D E L P H I N I U M

I wasn't sure whether it was Jaxon's blood-covered form, Hundsen's continued slights against Jake, or simply because of everything that had happened in the last two days, but then and there, I lost every ounce of control.

The entire roof caved in. I had no way of knowing if we were in the top story of a building or the bottom, but it didn't matter. I'd bring down the entire building if I had to.

It came crashing down around us, forming a barrier between the three of us and Hundsen's small army of soldiers. The holes in the ceiling revealed another level above us, another layer of ammunition I could send toward Hundsen's men if they were able to break through the walls I'd already created.

"I'll help him," I nodded toward Jaxon, not wanting to look at him in this state for too long. "You should find us a way out of here."

I didn't even wait around to see if Jake did what I asked. Dropping down toward Jaxon, I frantically inspected the damage Hundsen had done. I'd seen countless near-fatal injuries in my time as an assassin, but this was gory and horrifying to look at. It was one thing to slice through limbs of my enemies, but it was another to know it had happened to one of my closest friends.

First, I checked if he was breathing. Holding my hand over his mouth, I searched for even the barest of breaths. At first, it didn't come and I nearly screamed. But then his chest expanded slightly as he inhaled. He was still alive. His heart was beating weakly, but at least it hadn't stopped.

My next priority was getting the blood to stop flowing. I tore his shirt to shreds to use as a tourniquet and wound countless strips of fabric around the bleeding stump of his arm, nearly severed at the shoulder. Within mere seconds, the first round of bandages had become red so I tied more and more. It needed to stop or he'd bleed and bleed until he was dead. He couldn't die. I wouldn't let him die.

Jaxon's blood coated my hands. I didn't stop bandaging. His breathing might have been ragged, but at least it was still coming. There was still hope.

I felt both hot and cold at the same time, my movements desperate and shaky. I was no medic; I only knew what I'd learned from tending to my own injuries. But I had to save him. If I didn't...

I wiped the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand and blinked a few times. Everything was red. So red.

Finally, the bandages didn't stain immediately. The pressure was enough to cut off his cut artery. I let out a shaky sigh of relief. But he wasn't out of danger yet.

His head on my lap, I lightly slapped him. "Jaxon, wake up. You need to stay awake." His eyes didn't flutter. "Please...please wake up. You can't leave. Don't leave me."

And then suddenly I was barely sixteen again, watching as Imperium took my family away from me. I wasn't holding Jaxon, I was holding my mother's broken body, squeezing my father's limp hand, feeling the bite of his cold metal wedding ring on my fingers. Trying to wake them up and knowing they wouldn't. Screaming my throat raw for them and not getting any response. I was still on the floor, half sobbing-half yelling for my family not to leave me when Orion's men dragged me out of the house again. I'd never forget how the carpets were stained rust-red, how glassy their eyes were as they stared up at me. I saw them in my dreams every night, asking me why I'd done this to them.

"J-Jaxon," I called to him desperately, feeling like I might break. I fought the tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks. "Please..."

Under his eyelids, his eyes moved. Then he blinked groggily a few times, looking like he'd just risen from the dead. "Delphi..." His eyes were only half-open and threatening to roll back as he stared up at me.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me," I told him, giving him a smile that wasn't real, very aware of the fact that any of these moments could be his last.

As I brushed his sweat-soaked curls off his feverish forehead, he mumbled, "My...my arm..."

"I know...I know."

"Am I..." He licked his dry lips, "Dying?

"No. You're not. I won't let you. I will fight you if that happens."

"I'd still kick your ass." The words were faint, but it brought a small smile to my face.

"You might." I figured I'd let him have that, given the state he was in now.

Then his eyes did roll back and I nearly slapped him again to make him wake up. "Talk to me," he murmured, only a sliver of white showing beneath his eyelashes.

"Uhh..." I racked my brain for anything that would keep him alert and interested. "When I was a child, before Imperium, I was a little ballerina."

That brought a weak smile to his handsome face. "You? In a tutu?"

"Yeah. Even so, I loved it."

"Then I'm sorry...I never got to see you making a fool of yourself dancing ballet," he said between rough breaths.

"If you live through this, maybe you will."

He gave a wheezing laugh. The ghost of a smile was still on his face when Jake appeared above us. "What...took you so long?"

"A few soldiers decided to give me a hard time. But I found a way out." He gestured to a dark doorway, partially covered by the crumbled wall. "That leads outside."

I stared down at Jaxon for a few seconds, debating whether my sudden idea was worth a try. Then, my eyes narrowing at the ground, the slab of concrete he was rested on tore off the ground and floated with him on it. Jake and I shared a glance. "That...works. We need to leave before Hundsen breaks down those walls."

