Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (19 page)

An ugly frown marred her delicate face. “I hate this.”

“I do, too. But Ian volunteered and I trust him. He wanted to do this on his own and I’m not going to discard the import of that.”

“Are you sure it’s about friendship?” Sharp eyes narrowed. “Or is it about the governorship?”

“What are you talking about?“

“Julian. You ordered him to stay in Haverleau and continue serving.” Her voice hardened. “Knowing how he felt about you. Knowing he made a stupid mistake.”

“What does that have to do with —”

“You’re doing what you always do. Positioning yourself to the best advantage. You manipulated Julian into staying because you know he’s your best chevalier.”

What she said rang with truth. Using information to win was what I knew.

But hearing her say it aloud still hurt like hell.

“You think I maneuvered Ian into it?” A clump of ice settled in my chest. “Deliberately put him in danger?”
 

“I think you’ll do whatever it takes to end this, Kendra.” Weary uneasiness darkened her eyes. “That’s what scares me.”

I’d expected skepticism and distrust from Council members, even a few grumblings from the chevaliers.

But I hadn’t expected it from my friends.
 

I carefully folded the hurt into a tiny, hard ball, then locked it away deep enough that I could almost convince myself it was gone.

“I’m sorry about your sister, Aub. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her.” My voice sounded like it came from a distance. “But I will do everything I can to protect Ian. I wouldn’t put him into this situation unless I thought he could do it.”

She stepped closer, her face taking on a gray cast. “You won’t change your mind?”

She didn’t understand the Shadow’s cataclysmic power.
 

If he wanted to, he could take her, Chloe, Cam, Tristan, Julian…everyone I cared about could be wiped out in the blink of an eye.

The only way to protect them was to end this war and right now, Ian and Scabbard were our best shot.

My throat ached. “No.”

Unwilling to bear her accusing gaze a second longer, I turned to go.

“Promise me.”

I halted.

“Promise me you won’t let anything happen to him.”

It was a moment that demanded a lie.
 

A simple white lie, one of the countless we told ourselves and others to get through life.
 

No, you didn’t hurt my feelings.

Of course I don’t like him. He’s just a friend.

I think that new hairstyle looks great!

I promise you, nothing will happen to him.

But I couldn’t.

I’d always believed war drove change by permanently altering what we’d envisioned as our future.

It carved out a new landscape, one imbued with death and horror, with the terrible awareness that monsters really do exist.

But maybe it wasn’t about what it added to our lives.

Maybe war’s real repercussions lay in how it stripped everything away until you had no choice but to stare at the unvarnished truth.

Straight, unblinking, without the perfumed cover of hope and bullshit.
 

“You know I can’t promise that.”

A long silence fell, the emptiness resonating with the knowledge that I’d lost something irreplaceable.
 

TEN

I tugged at the zipper and cursed under my breath.

Whoever designed this dress obviously delighted in torturing female bodies.

Frustrated, I dropped my arms and stared. The mirror reflected someone I wouldn’t have recognized a year ago.
 

A young woman, dressed in an elegant gown of forest green and gold, with bands of glittering jewels draped around her neck and wrists.

Who are you?

I touched the glass and traced the tip of the wave crest tattoo curving over my shoulder.

Ondine.

A soft sound came from behind me.

“Beautiful.”

I turned, the air catching in my lungs.

Tristan leaned against the open doorway, arms relaxed by his sides, eyes warm and liquid in the bedroom’s muted light.
 

After an incident with an asshole during my freshman year, I didn’t allow anyone to get too close.

Temporary amusement was good; anything more was not.

Initial attraction never lasted long.

In the shadows of a club, with blood pumping in sync to music and adrenaline burning bright, a guy would appear hot as hell, an indulgence to amp the excitement up another notch or two.

But as soon as we stepped out into the silent, garish light of reality, I’d realize he wasn’t much at all.

Beauty faded.

