The Bloodletter and Jaxon walk back to the cage bars. Jaxon’s face looks extremely worried, and I suddenly have the urge to hug him, to tell him everything is going to be all right.
“You’re the one in the cage, and you want to ease his suffering. Point fucking made,” Hudson growls, but I ignore him, holding Jaxon’s gaze instead.
The Bloodletter interrupts. “You need to let me teach you how to build a wall so you can lock Hudson out. You have to put a barrier between the two of you, Grace. Hudson can’t be trusted.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” she asks. “Do you really? Because I don’t think you can fully understand until you know him. Until you see how he operates, up close and personal. You may not believe it, but the time will come when you want to empathize with him.”
“I would never—”
“Oh yes, you would. You will. But you can’t. You have to stay strong, to be on your guard at all times. No one in your world is more dangerous than Hudson. No one else can do what he can. He’ll tell you anything you need to hear, everything you want to hear. He’ll lie to you, he’ll trick you, and when you lower your guard, he’ll kill you. Or worse. He’ll kill everyone you love, just because he can.”
Hudson stops pacing, his face turning to stone as he waits for my reaction. Only his eyes are alive, a vivid, storm-tossed blue that delves into the very heart of me.
“I won’t let that happen. I swear,” I tell her, even as panic races through me. “How can I lock him out?”
“That’s what I want to show you,” she says. “If you’ll let me.”
“Of course I’ll let you. I thought that was the whole reason we were here—so you could teach me how to get rid of him. I just don’t understand why you felt like you needed to lock me up.” I turn to Jaxon. “Or why you thought it was okay to let her.”
He looks sick. “I didn’t—”
“He doesn’t have a choice. And neither do you. It’s bad enough that Hudson could take over your body. But now that he’s started talking to you, we have to find a way to create a partition between you and him before it’s too late. This cage will give us the freedom to do that, since he’s behind bars, too.”
I notice that she doesn’t mention that it protects anyone inside the cage from his power—namely me—but I don’t call her on it. Not when my stomach is doing a triple somersault in the worst possible way and I have bigger, more important things to question her about. “Too late?”
“Yes, too late,” she reiterates. “The longer we wait, the greater the chance that the next time he takes you over…” She pauses and glances at Jaxon before turning back to me. “The next time, you might not be able to find your way back.”
Her voice echoes ominously throughout the cavern, her warning hitting me like a wrecking ball. “That can’t really happen, can it?” I whisper through a throat tight with horror.
“Of course not!” Hudson starts pacing the room again. “I mean, seriously. Who would actually choose to spend their life as a Jaxon Vega fangirl?”
I ignore him.
“It’s absolutely possible,” the Bloodletter assures me. “And the longer he stays in you, the harder it’s going to be for you to get him out—especially if he decides he doesn’t want to go.”
Hudson runs a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the longer, wavy strands on top. “Believe me, that will not be a problem, Grace. I want out of you at least as much as you want me out.”
“What happens if he decides to stay?” I ask. “I mean, how does it happen?”
The Bloodletter studies me for several seconds, as if weighing how much she wants to say. “First, he’ll start to control you more often—and for longer periods of time. When he lets you go, it’ll be harder for you to remember who you are, harder to fit back into your everyday life, until it will seem easier to just let him take over. Until one day you just give up completely.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Grace. You have to trust me.” Hudson sounds almost as frantic as I feel. “Don’t build the wall. Don’t let her lock me up.”
I turn and stare into Hudson’s eyes. He’s stopped pacing now, and we both just hold the other’s gaze for what seems like minutes. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but as he’s proven, he can hear every one of my thoughts. I wish I could trust you, but you know that’s impossible.
His shoulders slump, but he nods. “I know.” He must think the words this time, because his lips don’t move, yet I hear each one like a gunshot.
“Don’t listen to him,” Jaxon tells me urgently. “Whatever he’s saying to you is a lie. You can’t trust Hudson. You can’t—” He breaks off all of a sudden, his eyes wide with shock as he presses a hand to his chest.
“Stop him, Grace.” The Bloodletter’s voice slices like a lash.
“Stop what?” I demand as Jaxon stumbles forward a few steps before falling to his knees.
“You’re killing him,” she answers hoarsely, and that’s when I realize my hand is outstretched toward Jaxon, power like I’ve never felt before racing through my body.
I gasp, drop my hand. But Jaxon continues to clutch at his chest.
“Stop it!” I yell at Hudson. And when that doesn’t work, I beg. “Please stop! Don’t hurt him. Please don’t make me hurt him.”
And just like that, the flow of power evaporates.
“Jaxon?” I whisper as he slowly drops his hands back to his sides. “Are you all right?”
“You’re a coward,” he answers, looking at me with such contempt that it bruises something deep inside me. At least until I realize it’s Hudson he’s talking to, not me. “Hiding inside a girl who doesn’t even understand her own power yet, using her to do your dirty work. You’re pathetic.”
“Fuck you!” Hudson snarls, and he sounds like a totally different person—one more than capable of doing all the terrible things Jaxon once told me he did. “You don’t know anything about me!”
I don’t repeat what he said to Jaxon. In fact, after what he just used me to do, I refuse to acknowledge him at all.
“How did he get through the cage?” Jaxon demands as he turns on the Bloodletter. “You said we had to put Grace in the cage to neutralize his powers. How did he get through?”
“I’m not sure, though I would imagine it has something to do with the mating bond. Even magic this strong”—she gestures to the bars between us—“can’t neutralize the bond completely. He must have found a way to use it to reach you.”