So I began to will the slab forward, praying that Jaxon wouldn't roll off and injure himself even worse. "Jake, Delphinium...if I die, you can have my inventions," Jaxon told us, eyes closed.

"Knowing you, you've probably rigged a device to explode in the faces of anyone who's not you," Jake said, leading the way.

"Just stand a few feet back...the first few seconds you step into my workshop."

"I'm not looking to have my face singed off."

"Maybe just your eyebrows."

After that, Jaxon gave another shuddering cough and didn't speak again. I simply hoped that we'd get him to the hospital in time; I couldn't bear to lose him too.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

I tapped my foot anxiously on the ground in the waiting room. It had been an hour since the nurses had frantically wheeled him into the emergency room and we hadn't gotten any news on his current state. I was desperate to hear how he was doing, but terrified to think that he might be taking his last breaths right now.

Jake sat one seat away from me, reading a hospital newspaper. I wasn't quite sure what to say to him after what had just happened at Hundsen's place—especially between us—but I felt like I needed to say something. My harsh words to him echoed in my ears.

"Ask me, Tesla." He didn't even move his gaze from the newspaper.

"What?"

"I know you want to ask me a question. So ask it."

I wasn't quite sure how to put it, so it came out bluntly. "Did you actually kill your father?"

"Yes." If it was even possible, his expression became colder and crueler at the mention of his father.

"Why? What...actually happened?"

He simply stared at me for a long time, probably debating whether or not to tell me. I kept calm, doubting that anything he could say would surprise me anymore.

"Trust goes both ways," I murmured, "But you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"You think I'm going to get teary-eyed over this?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." My tone was light, teasing, but his face darkened. After I said it, I realized how manipulative my statement was. My old habits sometimes returned.

"Yeah? Maybe this will show you how truly little I care."

"So tell me."

"I tricked my father into coming to our old lair alone. He thought that I'd brought him the head of one of our rivals but instead I had the doors locked from the outside and began to lower the temperature in the room. The cold doesn't affect me, but for him... He realized it too late and tried to talk me out of it. He almost begged. But I didn't listen. I stood and watched as his body turned cold and hard, saw the light flickered out of his face. Even though he could barely move, he died screaming at me to stop. It satisfied the monster within me to see."

He didn't falter, didn't break, didn't even show an ounce of emotion. He spoke with the same inflection and expression of someone delivering the evening news. I knew that it certainly wasn't characteristic of him to be somber or mournful of anything like this, but he was still talking about murdering his father. This was different than killing off Imperium agents or Hundsen's soldiers.

There had to be something else, some other reason he'd done this. Either he was lying or not telling the whole truth.

"Why would you go to such an extreme? What did he do?"

"You don't believe that I killed him for his spot as king of the Club?"

Eyes narrowing, I answered, "No. I'm not even sure if you're telling the truth or not."

"I'm not lying. Why do you think Hundsen hates me with such a burning passion? I killed his oldest friend, his best chance for riches and power. He was aware I didn't like him and knew that I'd eventually push him out when I took power. My father was a much safer bet for him."

I gave him a flat stare. "Why did you do it then? To take the opportunity from Hundsen?"

His words came slowly, like he wasn't sure that he should be telling me. "No, from the very beginning, my father was obsessed with making me the next leader of the Club, making me the next version of himself. It was his life's work, becoming one of the nation's most-feared crime lords. He adopted me so that I would carry on his legacy."

Then his eyes darkened. "But as I got older, I moved on to better and larger jobs. He saw what I could do and knew that I could do it better than he ever could. Our relation quickly turned from familial to competitive. He no longer saw me as a son to be groomed; I was one of his most fearsome rivals. He always put power before anything else, so he hatched a plan with several hired hands to have me killed and thrown into a river so that my body couldn't be identified. Of course, I found out about it and ended him the night before."

Oh God, I had no idea what to say to him now. His own father had turned against him and given him no choice but to kill him? No wonder he was so cold and dark now. It was probably all he'd seen as a child. "Were you close with him? Before?"

He scoffed. "No. I've never been one for emotional bonds."

I turned over what he'd just said in my mind. Jake's father had been obsessed with grooming him into a ruthless crime lord, the person he was now. I'd heard stories in the underworld. I knew how these things worked. And I could read between the lines of Jake's story.

"Would he...abuse you? Hurt you?"

He was silent for a second too long, and I had my answer. My hands itched for my blades, which I knew was foolish of me. But I didn't care. "If he was still out there, I would have found him and flayed him alive. I wouldn't stop until he was dead. You wouldn't even have to ask me to."

