Bind the Soul (9 page)

“
You
think? What the hell do you know? You’re not the one who protected the Sahar for days. And maybe you forgot, but
you’re
the one who gave it to me.”

“Piperel!” He gave her a silencing glare.

She glared back. The logistical differences between a human/haemon school and a humans-only school were minor, but for her, it was the difference between two distinct lives: one she wanted more than anything, and the other her worst nightmare. A human-only school was the first step toward a human-only life.

Quinn cleared his throat. “Considering the threats to your life and your inability to protect yourself, I think the wisest choice at this time is to remove you from the Consulate until the furor settles. You know why I’ve kept you out of school these last weeks.”

Of course she knew. Some daemons thought she had an idea of where the Sahar was, and her current school had no security to speak of. Westwood Academy, on the other hand, boasted the kind of topnotch security for its privileged students that outsiders told stories about—like the rumor that the school had professional snipers who picked off anyone dumb enough to wander the grounds at night.

She sucked in a deep breath, fighting for calm. “What about my apprenticeship? I can’t abandon it for three months. Is there a Consulate in Arlington I can transfer to as well?”

Quinn shuffled some papers on his desk. “We can look at your apprenticeship when you return.”

Ice trickled through her. “What do you mean ‘
look
at my apprenticeship’?”

“We don’t need to get into that now—”

“
Father
—”

“Piperel, there’s no need to get worked up—”

“No need?” Her voice shot up an octave. “You’re thinking of cancelling my apprenticeship, aren’t you?”

He folded his hands on the desktop. “I won’t deny I’ve been considering it since—”

“How can you even think that?” she cried, so horrified she could barely speak. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Piper—”

“This is all I’ve ever wanted to do. How can you take that away from me?”

“You—”

“All that stuff with the Stone—I survived it, didn’t I? I handled it. Why are you trying to ship me off to a human boarding school? You can’t do that!”

“Piper!” he barked. “Calm down.”

“Calm?” She shot to her feet. “I won’t calm down while you’re trying to ruin my life. You can’t punish me for saving the stupid Sahar. I protected it. I found out about the Gaians. I rescued Uncle Calder. I—”

“
Sit down.
”

She choked back her fury and dropped into her seat. Her hands shook. She balled them into fists.

“Where were you last night, Piper?” Quinn asked.

She glared at him. “That has nothing to do with this.”

“Doesn’t it?” he asked coolly. He took the paper he’d been reading when she’d entered his office and detached a photo from the page. Face expressionless, he slid it across the desk toward her. She cautiously picked it up and turned it over.

Her stomach plunged toward the floor.

It was a blurry shot of a quasi boxing ring. Two huge TVs and a game show wheel filled the space behind the ring. Several rows of spectators’ heads and waving arms obscured the shot, but the two people in the ring were painfully clear.

A girl was pinned against the corner post by a shirtless man, his muscles gleaming with a sheen of perspiration. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her hands fisted in his hair. Blood was smeared over her bare arms. The man gripped a handful of her auburn hair in one hand while his other was somewhere behind her.

Piper stared, trying hard to breathe. In the photo, her mouth was plastered against Ash’s. There was little doubt that her tongue was in his mouth.

She still remembered exactly how he’d tasted.

Panic ballooned inside her. Where had Quinn gotten this? Who had taken it? She swallowed hard. Her face was in profile and half covered by a mask. Ash’s face was mostly hidden, tilted away from the camera as he kissed her. He wasn’t recognizable, especially with his hair darkened to black.

She looked at her father. “That isn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me, Piperel,” he interrupted. “Your expression was all the proof I needed.”

She snapped her mouth shut on a curse. “I was going to say, that isn’t what it looks like.”

“So you weren’t participating in highly illegal daemon fights beneath the Styx nightclub? And you weren’t, for no reason I can fathom, exchanging saliva with that daemon?”

“I didn’t have a choice because—”

“Now do you want to tell me where you were last night?”

“I—”

“Reeking of alcohol and covered in scrapes and bruises. I don’t know what you were thinking.”

“I—”

“Your uncle and I always knew that daemons would have a poor influence on a teenage girl, but we thought we’d raised you to make better decisions. We made it absolutely clear: intimacy with daemons is unacceptable for Consuls—or Apprentice Consuls.” He sighed. “You obviously aren’t ready to cope with their influence, so—”

“It’s not like that,” she burst out. “I only fought at the Styx because the club owner had information on the Gaians’ whereabouts. I thought you were their prisoner. I was trying to save you! Are you punishing me for trying to save you?”

He closed his eye for a moment, then picked up the sheet of paper. “This letter came with the photo. It demands I remove five dangerous daemons from the Consulate’s blacklist. If I refuse, the sender will circulate the photo to all the Consulates under my jurisdiction.”

“They’re blackmailing you?” she whispered.

“I will, of course, refuse. In a week, this photo will be in the hands of Consuls all across the country. I’m sure you’re aware of how that will reflect on me, particularly after the scandal surrounding the lost Sahar.”

Horrified, she couldn’t speak. The photo alone wasn’t enough to lose Quinn his position, but on top of everything with the Stone?

“I was trying to save you,” she mumbled.

He laid the paper down and picked up a nearby folder. “When the semester is over, we will review your apprenticeship. Until then, you will attend Westwood Academy. Calder will drive you on Monday morning.”

He flipped the folder open and glanced up as though he were surprised to see her still sitting there. “You have today and tomorrow to pack, so don’t waste any time.”

She clenched her hand around the photo. With deliberate care, she rose to her feet and stepped around the chair. She stopped. Looked at the photo again. Remembered how strong she’d felt after beating the three daemon fighters. How she’d even managed to knock Ash off his feet. How proud she’d been of her skills.

