Yes. No. Yes.
“That would...that would probably not help my rage problem.”
He said nothing for a long moment, hiding his feelings deep beneath the lingering anger he was using to shield himself. “You dealt with it earlier, I noticed.”
“Yeah, best not to push it by throwing my brother’s murderer in the mix.” I pulled a hand down my ponytail. “Besides, we are already breaking into a high security facility.”
“What would be a second?” he asked in an entirely too off-handed way.
I closed my eyes, pushing aside the alluring thought of facing one of my brother’s killers.
He leaned forward, eyelids dropping to shade half his eyes. “Revenge...I know its tune. I know its lure and bite. I know how it whispers in the midnight shadows. How you string it along to feel the teeth linger.”
Axer's fingers tightened.
Constantine leaned back. There was still a lingering anger in the actions, but it was as if an avenue of revenge sated some of the bloodlust. “But as much as the old demon in me incessantly calls upon me to pull you down to my level—so much easier than traveling the opposite path—I wouldn’t tempt you to follow this lure. I would deliver your revenge for you, should you desire it.”
“What did Idami Senturten steal from Ren?” Axer asked grimly.
I looked at him in confusion.
“Who?” Constantine asked apathetically—gaze still on me, the smallest wave of dark satisfaction in the vibration of his emotions.
A sinking sensation settled in my chest. It was the type of response from Constantine that always meant he was to blame.
“If nothing else, you are consistent,” Axer said grimly.
I only knew about Idami Senturten peripherally, but Delia relayed gossip like she was the only water bearer at an ultra-marathon, so I wasn't unaware of the talk surrounding the older girl. Idami had disappeared in disgrace before the end of winter term—in her last year at Excelsine—after an anonymous packet of devastating evidence had been given to the board revealing a plethora of illegal activities.
I also remembered passing her in Constantine's living room fall term during the first few weeks we had been working together.
“She used you?”
Irritation and, strangely, lazy satisfaction filled him. “As if I would let someone use me. Mutual use is an understanding.”
“What did she do?”
I touched our connection threads, as if to look for non-physical wounds. He paused at the touch and some of his lingering anger drained, leaving a deep sadness behind. He patched the feelings up quickly with hauteur.
“She stole a dozen secret designs from students around campus, using her wiles, however few they were, to scam her way inside and copy, then profit from them.” He twisted the ribbon around his fingers. “She went beyond the understanding we had and stole one of your designs that you left on the table. A doodle, not fully formed, but enough to sell after she realized its worth—and yours.”
He wasn’t even trying to be coy about turning her in anymore, his emotions all clogged up.
“Don't get revenge for me,” I said quietly, answering both queries on the matter.
“Never fear.” He smiled at the ribbon, head tilted back, eyes barely visible beneath suddenly heavy lids. “Revenge is a dish best served personally.”
I watched him with unfocused eyes. I thought of all that I knew of Constantine’s past. And of all the documentation that had appeared so suddenly—everywhere in the media in the last few days to prove that Constantine was my companion in terror.
“Revenge always has consequences,” I murmured. And Bellacia had truly outdone herself.
“Sometimes the consequences are worth the satisfaction,” Constantine said with a lazy smirk.
“And when does vengeance end?” Axer bit out, leaning back. He called his cloak to him and his clenching fingers mirrored his closed expression.
Constantine's emotions went dark. “When I say it does.”
Axer began mending another intricate spell and laughed without humor. “Idami Senturten was one of many in the winter. And yet spring came, and you left Verisetti alive.”
“A mistake I will rectify.”
“Will you?” Axer’s gaze settled weightily on his roommate. “Or will you turn from revenge again and make the choice to pursue other emotional paths?”
Constantine's emotions turned darker still. “What difference does it make to you?”
“It makes a lot of difference,” Axer said quietly, returning to his work and leaving his roommate in tumult.
*
Hidden in a small copse of trees, I slid into the empty hologram after darkness set outside and within the dome, making certain I didn't carry any parts of Corpus Sun with me. Constantine had set the connection up for me, so I could call the Bandits without him being present.
He would not have done so if he knew who I was calling.
“Trying to end the world again. Tut, tut, lovely.” Bellacia watched me from a reclined position, like I was the best cat toy in the store and she was contemplating its delicious destruction. “What were you thinking?”
I’d been carrying the negative certainty for hours, and wasn’t going to discuss anything else first.
“You gave up Constantine,” I said tightly. “They had Axer. But there was no evidence of Constantine’s involvement. You provided it.”
She smiled tightly. “And it gained us a stronger position. Our papers and feeds are back on top. Back in the saddle, in the middle of it all. And you need me there.”
I clenched my teeth. “He’s more than ruined. He’ll be killed—or worse—if he’s caught by Stavros.” I didn’t let her respond to that. “Is your bitterness satisfied, Bella?”
Her eyes flashed, but then she smiled. “I suppose it should be,” she said tightly.
“You don't touch him again in revenge.”
She didn't answer for a moment, then, “Fine.”
I grabbed the vow from her, wrapping it around my pinky. “I will hold you to it.”
“I know you will,” she said, watching me speculatively beneath heavy eyelids.
I tucked the vow away. “I need to figure out how to clear Constantine and Axer. To separate them from me. How do I do that?”
Bellacia just laughed. “Clear them? No. Their fates are now tied intrinsically with yours. They will sink with you, or rise with you.”
“There has to be a way.”
“Hmmm....well, I suppose you could use the layer dynamics and impose a grid on all the layers to make people forget.” She spun a finger cleverly in the air, cat eyes half-lowered and watching. “Force the public to your will.”
I stared at her. “Tempting.”
“No? But it will solve so many problems for you.”
It might. Then again, mind magic had never been my forte. I might amnesia the entire planet or brain damage our entire species.
“I wouldn't know where to begin,” I said.
“Oh,”—she sidled up to me—“I think you would. Even if you needed a bit of...help. All those holes in that pack of hunters' minds in December. How exactly did their memories get erased?”