“Something like that,” I said quietly, realizing their parents must not have said a word about me after they met me at Gianne’s celebrations. It didn’t exactly surprise me. They had barely acknowledged my presence at the time. Maybe they were even embarrassed by Navan bringing an outsider into Vysanthe, given the South’s distaste for such things. It appeared I was the dirty little secret, kept from those who didn’t need to know.
“That’s all he ever does, you know? He just runs, all the time. He gets up and he goes, and he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself.” A morose look rippled across the coldblood’s face for a moment, before anger replaced it.
“Why do you think that is?” I wondered, sounding more and more like a therapist. Next, I’d be asking how it made him feel.
He shrugged angrily. “He thinks he has more of a right to run away than any of us. Every time we confront him about it, he says he can’t bear to be here, in Plentha, where she was. It’s ridiculous. He’s always acting like he was the only one who suffered after our sister’s—” He stopped abruptly, casting me an odd look. It was somewhere between suspicion and surprise. Even so, he didn’t continue, probably realizing he’d revealed too much to a total stranger. Worse than that, an alien stranger who was traveling with a much-despised brother.
The rustle of wind distracted my attention as a figure landed in the street behind me. Navan folded up his wings with a grimace and walked toward us, his face bruised and swollen, his arms covered in welts from Aurelius’s gunshots. He was moving unsteadily, as though walking brought him immense pain. Without a word, he put his arm around me protectively, pushing me slightly behind him, forcing the coldblood to let go of my arm. A wave of relief washed over me, but Navan’s eyes were fixed on his brother.
“Sarrask, you know that’s not true,” Navan whispered. “I know you all suffered when Naya died, but not a single one of you stood up to our father, or came to see Ronad after he lost her. She loved him, he was part of the family, and you all pretended he never existed, even though his heart was torn out that day. He held her as she died, Sarrask. He fed it to her as a gift, thinking that’s what it was. Do you have any idea how that must have felt?” he continued, his voice rising in anger.
Sarrask pulled a sour face. “He didn’t deserve her in the first place. He was low-born, sponging off our family for years. Who’s to say he didn’t make it all up, to frame our father?” he countered, his fangs flashing.
“If you believe that, you’re more of an idiot than I thought you were,” Navan snarled. “Naya loved Ronad, and that’s all there was to it. Our father is a psychopath. If he hadn’t done what he did, Naya would still be alive, which is a fact you all seem far too eager to forget!” he added savagely. “What, you scared he’ll cut off your credits if you defy him?”
“I don’t need Father’s charity,” Sarrask sneered, “but at least I value everything he’s done for us, unlike you. You wouldn’t have gotten that Explorer job if it wasn’t for him, but you look down your nose at him every chance you get. Not to mention the fact you keep dragging our name through the mud! Do you know what our father had to go through to claw back his position when you betrayed everyone?” He glowered at Navan. “No, I bet you don’t. You don’t care about us. You never have. It was always you and Ronad, off in your own little tribe, roping Bashrik in because he was too stupid to see you were trouble.”
“You leave Bashrik out of this,” Navan warned.
Sarrask gave a tight, bitter laugh. “Oh, you’ll be pleased to know our dear uncle managed to evade capture, too. That must be where you get your traitorous blood from, because you definitely didn’t get it from Father!”
I glanced at Navan, reaching for his hand. Lazar was alive? With his body drenched in blood, the soldiers swarming into the room, I had been sure Lazar was a goner. How could he have evaded capture? How could he be alive? It didn’t make any sense.
Navan kept his focus on his brother, though I could see a twitch in the muscle of his jaw, his teeth gritted. He was just as surprised as I was to hear that his uncle had escaped. I could sense it in the way he squeezed my hand tighter.
Without missing a beat, despite his surprise, Navan replied, “Lazar would betray anyone and anything to get what he wants. Don’t you dare tarnish me with the same brush as him,” he said sourly. “I am nothing like him. If I see him again, I will be first in line to end him,” he added, casting a knowing look in my direction. After the trick he’d pulled with the tracker chip, I supposed Navan still hadn’t forgiven him. In many ways, I hadn’t either, though it was hard not to thank him for what he’d done in helping us escape Gianne’s soldiers. Without his assistance, there was no telling where we’d be right now. For that, and that alone, part of me was glad he’d evaded capture, though I still had no idea how he’d managed it. Lazar had been half dead already when we’d left him, but the crafty old fox was still alive, hiding out there somewhere.
“Then why are you here?” Sarrask asked, a touch confused. “Aren’t you back to find out where he is?”
“No, of course not!” Navan replied, before speaking a string of seemingly random numbers. There were seven of them, with Navan repeating the order, as Sarrask stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. “Now that I’ve given you the code as a show of my goodwill, I need you to promise you won’t inform Gianne of our presence here. It’s essential we leave without anybody knowing we were here. Do you understand?”
Several moments passed before Sarrask offered a reply. “I will keep your presence a secret this time because of what you’ve given me in return, but I will not be so generous next time I catch you here. If I find you trespassing in our nation again, I will deliver you straight to Queen Gianne, and I will kill this pathetic specimen on sight. Do you understand?” he muttered, irritation flickering across his dark blue eyes.
“Thank you, Brother,” Navan replied, holding out his hand for Sarrask to shake. Reluctantly, his brother reached out and gripped him by the arm, with Navan mirroring the gesture. The two of them shook hands like warriors.
“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven for any of it,” Sarrask said tersely as they released one another.
Navan shrugged. “I didn’t think it would.”
“Get out of here before I change my mind,” Sarrask barked, his face twisted in disgust.
“Gladly,” Navan muttered, placing his arms around my waist before he took to the skies, carrying me upward with him. I didn’t know what it was like to have brothers and sisters, but I could picture the petty conflicts between the Idrax siblings as youngsters, especially with so many of them. Naya must have felt so protected and loved with a team of burly brothers around her. With a smile, I realized Ronad must have been a brave man, to fall in love with a woman who had so many brothers.
Renegades (Hotbloods #3)
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