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Hudson wakes up from a nap in the middle of the painting, and I expect him to argue with me about the right shade of black again.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he just watches me with unfathomable eyes…and an oddly gentle look on his face.
When it’s finally complete, when I’m finally convinced I’ve done the picture in my mind justice, I put down the paintbrushes. And nearly weep with the relief that comes from lowering my arms.
I stretch out all the kinks, then close my eyes to give my tired brain a break. But when I finally open them, it’s to find Hudson looking straight at me.
“So you remember?” he asks in a tone so tentative that I can’t believe it even came from him.
“No.” I glance back at the painting, my stomach clenching a little at the idea that I might have finally remembered something…even if I can’t identify it yet. Even if it’s just my subconscious poking at me, trying to tell me something. Trying to get me to do what I so desperately want to do—remember. “Do you recognize it?”
“It’s impossible.” Hudson shakes his head as if to clear it. “You couldn’t possibly have painted this if you don’t remember. Not this accurately. Not this perfectly.”
“I felt it,” I tell him, struggling to find a description that will make sense to both of us. “I don’t know how else to describe it. From the moment I’ve been back, this place has been building in my head until I couldn’t not paint it. From the moment I picked up my paintbrush, it was the only thing that felt right.”
I don’t say anything else—there’s nothing else for me to say—and for long seconds, neither does Hudson. Eventually, though, he inclines his head and says, “It’s perfect.”
“You know where it is.” It’s not a question, even though my voice is quieter than his.
“Yes,” he answers.
My breath catches in my chest, my throat. Finally, I’ll know something. Finally, I’ll have one memory to hold on to. It’s not much, but it’s more than I had when I woke up this morning. More than I had when I brushed my teeth or took a shower or picked up my favorite Pop-Tarts in the cafeteria.
But the seconds tick by, and still Hudson doesn’t say anything until, finally, I feel like I can’t take it anymore. Until I feel like even my skin doesn’t fit.
“Are you going to tell me?” I demand, after time has passed and done nothing to alleviate the nerves.
Another silence, this one even longer than the one that came before it. “It’s my lair,” he answers, and there’s a lifetime in those three words.
89
Bend Till You Break
“Don’t be nervous,” Jaxon tells me several hours later as I fiddle with my uniform tie for what feels like the hundredth time. But I can’t help it. My stomach’s been churning since Macy told me about the assembly this morning. That feeling only doubled when Hudson told me I’d painted his lair from memory, until right here, right now, I feel like exploding.
“Be very nervous,” Hudson tells me from his spot lounging against the door. “In fact, maybe you should just call in sick.”
Jaxon’s phone rings—his mom is calling—and he walks into his bedroom to answer it.
“I think you’re the one who’s nervous,” I answer as soon as Jaxon is out of earshot.
“Umm, yeah. Because, you know, at least two people in that room want to kill you. Probably more.” Hudson pauses and thinks. “Yeah, definitely more.”
“Well then, it’s sad for them, isn’t it, that I have no intention of dying today. Or anytime soon.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” he mutters.
“You need to be a little more positive, you know that?” I’m so annoyed that I say this louder than I intend as Jaxon strides back over to me.
“What did I do?” Jaxon asks, looking very confused.
“That wasn’t to you,” I explain. “That was to your brother.”
“Oh.” Jaxon rears back, like he forgot Hudson exists. Or like he can’t believe I might be talking to both of them at the same time. Like I haven’t done that every day since I made it back to my human form or anything.
“What’s he saying?”
“That it’s a bad idea to go to this assembly. But he said it about the last one, too, so I don’t have a lot of faith in his opinion. Besides, how else are we going to get the bloodstone?”
“There are eight of you,” Hudson tells me testily. “You could let any one of the other seven pick it up.”
“And let Cyrus know I’m afraid of him?” I shake my head at Hudson. “I don’t think so.”
“You should be afraid of him. And even if you’re not, you should act like you are. Anything else will just piss him off.”
“Apparently everything is going to piss him off.” I put both my hands on my hips. “So why does it matter what I do?”