It was almost as if the mind was only capable of being surprised by it once.
 

But with Tristan it never did.

There were still moments, multiple times throughout the day, when I’d catch sight of him and feel a sweet shiver like the tip of a knife grazing my skin.

I’d improved my senses, but seeing him remained a constant surprise.

It had nothing to do with stealthy selkie skills.
 

It was him.

He came up behind me, enveloping my senses with his incredible smell.

His breath warmed the back of my neck. “Let me.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, he dragged the zipper up.
 

Every notch, every bump, drawn out with exquisite clarity.

He stopped just beneath my shoulder blades.

His knuckles grazed my bare skin and I inhaled sharply.

The zipper closed with a satisfying snap.

“There,” he murmured.

I turned in his arms. The heat in his eyes made me a little dizzy.

No, wait. That was just the dress.

“I can’t breathe in this thing.”
 

He brushed his lips across my forehead. “You look a little flushed.”

His mouth lingered against my skin. The dizziness amplified.
 

“Okay. Not helping,” I pulled back slightly.

A rough chuckle. “Are you ready?”

I nodded.

He locked up the balcony windows and I used the moment to take a long, appreciative look.
 

The tux encased his arms and thighs, fitted enough to delineate his corded muscles. He’d left the crisp, white shirt unbuttoned at the top, just enough to see the
pedallion
glinting against his golden skin.

Memories of the last Governor’s Ball flickered through my mind, a night when he’d been so close and so far and I’d read a prophecy that changed everything.

He caught me looking. “Everything okay?”

No.

I wanted to stay here in this beautiful room with the scent of the gardens and the distant crash of the ocean drifting through the open windows.
 

Yearning cleaved through my chest, a feeling trapped in the dusty heat of a Texan spring and the exhilaration of a beat-up bike jolting beneath me.
 

“Kendra?”

The moment was gone. “I wish we didn’t have to go.”

My voice was light. Empty.

Something flickered through his eyes. Uncertainty? Frustration? It was gone before I could identify it.

“Shall we?”

He extended his hand, but an invisible wall now existed where none had a moment ago.

I hated it and accepted it all at the same time.

I slipped my hand into his. Long, beautiful fingers callused and refined wrapped around mine.
 

And just like that, the wall vanished.

We only had a minute, the time it took to walk down the stairs to the first floor. But for those sixty seconds, we pretended we were a normal couple heading to the Governor’s Ball together.

He let go as we reached the front door. The illusion disappeared, the loss like the sharp ache of a dream dissipating in harsh daylight.

One moment to breathe; and in the next, he opened the door.

We had our masks ready for the world.

Yesterday’s dark clouds had rolled in, hanging over Haverleau like an ominous dark cloak.

The evening air, thick with moisture, clung to my skin. Tinkling glasses and muted conversations entwined with the cadences of a string quartet and wove through the lush night.

The Governing House ballroom sparkled with color and light. Glittering chandelier and champagne flutes complemented the ostentatious pageantry of the Redavi.

Guests nodded politely in our direction. I plastered a smile on my face.
 

“I told you,” Tristan said under his breath. “Less teeth.”

“I’m not good at this.”

“No one’s good at this.” He acknowledged a preening Marquisa.

“So how do you get through it?”

Last year, Tristan avoided drawing notice by staying close to the wall along with the gardinels and chevaliers.
 

He leaned in and whispered. “I think of what I can enjoy after it’s done.”

Goosebumps broke out on my skin. “I get a reward?”

He flashed a quick, beautiful smile full of suggestive promise and disappeared into the crowd.

A silver head of hair crossed a few feet away. Jeeves engaged with a trio of Marquisas, looking especially dapper in a slate gray tuxedo with black lapels.

Another familiar figure lounged at the bar. Julian, decked out in a custom tux, flirted with a young ondine near the edge of the dance floor. Combined with the intense charisma rolling off him, he was the epitome of an irresistible rake focused on his next target.

