We made a pact.
Their vengeance is mine. Mine is theirs.
If we can’t find the Ghosts, if we can’t get Gabriel to confess and give up their names, then we agreed to kill him together.
Gabriel’s voice wrenches me back to the present. “I’m glad you came to see me.”
“It’s about Santos—” I begin, eager to get this shit show on the road.
“Yes.” He waves a hand to one of the armchairs. “Please, sit.”
My skin crawls at the thought of being closer to him.
Coward.
I take the seat he offers and risk another glance around his room. With my back to it I can’t see much, but at least I have a good view of the bedroom area from here. His bed looks roughly made. Did he just draw the sheets up and plump the pillows?
Was he sleeping before he decided to turn on his laptop? Or has he not tidied since he woke up this morning?
Perhaps he never went to sleep.
I’d love to know what happened here last night. What he and Trinity spoke about. What he said to turn her against us.
Or had we done that ourselves?
“I know this would have been discussed at length during your seminal training, but after last night, I feel you may need a refresher.”
I frown up at Gabriel. “About what?” And then add a reluctant, “Father.”
“Celibacy.”
I look away, my lips writhing in an attempt to smile. I transform my bemusement into confusion so that when he turns to face me, he’ll see nothing suspicious. “I don’t follow.”
Gabriel’s face is anything but warm and kind. There’s a hardness to his mouth, a chill in his eyes.
There he is.
Is our Guardian coming out to play?
I slide my hands along the arms of the chair and sink my fingertips into the cushion.
We stare at each other until he breaks the frigid silence. “When did you and Cassius meet?”
My eyelashes flutter before I can widen my eyes in surprise. I don’t even have to fake it.
“When he enrolled?” I grimace inwardly when I hear my words come out as a question and not a statement.
Gabriel’s mouth curls up at the edges. “This is a safe place, child.”
A safe place?
My fingers dig deeper, and I let them. It’s either that or they’ll be digging into his fucking throat.
“What is it that you’re insinuating—?”
He lets out a soft huff of a laugh, a sad smile touching his mouth. “God sees everything.” He lifts his hands for all the world like he’s preaching a sermon. “I see everything.”
Cold shock flashes through me. I’m on my feet, hands balled in fists. Gabriel doesn’t seem surprised by the sudden vehemence in my voice when I say, “And what is it that you see, Father?”
He steps closer, until there’s barely a foot between us.
“I see a lonely young man who turned to a friend for comfort.”
His hand lands on my shoulder, but I dip away from him and stumble back. My jaw clenches so hard, I don’t think I could have spoken if I tried.
“It’s something I’ve seen a hundred times, if not more. And while it’s perfectly understandable, it’s still a sin.”
Is he talking about the basement? Back then we only had each other. Where else could we have found comfort but in each other’s arms? There was nothing wrong with it.
There is nothing wrong with it.
Nothing.
Gabriel follows me, face neutral but his cast with deep shadows.
Cunning, shrewd, cautious.
So careful not to reveal anything.
“I know you, Zachary.”
And there it is, bare and naked. He knows me. Gabriel’s known about us all along.
“Then you know I’ve known you for a long time too,” I growl, no longer bothering to disguise any element of my true self. “So why do we keep playing these childish games?”
Suddenly, there’s hesitation in Gabriel’s eyes. And when I step closer, it’s his turn to step back.
Dancing with each other.
Parrying. Attacking.
Like we’ve practiced this altercation in our minds for years.
I know I have. Why wouldn’t he?
They say strangling is an act of passion. I can’t agree more. I’m in love with the thought of snuffing out the Guardian’s life with my bare fucking hands. So much so, my fingers itch to be around his throat.
He lifts his chin, his gaze wavering before his mouth sets in a hard line. “You don’t know anything, child. You’re dealing with malevolent forces you can’t begin to understand.”
Too fast, he grabs me. We’re against each other but with bodies bristling—repelling each other like same-pole magnets.
“I know exactly what I’m dealing with,” I grit out as I scour his eyes for the truth. For his genuine self. But before I can find anything, he grabs the back of my neck and digs his fingers into my flesh.
A shudder courses through me, and I hate myself in that moment more than I ever have before.
I used to think I was a sadomasochist. That I enjoyed both inflicting and receiving pain.
But that’s not the case.
I simply endure pain in return for others allowing me to inflict it on them.
His hard grip rouses a sexual tension in me—not because I enjoy the pain he inflicts, but because I know that soon—so much sooner than I’d thought—he’ll be at my mercy.
A mercy his Ghosts eradicated from me years ago.
“Don’t act like you hate me,” Gabriel murmurs. “I am you. And you are me.”
“I’m nothing like you!” I yell. I fist his t-shirt in my hand. “I’ll never be like you!”
He tsks me as he searches my face, a fond smile stretching his mouth. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, child.” He licks his lips, and on instinct I lick mine. “You can only hate yourself for so long. Then there’s nothing left to do but forgive.”
I should have seen it coming, but I’m so wrapped up in my own hateful thoughts that his mouth is against mine before I can push him away.
Though that contact is brief, the outrage of his unsolicited touch rips through me like an electro-magnetic blast.
“The fuck?” I stagger back from him, wiping my mouth with the back of a shaking hand. My disgust is mirrored on his face.
He tilts his head to the side and blinks slowly at me. “So you can fuck a man, but you can’t bear to kiss one?”
He walks up to me. I fall back with a warning growl he ignores.
“It might feel like less of a sin, but trust me, son, it’s not.”
My back hits the wall.
Gabriel stops a few feet away, sliding his hands behind his back.
“God has already condemned us both to hell.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Trinity
I should be in the laundry room doing chores, but with four days left till the end of term, I doubt anyone’s going to lay down the law on a rainy Monday afternoon.
So instead I’m in my room, considering sneaking into the shower room.
I feel dirty after what Zachary did to me.
How he made me feel.
And while there’s nothing I can do about my filthy mind, the least I can do is wash the feel of him off my body.