“You’re right, it probably doesn’t. Which is another reason why you shouldn’t go!” Hudson practically growls with aggravation.
“Why don’t you go visit someone else for a while? Bring your doom and gloom there?” I make an obnoxious face. “Oh wait, you can’t. That’s why we need to get the stone.”
He arches a brow. “You know that joke was old the first time you told it, right?”
“Yeah, well, you—”
“Not to interrupt what I’m sure is a scintillating conversation,” Jaxon says so coolly that I feel the chill in my bones, “but I thought maybe you might like to talk to me instead of my brother. I mean, since you’re actually in my room.”
Of course. Because what I need today is for both the Vega brothers to freak out on me, even if it is for different reasons.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have to freak out if you would take your own safety a little more seriously,” Hudson tells me. “I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.”
I didn’t ask you to help me! I answer in my head so Jaxon doesn’t get upset.
“Maybe you should,” he shoots back.
“Seriously?” Jaxon says. “You can’t stop talking to him for two seconds? I’m trying to have a conversation with you here.”
“Of course I can. I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath, blow it out slowly. “What do you want to talk about, Jaxon?”
“Has he always been this whiny?” Hudson demands. “Honestly, I don’t know how you stand it.”
“Stop,” I tell him and intentionally give him my back, determined not to engage with him any more right now.
But he’s not having it. He walks around Jaxon so I’m facing both brothers now. “I’m only trying to be helpful, Grace. I know better than most just how spoiled Jaxon can be.”
He’s not spoiled. I jump in to defend Jaxon instantly and then realize, almost as quickly, that I’ve just been totally played. Hudson was trying to get a rise out of me. You’re kind of a jackass. You know that, right?
“Know it?” He looks down his nose at me in a kind of snooty, kind of playful manner. “I pride myself on it.”
Yeah, but—
“So.” Jaxon looks really nervous. “What do you think?”
“About what?” I ask before I can think better of it.
“You weren’t listening?” He looks vaguely homicidal. “You didn’t hear anything I said?”
“I did. I just—”
He sighs disgustedly. “What I said was that there’s another way to get Hudson out of your head. Besides the spell with the five artifacts.”
“Seriously? And you’re just bringing this up now?” I grab on to his hand. “What is it?”
“It’s fairly drastic—”
“Yeah, because going up against something called the Unkillable Beast isn’t drastic at all,” I answer, totally deadpan. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I mean, we already have all four of the necessary—”
“Five,” Jaxon growls. “We need five items. There’s no way we’re bringing him back if he’s not human. No way.”
I think back to what the Bloodletter said, to what everyone has said about Hudson—except Hudson. Every time I start to think that maybe he’s not so bad, I force myself to remember what it felt like to be standing in that assembly with him and be unable to move. “Okay, okay. I know you’re right about the whole power thing. So what is this other way?”
Jaxon looks a little sick, and this time he’s the one taking the deep breath. Which makes my stomach plummet.
“What is it?” I ask, suddenly a lot more frightened than I was just a minute ago.
“We could break the mating bond.”
The words fall like a nuclear bomb between us, the shock and pain of them radiating through me in a way nothing ever has in my whole life—even my parents’ deaths.
“I don’t— I can’t—”
“Holy shit. Exactly how much does my brother hate me?” Hudson whispers.
I take a moment to answer Hudson and…also try to figure out how to breathe. Seriously? That’s what you’re asking now? I would assume a lot, since he, you know, killed you.
“Killing is pretty normal in our world. Trying to break a mating bond? That’s unheard of. Mainly because it’s literally impossible. Trust me, if it were possible, my mom would have definitely divorced her jackass mate.” Hudson starts to pace. “This must be some scary-as-shit magic if it can sever a mating bond.”
Wow. Okay, then.
I press a hand to my stomach, still trying to absorb the blow of Jaxon’s words. And worse, the fact that he brought this up at all.
“So…” I have a million things I want to ask but no idea how to ask them. So I start with the most basic. “You don’t want to be mated to me anymore?”