felt like years passed as I awaited his response. "Whatever you decide, there is no going back," I continued as I prayed he would make the right decision. "This is your chance to clean your slate," I added. "This is your chance to turn back time and make everything right again." I paused for a few seconds. "My father won't be able to lay claim to you anymore, Quill. You can be free again."
But when his eyes dropped to the floor and he sighed heavily, I felt my heart plummet and the breath catch in my throat. He glanced up at me, his eyes unreadable. "Dulcie, there is no choice to make." He sounded beaten, conquered.
Something within me broke.
How could he still maintain his allegiance to my father? After everything he'd been through, everything we'd been through? How could he make this choice?
"Okay," I started, the timbre in my voice angry. I pushed away from the prison bars and was about to turn around and leave, in favor of some fresh air; but before I could, he stopped me.
"I choose you," he said resolutely, his eyes more serious than I'd ever seen them. "And I will always choose you from here on out."
I swallowed back the anger that moments before had been plaguing me and felt a smile break across my lips. I knew the old Quill was in there somewhere. There was still the flame of a fight left within him, smoldering in the ashes of defeat and subjugation. And that was good enough for me because every conflagration started with the smallest spark. My smile broadened and I felt the fires of my own determination and resistance being stoked within me. "Will you join The Resistance, Quill? Will you stand up with me against my father?" I wrapped my fingers around the prison bars.
His lips were tight as he encircled my fingers with his own. His eyes were piercing, never leaving mine and he suddenly seemed years younger. The downcast strain in his features seemed to melt before me as his strength returned to his gaze and the line of his eyebrows. The Quillan I'd always known was back.
He nodded. "Yes."
I didn't say anything, but held his gaze, and releasing the prison bars, I took both of his hands instead and squeezed them tightly. Moments later, I dropped them and turned toward Christina, eager to tell her of his decision, but his voice grabbed my attention again.
"Dulcie?"
I faced him and felt his eyes boring straight through me.
"Thank you," he said softly.
I didn't respond, but started up the hallway, my gaze resting on Christina. Knight was still standing beside her, his arms still crossed against his chest and his eyes still following my every move. It was more than obvious that he'd watched everything that had just taken place between Quill and me, and he didn't look happy about it. But I didn't care. I forced myself not to care.
"He's in," I said simply. I watched as Christina merely nodded and started toward me, the cell key in her hand. Knight shook his head and clasped his hands behind his head as he cracked his knuckles in the process and sighed deeply. I glared at him before returning my attention to Christina as she passed me and walked to Quill's cell.
"I don't know what you think you're …" Knight started and I turned to find him directly before me.
"I don't see how this is any of your business," I interrupted snidely and propped my hands on my hips, summoning all the willpower I possessed not to deck him right then and there. All it took was for him to open his mouth and I was suddenly infused with anger, raw and irrepressible. It felt as if the blood within me was now burning, bubbling its way through my veins and coloring my vision with red.
"Not my business?" he railed back at me. "I ..."
"Last I checked, Christina was the head of The Resistance," I interrupted him again. "So as far as I'm concerned, I'll take my orders from her, not you." Then before he could so much as utter another word, I turned on my foot, and opening the door, walked outside. I felt as if I'd suffocate if I remained one second more.
###
The question of whether or not I would be allowed to return to my apartment was a moot one. I’d already figured that I was kissing my old life good-bye. And, of course, Christina furthered that sentiment by informing me it would be entirely too dangerous for me to even set foot into the place. For as careful as The Resistance was in securing the borders between the Netherworld and Earth, as well as ensuring the loyalty of Netherworld creatures on the Earthly plain, there were still unknowns. And it was better to prepare for those unknowns than to be taken by surprise.
As to my dog, Blue, Christina said he'd already been taken into account, and we would be reunited shortly. I didn't have a whole lot in the apartment that mattered a hoot to me, aside from my computer, which held the only copy of my book, A Vampire and A Gentleman. It was a book I'd written about my "friend," Bram, and I was in the process of trying to find a publisher for it. I could only hope it would remain safe in my apartment.
But my dog and my apartment weren’t my only concerns. I was worried for my friends from the ANC: Sam, Dia, and Trey. According to Christina, they were already relocated to a safer place as well. It seemed that anyone in the ANC was considered a sitting duck and, thus, had been whisked away into hiding. As to the issue of ensuring that the streets of Splendor, Moon, Estuary, and Haven weren't suddenly overrun by mischief-makers, the solution was the soldiers of The Resistance. They had already started patrolling each neighborhood as soon as the Draoidheil mission was thwarted. All told, I'd made an understatement when I mentioned earlier that The Resistance was organized. They were uber organized.
So now it was a matter of waiting for a ride to some top secret location where I'd be living underneath the radar until things between the Netherworld and Earth settled down. As to what the plan was to ensure that things between the Netherworld and Earth would eventually become less heated, I wasn't in the know. I wanted to approach Christina with more questions on that exact subject, but as I expected, she was more than a little preoccupied. After our little rendezvous through the prison, I didn't see her again.