He was quiet. I was well aware that we'd slipped into dangerous territory. "He didn't realize it, but he was making me more powerful for the future. My father made me able to withstand almost anything." I had a sick feeling that I'd only scratched the surface of what had been done to him. He was acting like it was nothing, but I knew what his father had done had left deep, underlying scars. Even if he didn't show or acknowledge them.

I regarded him sadly, my head tilted to the side. "That's the same thing Orion would always say to me." I hated that we had that fact in common.

"My father wasn't Orion," he said flatly. "And I dealt with the problem. It's out of my mind now and has been for the two years he's been dead." But I wondered if that was the truth. He was getting defensive and shutting down.

Perhaps Hundsen was right. Maybe it was no wonder he'd turned out like this. You couldn't expect a child to be raised in darkness and blood and not grow to want it for themself. If he'd been abused and trained to kill as a mere child, then it wasn't surprising that it was what he was best at.

I knew he wouldn't tell me any more even if I'd asked. So I simply met his chilly eyes for a moment, not saying a word. A boy, beaten by a monstrous father into a sort of monster of his own. Now, a ruthless crime lord, maybe even worse than his father was. He'd evidently already surpassed him in accomplishments. Perhaps he had inadvertently become his father in some sick, twisted way.

I hadn't ever seen Jake express any emotion other than boredom or chilling anger, but I wondered what he felt deep down—if he felt anything at all. From the way he was shutting down, I could sense that this subject was maybe more sore than he'd let on. I certainly wouldn't bring up his mother now. Maybe not ever. I found that I didn't need to. Despite not having known any of this—I barely knew anything of his past, and yet I still...

I didn't let myself finish that thought.

His eyes were cold on mine, but I didn't want the conversation to end. I still had things I needed to say, things I needed him to hear.

"Jake, I..." I trailed off. It was hard to focus when he was staring at me like that. Glancing away in an attempt to gather my thoughts, I saw a couple of two elderly men staring at us and our blood-splattered clothing with wide eyes.

Glad for the distraction, I stood. "People are watching. Follow me." I opened the door to the waiting room and went out into the main area, where both the second and third stories were visible above.

Jake's jade eyes were swimming with suspicion. "What do you want?"

"I want...to say I'm sorry."

"What for?" His face was an emotionless mask, his brows low and mouth set in a cruel slash. The cut over his eye had healed into a jagged white scar, only making him seem even more intimidating.

"Because of the things I said in front of Hundsen. I mean, I was putting on a ruse for him." Shaking my head slightly, I told him, "It wasn't true. I know that many people think you're power-hungry or ruthless, but...You're not a monster. People are an output of their environment, and you're one of yours. You know that, right?" I wasn't sure if he needed to hear it or not, but I said it anyway. I had things that I regretted doing as well, things that I'd been forced into.

He said nothing, just kept watching me like he was trying to figure me out, like there was a lie somewhere in my statement and he was trying to find it. Chin held high, I met his gaze without barriers.

"I wouldn't do that to you," I said, feeling like I should fill the silence. I was aware that he already knew, but with the way he was watching me...

"Those lies came out very quickly. Wherever did you pull inspiration from?" It didn't sound as if he thought I believed them, it felt like he was hinting toward something else.

I shrugged. "I'm a good actress. It comes along with being a spy."

"Don't forget that I can sense lies, Tesla."

"Fine. You know where I really got the inspiration from?" I hated how barbed my tone was. "All those things are what I used to tell myself. I used to think those very thoughts every single day after Imperium took me."

"You're disgusted by what you've done. You think you're selfish." It came out as a statement, not a question. "You're scared of yourself."

It was too much, too deep inside my aching soul. "No," I lied breezily, "It was how I used to think. Now, things are different."

If he could sense that I wasn't telling the full truth, he didn't mention it. "You're a product of other people's war," he said with earnest. It wasn't said with the intent of comfort, but it strangely made me feel better. Someone understood. Finally, I had someone that understood.

My eyes dropped. We were standing close. My heart beating in my chest, I was very aware of his proximity to me. Because of his threatening nature and powerful presence, I'd always been wary of him. I still was now, but for an entirely different reason.

I felt like I should reach out, touch him, make him aware of the rush of emotions he gave me. I couldn't bring myself to look back into his eyes, knowing that if I did, I would lose all my self control.

He tore his eyes away, glancing at the clock on the wall behind me. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" I followed him as he went to the glass doors.

"Jaxon still has some bombs left over from when we blew up the weapons factories. We're going to watch Hundsen's home burn."