“He doesn’t really talk about either of you that much,” I said stiffly, because I could feel Rhys burning a hole through the back of my head.
“Because it’s personal,” Rhys said irritably. “How much have you told me about your family, Maia?”
“Everything there is to know about them was probably in whatever file you read before you met me,” I coolly reminded him.
Well, he may have had a point nonetheless. I didn’t offer up information about myself too willingly. But for me, learning more about Rhys wasn’t about simple curiosity. Not with Natalya’s screams echoing from the depths of me.
I touched the graveyard-cold steel contraption around my neck. Feeling the slight pinch at the back from Mellie’s injection, I wondered silently when I would be free of it.
“It’s not personal, Aidan. That’s the thing,” Brendan said. “It was never personal. Father chose you. You should be proud of that. He chose you.” His voice wavered. “Fisk-Hoffman was notorious for being tough but fair. And when that rough patch was over, by the time it was Aidan’s turn in the so-called Devil’s Hole, the Council had gotten rid of the staff making a mess of things and the facility had been restored to its former glory. It was better than it’d ever been.”
A mess of things? I would have prodded for more information, but Rhys’s icy snickering cut me off before I could get the words out.
“Former glory?” That was all he said before falling silent.
Finally, Brendan stopped and looked up at him. “Precisely, but you seem to disagree. If I’m wrong, then tell me why.”
Rhys didn’t. He didn’t say a word. He only stared off to the side, his gaze tracing a line up the wall. It may have been the way the whites of his eyes caught the light, but they seemed to be glimmering. Wet.
I didn’t like seeing it. “Rhys . . .” I reached out to him, but he blinked very quickly and turned from me.
Brendan clucked his tongue impatiently. “I don’t know if this is about those five—the ones we thought had died in the fire. Or maybe you’re acting like this because the facility’s training regime was harder than you’d expected. It may have been for a short time, but you received top training from the same facility Father did. Under Father’s recommendation. And you can always trust Father’s recommendation.”
Rhys turned a glare upon him. “Don’t you say that. You know how Dad was as well as I do.”
Almost by instinct, Brendan’s hand floated to his left arm. He rubbed it gently, as if to cradle it. It was still there when he answered his little brother. “Yes, I know how he was. A serious and dedicated man who wanted the best—”
“Who wanted perfection.”
“—for not only his sons but for the Sect as a whole. He’s never given anyone more than they can handle. And whether it’s the Sect or his family, his every decision is always to make us stronger. Any objections to that, Aidan?”
In the silence that followed, Rhys shut his eyes. Brendan’s self-satisfied smirk made it clear he interpreted that as a sign of little brother finally backing down. It was a power struggle that he was clearly desperate to win. His chest puffed out more when he figured he had.
“Good. I’m glad you finally see things my way, little brother.” He’d probably emphasized the word “little” to knock him down a peg, but it came off as more of a self-assurance. He straightened his back. “Now, both of you can continue to follow me. And, Aidan, you’ll do well to keep a more respectful tone from now on. Although we’re family, I’m still in charge.”
Rhys’s laughter echoed off the wall. “Oh, shut up.”
He hopped down to my level and grabbed Brendan’s sleeve with his good hand.
“Hey!” I waved my hands wildly as Rhys yanked his brother close to him. “Wait, don’t fight! Peace! Peace!” I hadn’t expected things would get this messy quite this quickly.
But Rhys only flicked him in the head.
“Ow!” Brendan whined. His hands flew to his forehead, but with a smile, Rhys blocked them and flicked him again.
“I’m the civil, responsible one,” Rhys repeated in a mocking tone as he continued to keep the older boy from guarding against his flicks. “Aw, Bren, so all this is just because you wanted a little love from your baby bro, right? Riiight?” He gave the last word a childish swoon as if his older brother were a puppy he’d decided to tease.
“St-stop it!” Brendan struggled against Rhys as the younger boy tried to force a hug on him. “This is t-totally inappropriate!”
But Rhys succeeded, enveloping him in a bear hug with his good arm, so tight that Brendan’s glasses skewed off his face.
“Look at you. You can’t even fight me off, can you? Dude, I’m in a cast.” After waving his broken wrist, Rhys caught Brendan’s neck by the crook of his elbow and didn’t let go, even as his brother squirmed wildly against the steel cage that was his grip. “Looks like you could have spent a week or two in Greenland, eh? But Daddy gave me the recommendation, not you. I can see where the jealousy comes from. Guess you just weren’t good enough to be the Chosen One.”
“Jealous?” Brendan sputtered, indignant. “I was never— Who said I was—”
“Please. And since we’re sharing, maybe I should tell Maia about how you wet your bed until you were twelve? Or how you locked yourself in your room writing crappy poetry for days after your girlfriend dumped you?”
“Enough!”
“Then performed it at a poetry slam competition and totally tanked. Director Prince.”
I’d been expecting a real brawl when Rhys jumped down the stairs and grabbed him. Or a war of words. Not a litany of embarrassing anecdotes. But seeing Brendan’s face redden and his eyes dart to me every few seconds made me realize that this may have been worse. The earlier tension had dissolved into something more playful. Rhys was laughing, after all, but there was a cold sting to his glee he couldn’t quite hide from me.
“Okay, okay, break it up, guys.” They stopped struggling with each other only after I began prying them apart. “Before someone’s neck gets broken in all the fun and games.”
The two straightened their clothes, breathing a little harder than before.
“You’ve got nothing to be jealous of, Brendan,” Rhys said as resentment crept back into his features. “You didn’t have to go to the facility. Trust me, if you had, your life would have turned out very differently.”
Maybe he was referring to the other kids—Philip, Jessie, and the rest. That would make sense. But something told me there was more to his hostility that he didn’t dare speak out loud. That hostility, even if it was just a flicker, had turned him into a very different Rhys—the one who made me think of that boyish smile of his and question everything.
14
FINALLY, WE CAME TO THE end of the staircase, a seven-foot door of steel and bolts just ahead of us. Brendan’s keycard brought us through the threshold and into a long path wedged between two rows of widely spaced holding cells. Each cell was sealed by solid red iron doors.