Instead, she instructed Quill and me to wait in line with five other members of The Resistance for a ride to our new digs. Suddenly realizing I was now high up on the list of most threatened people in the witness relocation program, it was slightly reassuring to know Quill was right alongside me.
"Do you have any idea where they're taking us?" Quill asked as he glanced around, a squadron of ten or so soldiers jogging by us. Quill shook his head in apparent wonder, as if he were impressed. Then his eyes rested on me.
I shook my head. "No, no idea at all."
At the sound of a purring engine, I turned to my left and noticed Knight pulling up in the black Denali. His eyes were narrowed on me and I knew the time for ignoring him was now over.
"Dulcie, we need to talk," he said, rolling the passenger window down. Then he reached over and opened the door, signaling that we were to talk in the SUV while en route to Hades only knew where.
Figuring this conversation needed to be broached at some point, I took a step forward, but was stopped by Quill's hand on my upper arm. Glancing up at him, I noticed his eyes were glued on Knight and his entire body had gone rigid.
"Anywhere she goes, I go," he said simply.
"This doesn't concern you, Quillan," Knight replied dryly, but his eyes warned Quill not to argue with him.
"Apparently, you don't understand English," Quill replied as his eyes blazed in response. "Anywhere she goes, I go."
Before it officially became the war of the elves and Lokis, I pulled my arm away from Quill's grasp and glanced up at him with a warm smile. "It's okay, Quill."
"Dulce," he started, shaking his head, and dropping his tone so only I could hear him. "We are in this together from here on out; and your safety is what matters
most to me."
I nodded, but felt something in my stomach instantly sour, not too good with all of this protective stuff. "You know I can take care of myself," I replied sardonically. "I'll see you soon."
I turned around and approached the Denali, climbing into the passenger seat as I eyed Quillan and smiled reassuringly. He just sighed and frowned. I made a mental note to remind him not to suffocate me so much. Once I closed my door, Knight turned the SUV around and started for the entrance of Compound Three.
I'm not sure how long before either of us said anything, but I was already committed to not breaking the silence. This was Knight's conversation to start.
"I fucked up," Knight said finally, his eyes riveted on the road. His voice was deep, and the sound resonated through the SUV.
I said nothing, but nodded, although "fucked up" wasn't even the tip of the iceberg. If he hoped to have a chance in hell at gaining my forgiveness, there was a whole lot more ice to melt.
"All this time, I was convinced you were working for Melchior," he continued. "I guess I was so blinded by it, I couldn't see the truth."
"So, let me guess, you finally decided to talk to Caressa and she told you the truth?" I lashed out, not able to maintain my silence any longer. Fury was simmering inside me, made obvious by the acidity in my tone.
He nodded. "Yes, she told me everything."
"Interesting," I said angrily. "Funny, isn’t it? How I first told you to call Caressa before Christina ever did and, yet, did you listen to me? No."
He exhaled deeply. "I couldn't think straight at the time, Dulcie," he said, referring to a conversation we'd had in the Denali, after he took me into custody. "I was convinced you were playing me all along."
"Sucks to be you then, I guess."
He swallowed and then studied me intently. "So this is all falling on deaf ears?" There was an edge to his voice.
I nodded, my anger pouring out of me. "Yeah, you could say that."
"Dulcie, I fucked up," he repeated. "I should never have doubted you." He paused for a few seconds. "I don't know what more I can say except ... I'm sorry."
There were so many thoughts and feelings storming through my head, I felt like my brain was going to implode. My body was rigid and I didn't even realize that I was digging my fingernails into the leather seat until I glanced down and noticed how white my knuckles were.
"Say something," Knight continued.
I glared up at him and swallowed everything that was rampaging through me, trying to find the ability to form words. "Sorry just doesn’t cut it," I began, shaking my head in disbelief. "I risked my life for you." I took a deep breath. "Because I was trying to keep you safe, I became something I disdained, something I could never respect."
"Dulcie," he begged, his eyes pools of pain. I held my hand up and shushed him as I faced him angrily.
"Ever since I agreed to work for my father, I've been beaten up and nearly raped more times than I care to say. I can’t remember the last time I actually slept more than two hours. I cut myself off from my friends and everyone else I cared about ... but none of that mattered to me. And do you know why? Because what mattered most to me was keeping you safe."
He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again, his eyes downcast.
"And how do you thank me?" I continued as a shallow laugh fell off my lips. "By throwing me behind bars." I felt my heart rate increasing. "And let's not even mention what you did to me while en route to the prison."
He observed me as he shook his head. "I would never have continued, if I didn't think you wanted to."
I couldn't deny that I had wanted Knight when he took me on the side of the road even though there had been nothing but ugliness between us at the time. Even though the moment had been far from ideal, once I felt his touch, not to mention his hands and lips moving all over me, I more than wanted him. That's how it was between Knight and me—our connection was incendiary. Even now, despite my fury, I wanted him. I didn't believe that would ever change.
"Dulcie, if I knew you sold your soul to Melchior because of me, I never would have allowed that to happen. For as much as I fucked up, you fucked up too."