Now she felt sick with shame. She felt like an embarrassing bit of garbage shoved in a bag and dumped on the curb to be taken away before the neighbors noticed.

She took a deep breath and said flatly, “I’ll be in my room packing. I’d prefer to be left alone for the rest of the evening while I . . . get my things.”

“Of course,” he agreed without looking up. “I will be leaving at seven for the gala.”

Unable to bring herself to utter anything pleasant to end their conversation, she walked out.

Uncle Calder waited for her in the hallway. His expression was anxious as he came up to her. He searched her face. “Piper—”

“Do you think he cares?” she asked. “About what I went through trying to save him? Protecting that damn Stone? Maybe it ended up being you and not him who I saved, and maybe I lost the Sahar in the end, but I still . . .”

“He knows, Piper,” Calder murmured. “He appreciates it. He really does.”

“You think so?” She stared blankly down the hall. “You know what my mom said? She told me she was proud of me. I don’t ever remember Father saying that. Not even once.”

“He loves you, Piper. He wants to protect you.”

She didn’t believe him. Couldn’t believe him. Maybe protecting her was a part of it, but he also wanted her out of the way. To get his embarrassing failure of a daughter out of sight so she couldn’t mess up his career anymore.

“I’m going to my room. I don’t want to be bothered.”

“Piper . . .”

Tears threatened at his obvious concern. She turned and looked into his eyes, at the open caring in them and the worried wrinkle between his brows. Her mouth trembled. Why couldn’t Calder have been her father? Why did she even care what Quinn thought at this point?

Calder opened his arms. She collapsed into his hug, shaking with sobs as all the hurt inflicted by her father overwhelmed her, worse than any injury from her Styx fights.

. . .

Piper stared into the mirror.

Her hair was done. Her arms ached from two hours of painstakingly curling and pinning locks into an elegantly messy twist at the back of her head, with long curls dangling artfully around her face. She’d dismantled an old necklace and woven the chain with its tiny clear crystals through the twist.

Her makeup was done. A dramatic dark outline with black eyeliner made her eyes pop, the smoky look completed with plum eye shadow to complement her green irises. Three coats of mascara made her eyelashes properly thick and dark, and a touch of blush and wine-red lipstick completed the look. Thankfully, she didn’t have any pimples to cover up. Even more thankfully, the makeup hid any sign that she’d been crying for an hour that afternoon.

Yes, from the neck up, she was ready. Her gaze dropped to her t-shirt and stained sweatpants and panic simmered in her belly. What would she wear? She had nothing.
Nothing
.

She went back to her bedroom and stared at the mess. Every article of clothing she owned was scattered around the room. Only three things waited on the bed for her decision: a short black dress, a dark gray pantsuit, and a sundress. She glared at the offending clothing. How could she not own a single fancy dress? She glanced at the clock beside her bed: 6:43. Miysis was picking her up in two minutes! Where had the last half hour gone?

She pulled her sweats down and worked her shirt off without touching her hair. Her black bra and panties were lacy and pretty—her only appropriate garments, pointless because no one would see them. Unless she had a repeat of her visit to the Styx. Grimacing, she pulled on the little black dress. It wasn’t nearly formal enough, but it was better than the pantsuit and way better than the sundress. She yanked on strappy black sandals and wrapped the silk ties halfway up her calves. Her only jewelry that wasn’t cheap or gaudy was a pair of diamond studs from her sixteenth birthday. And, of course, Lilith’s truth pendant. Best she could do.

Kneeling beside her bed, she pulled out the final piece of her outfit. The Glock 26 wasn’t the smallest handgun available, but it was compact enough that the thigh holster tucked neatly under the fluttery skirt of her dress. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than going unarmed.

She didn’t like guns. It was too easy to kill someone with a gun. Consuls weren’t supposed to kill people. Bladed weapons were way better for self-defense. With a gun, you either shot the person or you didn’t. With a dagger, you could hold them off, scratch them up, or outright stab them—non-fatally if you knew what you were doing. Darting back into the bathroom to make sure the outline of the gun didn’t show, she glanced at her pale face in the mirror and knew exactly what she’d do with the gun if Raum showed up again.

Trotting back into her room, she checked the time—6:54, damn it—and turned toward her window. Then she looked at her sandals. Maybe not.

She crept to her bedroom door and cracked it open. The hall was empty. She grabbed her little clutch purse and slipped out. Was she sneaking out of the Consulate a second night in a row? Yup. Too much to hope that Quinn and Calder wouldn’t notice. If she’d had any chance at all of talking her father out of Westwood Academy, she was about to blow it.

Holding her breath, she tiptoed down the stairs and into the foyer. Her heels hit the marble floor with a loud clack. Wincing, she slid to the front door in near silence and pulled it open. Twenty feet away, idling on the U-shaped drive, was a shiny, black car. She stepped onto the front stoop.

“Piper?”

Her heart jumped into her throat as she looked around. Quinn stood at the top of the stairs inside the Consulate. He looked striking in his black tuxedo, even with the white bandages on his head. As he stared, his expression morphed from confusion to disbelief to outrage.

“Piper!” he roared.

She bolted, arms flailing for balance as she ran for the waiting car. The back door opened. She caught a glimpse of Miysis before he moved back to make room for her.

“Piper, get back in here right now!”

She dove into the darkness of the car. Miysis reached across her and pulled the door closed as the car began moving. Piper glanced out the window in time to see Quinn running across the lawn after her, fear stamped across his face. Her insides squirmed with guilt. He couldn’t know who owned the black car and he couldn’t have seen Miysis in the shadowy interior. All he’d seen was his daughter, wearing a dress for the first time in years, sneaking out to a mysterious car with unknown occupants one night after he’d found out she was possibly participating in illegal activities. She hoped he didn’t think she’d just been picked up by a pimp.