The poor girl looked like she didn’t know what hit her.

My stomach rumbled and I wove through the sea of sharks to the buffet table along the back wall. Sharp Redavi eyes, primed for gossip fodder, followed me closely, but no one approached.

I just needed to get through the next few hours. Then I could have my yummy reward.

Cam slouched uncomfortably behind the food-laden table, scowling. His finger was locked in a battle with his collar and bow tie.

“Your face is going to freeze like that.” I picked up a plate and grabbed a delicate, chocolate
petit fours
. “What are you doing here?”

I’d told him and the others that their presence wasn’t required. Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to torture?

He tugged at his collar again. “I’m not letting a bunch of Redavi keep me from enjoying myself,” he said miserably. “Besides, I need to talk to you.”

“Here?” I took a bite and a burst of sweet heaven flooded my mouth. “You could’ve stopped by the cottage later.”

He gestured toward the back door. “It was the only time I could grab you alone.”

His face remained blank, but I had the oddest feeling he was referring to a certain Warrior Prince.

Sighing, I reluctantly put down my plate and followed him into the empty east corridor. The door shut behind us, muting the music and conversation.
 

The last thing I needed was a lecture on my romantic life.

“Look, I don’t have time for this.” I rubbed my forehead. “In case you haven’t realized it, I’m holding everything together by a thread —“

“That’s why I’m here.” Cam leaned against the door, preventing anyone else from exiting. “Why aren’t you fighting?”

“What?”

“Why are you here while Ian is in New York?”

Our covert mission was turning out to be not very covert.

Anger stirred. Was Aubrey trying to turn everyone against me?

“Don’t start. You’ve never given Ian any credit —“

“He’s a nix.” Cam frowned. “You’re a chevalier. You know better. I’m pleasant with Ian because he’s with Aub, but a leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“Says the person still judging him after everything he’s done for us.”
 

He ignored the jibe. “And what about Chloe?” He motioned at my dress. “She picked that out for you, right? Where is she?”

Hurt twisted in my chest. I swallowed. ”Low blow, Cam.”

“What did you expect would happen? You let her father go.”

“No, I didn’t —“

“Kendra,” he said wearily. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

“I was trying to save your ass, you idiot! You would’ve broken your neck plunging into that water.”

“You should have a team out there right now, searching for Oliver,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Instead, you’re hoping this op with Ian works because it’ll give you something to take to the Council. You plan on using that, along with Oliver’s disappearance, to gain political leverage. Did I get it right?”

He was doing a hell of a job making me feel like the smallest person in the world.

“We can’t waste resources,” I argued. “Do you want another Merbais to happen? How am I going to explain to a kid who loses his family in an attack that I pulled chevaliers to search for my friend’s —”

“Chloe lost her father!” Anger roughened his voice. “Does that register in any way? She lost her parents. She’s alone, Kendra, because she had the guts to be your friend.”

“I’m doing my best —“

“No, you’re not. She stood by you when you needed it and you’re not doing the same. You’re her fucking friend. You should be out there trying to get Oliver back, not here dressed in diamonds with these idiots.”

Raw frustration raked my nerve endings. “My job is to end this war.”

“Exactly.” Cam’s expression turned flat. “You’ve chosen the war over us, Kendra. You’ve chosen being a Governor over being a friend.”

“It’s not like that —“

“You sure? Because from where we’re standing the view is different.” He opened the door. “Have a nice night, Governor.”

The door closed behind him.

Fury erupted.

I slammed my fist against the wall. Pain ricocheted up my arm and I rested my forehead against my throbbing wrist.

I wanted to rip the jewelry off my neck, tear this constricting dress off, and scream.

The same sense of powerlessness I’d felt at the Training Center snaked up my spine.
 

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

I remembered the child hidden behind the curtain in Merbais, recalled the stench of death saturating the town.

Bastien’s smirk on Fontesceau’s shore.