"What?" I repeated, shocked.
"You should never have lied to me. You should have told me what was going on so we could have worked through it together."
I bit my lower lip, enraged that I couldn't argue that issue. Maybe I should have just been honest with him from the get-go. But the time to cry over spilt milk was long gone. "That's beside the point," I said stiffly. "You knew all along who my father was and yet, you kept it from me." I continued to vent, not wanting to think about my contribution to the ugliness between us. "From the moment you first met me, you had a hidden agenda."
"You must understand why I thought what I did?"
"Yes," I admitted. "I can absolutely see why you would have thought what you did, but you told me there was a time when you dropped your defenses and believed in me. You realized you were wrong then, and yet, you never told me who my father was."
"Dulcie, I'll be frank with you," he said, eyeing me pointedly. "I never trusted you one hundred percent."
"Despite your body telling you I was the one," I snapped, referring to the fact that Knight's body had chosen me as his mate, signified when his eyes glowed.
"It is in my nature not to trust," he responded. "It's what I do day in and day out. I'm a trained soldier, Dulcie. I didn't get as far as I did in the ANC by trusting people. This is who I am." He took a breath. "But do I regret everything that happened between us? Absolutely. Do I wish I could go back and make things right again? Yes, and I mean that wholeheartedly."
I swallowed and stared out my window, trying to avoid the pain in his eyes. I just didn't know how I felt about him now. So much had happened between us, I wasn't sure if the damage was repairable.
THREE
"So where do we go from here?" Knight asked, his expression sullen as he chanced to look my way before returning his eyes on the road. Where we were headed was still unknown to me as I wasn't at all familiar with this area. But wherever we were had to be pretty remote, judging by the weeds popping up through the asphalt and the fact that I hadn't seen another car since leaving Compound Three.
I shook my head and shrugged, answering honestly. "I don't know."
He nodded as if my reply didn't surprise him, then seemed to zone out, staring at the road for a few seconds before returning his attention to me. "My feelings for you haven't changed," he said simply.
"My feelings for you have changed," I said just as simply, trying not to notice the chiseled lines of his face, much less how the ends of his thick, black hair curled up over his collar.
My own feelings towards Knight were infuriating, to say the least. I mean, I was more than mad at him—livid, disappointed, and hurt—all rolled into one big grudge that was currently lodged in my stomach. And, yet, for as angry as I felt, I couldn't help seeing Knight's point. I could understand how he hated my father so much that he would want to exact revenge on his daughter. I could also understand how Knight assumed I was in on my father's plan all along. There was a lot of evidence in support of this conclusion (especially everything that happened over the last two weeks). I could also understand Knight’s anger since I wasn’t exactly truthful about the reasons why I decided to work for my father in the first place. But, given all those exceptions, I also couldn't deny that I was furious that he'd never told me who my father was and, more so, that he wasn't willing to listen to me when I'd told him how and why I was innocent of all his accusations. And those were the sticking points. They were the points that kept jabbing me with their dull blades. Those were the points I couldn't automatically dismiss and which tainted my feelings towards Knight. Basically, his refusal to even listen to me, after I risked my life for him, was the crux of the whole matter.
"So you don't see where I'm coming from at all?" Knight asked, rather astutely.
I nodded quickly, almost wondering if he could som
ehow read my thoughts as they occurred to me. As a Loki, Knight had numerous abilities and it seemed the longer I got to know him, the more he surprised me with them. "Yes, I do, Knight," I started, exhaling a heavy sigh of despondency. "Of course I see your point of view; but it doesn't change my feeling that the whole course of our ... friendship was all initially based on a complete lie."
"A lie?" he repeated, his voice simmering with anger. He speared me with his beautiful blue eyes before returning his icy glare back to the road.
"If I'd known the true circumstances regarding your reasons for coming to Splendor, I never would have allowed things to progress as far as they did." One of those reasons was him getting kicked out of the Netherworld because he refused to work for my father. In coming to Splendor, he'd intended to track me down and engineer a surprise attack on my father, using me as his vehicle. Yep, Knight had been completely convinced that I was in cahoots with good ol' Dad.
He clenched his jaw and I could see his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that had I known all along you were using me as a vehicle in some sort of vendetta against my father, I would never have trusted you. Furthermore, I never would have been your ... friend." I was quiet for a few seconds as I re-contemplated it. "Knight, you were gunning for me from the moment you met me. That's not exactly the ideal foundation for real friendship."
"Stop referring to what we had as a friendship," he ground out, glaring at me. "You are more than aware that we were much more than friends."
At his words, I felt myself flush. Yes, I was more than aware what existed between Knight and me was too hot to touch. That was why I purposely labeled it a "friendship," if only as an attempt to cool my own feelings, which were, even now, heating up. One thing I could say for Knight: the man was sexy with a capital S. Even after everything that happened between us, I couldn't help my irresistible attraction to him. It really stuck in my craw.
"Well, whatever it was, it's done now," I snapped back at him and immediately regretted the words because they sounded so final, so exacting, and they just didn't feel right.
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