Soulbound

24. Ashe

I arrive at Gates Tower in less than an hour. Even for a Saturday morning, the thirteenth floor was abuzz with witches scurrying about.

But the witch I sought was nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?”

My voice carries in the large whitewashed room and a few witches crane their necks to see what was causing such a commotion. I avoid their stares as I storm to the conference room in the back, murder on my mind as a familiar head of blonde hair is caught in my crosshairs. As I close the distance between myself and my target, the threads of my anger unwind in my chest, writhing like snakes as everything that has happened within the past twenty-four hours comes crashing down around me.

The arrogant vampires who trespassed on gata turf, goading a teenager into shifting and sealing her fate. Lieutenant Kerrigan and the witches from Public Affairs, who held no remorse for the lives that were taken.

Nessa, the Reaper who was supposed to have been cremated after falling at the claws of a wraith while out hunting alone. Dead because I was not there to have my partner's back as I should have been, and yet still very much alive. A broken, breathing shell of the person she once was. Not exactly a puppet, but something more sinister.

The puppetmaster who brought her back, using her as a pawn in some twisted vendetta. Infusing new life into a vessel where life should no longer exist.

The Enlightened and their fanatical attempts to cause trouble. The Tribunal and their ruthless determination to bury loose ends. My hand in all of this, stained with centuries of blood that will never come off no matter how hard I scrubbed. The secrets that bind me to them just as much as the tattooed chains painted on my skin.

And Dani, a human caught in the midst of it all. One misstep would bring my ring to light and yet she still did not fully understand the danger that she summoned with each backdoor she pulled me through. Her life was not the only one at risk, and her continual presence—no, those eyes and the effect they had, the memories they stirred—only further complicated things. She blinded me and made me see things in ways I did not want to.

I reel in my rage as I throw open the door.

“You liar!” My hands are around the collar of Chandler's suit before he can blink, and with ease I lift him out of the chair and shove him against the glass wall. I can feel the eyes of the room on my back but my own are laser-focused on him. I hope he combusts from the intensity. “You fucking liar!”

He lifts his hand but I grab his wrist before he can channel the rune and try to restrain me. Instead, he chokes out, “Ashe, what're you doing?”

“You told me she was dead! You said you burned her body!”

Chairs scrape against the tiled floor as the other occupants in the room rise to their feet, but I block everything out. It was only me and him, and I was hell-bent on getting answers.

“W-who?” Chandler's green eyes are as wide as saucers as they stare openly at me from behind thick-rimmed glasses, but it was not fear that I felt radiating off of him. Surprise danced on the lines of his brow, but there was something else lurking in those glossy depths, something unexpected, that caused me to relax my grip on his throat.

He knew.

My anger surged, even as hands wrapped themselves around my arms and yanked me back. “You lying piece of shit. You knew, didn't you? You knew that Nessa wasn't dead!”