“What the hell are you talking about?” Jaxon asks. His tone grows harder, more defensive. I stand there, poised, and so ready to get out of here, get away from his family and all their drama.
Scarlett’s eyes slide back over to her brother, her gaze going even darker. “You told Mom you’re transitioning out. That you’re taking a step back. But that doesn’t mean there’s any less work. Guess who she’s making step up to take over for you?”
Jaxon’s brows furrow and he shakes his head. “No,” he says, though it’s obvious it’s himself he’s trying to convince. “She wouldn’t. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Scarlett raises one eyebrow at him. “Well, she is. She said I’ll start your runs in three weeks. Until then, I’m taking hand-to-hand combat classes, and she’s making me go to the gun range every day.”
This time, it’s me who breathes out the curse. Scarlett is maybe five foot five tall, but she can’t weigh more than 130 pounds. Looking between her and Jaxon, there is no comparison.
“Mom said this?” Jaxon demands.
Scarlett stares off into the crowd, and nods.
Jaxon scrubs a hand over his face as another curse slips between his lips. “Just…do what she says for the next two weeks. I’ll fix this.”
“How, Jaxon?” Scarlett says with annoyed doubt. “You made it very clear that you’re stepping out on the family. Someone has to do it, and you’ve made it very obvious it’s not going to be you, anymore.”
And cold realization drops into my stomach. I wonder if Jaxon has considered the fact that he’s also helping Aaron get out. Now the remaining children are going from six, to four.
Jaxon looks over, pinning Scarlett with a hard look. “I said I’ll fix this.”
She simply huffs a disgusted, annoyed laugh. She shakes her head, and deliberately looks away from him.
Without another word, Jaxon gets up from the table and scans the crowd.
There. Vivian stands across the ballroom, smiling that empty smile and laughing that fake laugh with a group of others.
Jaxon looks like a lion stalking prey as he beelines through the crowded ballroom. I scramble after him. My heart rate picks up, and my brain starts running through all the outcomes this night might have.
“Jaxon,” I breathe as I catch up to him and grab his arm. “We need to get out of here. The Kindred are on their way. I can’t—”
“Just give me a few minutes,” he growls. His expression is filled with anger and disdain. “I need to deal with my family, Serena.”
My blood begins to turn cold with every step we take across the ballroom.
Vivian knows what she’s doing.
She knows exactly how to get to Jaxon. How to make him feel guilty. How to make him question his decisions.
Put one of his younger siblings in harm’s way because of him. When already, one of them died on his watch.
“I need to talk to you.” Jaxon barely calms his voice as he grabs Vivian by the arm and pulls her away from the crowd. She stumbles, her expression surprised. But Jaxon just glares ahead, his gaze getting darker by the moment.
“Jaxon,” Vivian hisses as he drags her along. “What are you doing?”
Jaxon practically shoves her into the corner, where the space is empty. “What the hell are you doing?” he growls back, stepping into her personal space.
Even from here, I can see the heat rising from his shoulders.
“I will patiently ask you to clarify your meaning,” Vivian says. And the cold look in her eyes is nearly enough to freeze me in my place. Her eyes are so dark, so calculating.
Jaxon takes one step forward, and I see one crack of light splinter up the back of his forearm. “I’m talking about the fact that you’re forcing Scarlett, an eighteen-year-old girl, into taking over my duties. Are you trying to bury her in an early grave like AJ?”
Vivian’s eyes narrow and she takes a step forward into Jaxon. Another fissure opens on his palm.
I step behind Jaxon. To most, it might look like I’m trying to hide from Vivian behind him. In reality, I’m trying to keep anyone from seeing his true form threatening to burst out.
“And who failed to protect AJ?” Vivian says coolly. “You are the best of my children, Jaxon, save Blake, and that is only because he is willing to do whatever it takes. You should have been able to guide him and protect him.”
Jaxon’s mouth closes. His shoulders tense.
I can only imagine how much this hurts him.
Jaxon has carried the guilt of his brother’s death on his shoulders since the moment it happened.
“But this is the family business,” Vivian says as she stands there and looks up into her son’s eyes. “Life must go on, even if you want out. Scarlett is a capable girl. But whatever might befall her, it is on you and your choices, son.”
Another crack shoots up Jaxon’s forearm and I can feel the heat of him from here.
“Jaxon, we have to go,” I say softly as I step forward and place my hands on his shoulders. “We can’t stay here. We can fix this later.”
Vivian’s eyes narrow as they shift over to me.
Jaxon tried. He tried to keep me out of this, to steer the blame away from me.
But it’s so obvious and clear. Vivian does blame me. And she always will.
And she will punish her son for it.
“I will deal with you later,” Jaxon says. And I’ve never heard his voice this low or this rough. He’s trembling under my touch and I can feel how he’s losing control.
Suddenly, he yanks away and storms straight out the doors.
I look back at Vivian. For three whole seconds, we stand there, staring at each other.
“You’re trying to hurt him,” I say as I stand straight and lift my chin slightly. “And I’m going to make you regret that.”
I don’t give her the chance to respond. I turn and follow after Jaxon.
I spot him down the hall, with Agents Sybil and Azrael hanging behind, watching him. I pick up my speed, jogging down the hall in my white heels.
Jaxon doesn’t say a thing when I reach his side. He simply stalks forward, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. We’ve already said what needs to be said.
So, without another word, we both go to the elevator and push the down button. Sybil and Azrael don’t bother hanging back anymore. They climb in with us, hitting the button for the second-floor parking garage after I hit the third.
It’s a silent ride down. The air is filled with tension and anger and thoughts for the future.
The elevator dings when we reach the third level and the both of us step out, leaving the others to go down one more level.
Without a word, Jaxon and I cross to the motorcycles waiting side by side. Jaxon reaches into his pocket and pulls my keys out and tosses them to me. I catch them easily and pull my helmet on.
This is certainly not the ideal outfit to ride a motorcycle in. The dress is tight and long in the back. I have to twist the train of it up behind me and sit on it, leaving the vast majority of my thighs exposed. And the heels are another problem entirely.
But there isn’t time for a wardrobe change.
I straddle my bike and rev the engine to life.
“My bike needs gas,” Jaxon says over the purr of our engines. I look down at my own gage. I’m down to half a tank. I just nod to him.