“We knew we had to keep you, all of us, safe from this super-Hunter assassin team and it seemed like an ideal time to take Cole out,” Sebastian adds quietly, asserting his point that it was for the good of the team. “But we should have told you.”
I flop back into my chair now and sigh. “Fine, I get it and see your point about Cole. But as far as I am concerned, this never happens again, on this scale, without my say-so. No matter the threat, none of you have the right to make decisions like this on my behalf. Not even you.” I point to CK.
“I know,” he says with a small smile. “Your show.”
I look again at Cole, who has relaxed slightly but tenses up again as my eyes meet his. “I will talk to you later. I need a few minutes,” I say to him but effectively dismissing them all. They all nod and back out and I spin in my chair to stare out of the window. I can’t believe them, the sneaky fuckers. Disappearing and killing like that. I should have their heads for this. But I can’t argue that firstly, Cole needed to go and that regardless of my opinions, it should have been me that took him. And secondly, that the Assassins needed to be dealt with. I wonder briefly if Cade knew what they were up to? He had better not for his own sake.
“Dissension in the ranks? Never a good sign of a great leader,” Fake Lance says from behind me.
I spin around in my chair again to face him. I have lost all of my fear of this creature and all I want now is to see him dead. In whatever manner possible.
“Fake Lance,” I say. “How long have you been creeping about?”
“Long enough to see you can’t control your little group. Or is it perhaps that you can, but don’t wish to?”
“Probably the last one,” I admit, and he delights at my honesty.
“You are so afraid of your own Power. It would be quite amusing if it weren’t so tragic.”
“Tragic? Yeah, you are probably right. Tell me something. You have all of Lance’s memories, right?”
He nods at me carefully, wondering what I am getting at.
“Can you explain to me, in all honesty, why he did what he did to me?”
He looks taken aback. “You want to know why he took you and tortured you? Don’t you already know?”
“Not really, no.”
“Hmmmmm,” he draws it out as he taps his chin. “He loved you,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“He wasn’t capable of it,” I scoff.
“Yes, he was. He loved carefully but fiercely. When your sire turned him, he enjoyed a cruel streak to be sure, but he became what he was because of the way your sire showed him. He turned him into a diabolical fiend who, although loyal, became unsure of his place in Constantine’s world. More so after you were turned. He craved you, needed you, watched you from afar. For over a century he watched you become everything he wanted. A vicious creature that could match his own cruelty.”
I gulp but stay silent, wanting him to continue. He starts to pace, getting into his story now. “Eloise went to him and goaded him. Told him how your sire only wanted you and that he was no longer required. Told him he shoul
d do something about it if he ever wanted his relationship with Constantine to be the way it was. He waited until the day your sire came for you. He knew he would come and that you would let him. He also knew you wouldn’t return with him. Once Constantine was gone, he made his move on you, knowing that you were ripe for the picking. He thought you would love him. If he could just get you to go back to his castle with him. Unfortunately, you needed a little persuasion and he was terrified of losing you so he locked you up in the tower room, where you couldn’t escape. It wasn’t his plan. Not his original plan, anyway, but as you got weaker and weaker, he thought you would come around once he scattered affection on you and took it away, only to give it back to you. But your will was strong and although he persevered, he knew he would never win you.”
“How…how long was I in the tower?” I ask, needing to know, as time lost all meaning after the first few weeks.
“Nine years. He was so sure you would eventually tell him you loved him, he kept you in there for nine years. That is eight and a half years longer than anyone else ever made it,” he says as if I should be grateful. “But what you didn’t get, what you didn’t understand, was that he needed you to show him how to love you. He didn’t know. You were different, special. He was relying on you to show him and you failed, and he eventually became so frustrated with you that he could no longer stand you being so close to him. He lost his mind, he was so crazed by your refusal to accept him, that he just flipped.”
I blink at him. “Are you saying that he wasn’t always a crazy arse lunatic?” I ask.
“No, he was quite sane. Cruel and somewhat evil behind closed doors, yes, but he was a perfectly acceptable member of society. Your sire wouldn’t have turned him had he been anything but. Such a perfectionist,” he tuts. “So, as you see, it was you, my dear, that broke him. All you had to do was love him.”
“Broke him? Broke him? You know what he did to me.” I stand up and stride forward to where he is standing in the corner.
“Yes, indeed. He broke you too. Shattered you into tiny little pieces. It is a shame, really. You probably would have made for a great couple.”
Gah! This thing had better be fucking joking. I stare at him as he regards me quietly and I think back to the Lance that the other world still harbors. They said he was great and wonderful and a perfect match for Cassis. She said she loved him, and they were compatible. Is it true? Was it me that broke him?
“You have caused so much destruction in your lifetime. I am surprised you find it so easy to judge the choices of those you love,” he says casually, interrupting my thoughts.
“You know nothing of that,” I snap at him and he shrugs. I look at him again now with new eyes. Standing there, looking like Lance. There is every chance that he is lying to me but somehow, I get that he isn’t. He wants to talk, to converse, to have intellectual stimulus. He has been stuck in the Spirit Realms for eons with nothing to do but gain power and plot his revenge. I take full advantage of this and ask him, “What do you really look like? The whole Lance thing doesn’t scare me anymore. It’s kind of pointless.” I put my hands on my hips in a show of nonchalance, but my hand is ready to draw my sword should I need to.
He laughs and says, “Yes, I feared my revelations might cause such a reaction in you.” He shimmers and then stands in front of me looking like no one I know. No one I have feared or loved and lost. I step forward but bounce back off the damn magickal barrier as I peer at him. “Nice,” I say. “You should keep it.”