James was by my side when I woke, his scent the first thing I was conscious of, the first thing that anchored me back to the real world. Ailech was just leaning back from Malachi, apparently finished with his healing. Kael and Nevaeh were standing further back, watching the scene as well. And though Malachi's bed was soaked with blood, his body painted in it, and the smell of burnt flesh still hung in the air, his face was recognizable again, and not a mark was visible under his collar. Or, no new marks at least.

After taking in my surroundings while avoiding James' glare, I finally looked up at him. The shelf in his jaw stood out, his eyes narrowed and his brows pulled together in sharp disapproval. I smiled weakly at our connection's smolder before speaking.

"Well, now we've both done something stupid on Malachi's behalf, so we're even. Let's just keep it a one-to-one tie, okay?"

James exhaled through his nose in a slight scoff, his eyes still dark on mine as he spoke.

"I'm pretty sure your 'something stupid' was quite a bit worse than mine."

"Was it, really? I didn't kill anyone."

I grabbed his collar and pulled myself up into a seated position by it, watching him the whole way up. He huffed again, but I saw a slight smile fighting to surface.

"What happened?" James asked shortly.

"Has he woken up yet?" I replied, glancing at Malachi.

James and Ailech both shook their heads.

"The Collector was using dreams to gain information about us, the Vault, our strengths and plans. But Malachi didn't tell him anything. He lied and said he didn't know yet. The injuries were punishments for his mistakes - getting collared, losing the Collector's eyes. He was about to do something to him for helping us with Chi, but then I got there and stopped him. It was only a dream, and he doesn't have the foothold in my mind he does with Malachi or..."

"In mine. I know."

James spoke up as I trailed off, realizing I had been speaking more to the room than just him, letting them know what I could do, what the Collector could do to the ones he used to own and control. Or the ones he still did.

"I tried to pretend I was there because we wanted to be the ones to torture Malachi, or because we didn't want the Collector to be able to have him anymore. But he saw through it. He knows we aren't...like that. He knows we aren't going to kill Malachi or harm him. He said we're too weak."

"He isn't wrong there. But I am hoping our battle with him isn't determined by who is harder or colder, but a different kind of strength. That's the only chance we've got."

James was watching me with such tenderness, such intimacy, I felt something tighten and quiver in my stomach as he spoke. He had changed so much from the empty, arrogant, arm-length man I had first met when I joined the Clan. He was more honest, transparent even at times, he had emotions, and not just violence or anger or tight-fisted control like he used to have. I swallowed hard and stood, going to the foot of Malachi's bed.

James stood at the bedside and looked down at the man he had known for the first half of his life. A multitude of emotions played across his face as he watched him. I was sure he was wondering why Malachi would keep our secrets about Ailech and Red Shifts and even being True Pairs, though his father already knew that. But what advantage did it give Malachi to withhold information? And how could we keep the Collector out of his dreams indefinitely?

Malachi's curved eyes opened, and he looked momentarily confused as he focused on the ceiling above him. Then his eyes found James, the closest of us to him and he flinched, jerking away as a short yelp escaped him before he snapped his mouth shut.

"Fuck. Forgot you look just like him," Malachi muttered as he breathed out, trying to play off his reaction, though his chest still rose and fell quickly as he worked to calm himself.

James stepped back swiftly, going unnoticed by the rest of our group as their attention was still on Malachi. But I saw it. How his jaw locked, the pulse as he bit down on his teeth, again and again, how hard and flat his eyes had become, his flexed arms at his sides, his hands in tight fists. I knew he hated the similarities between him and his father, their black hair and navy eyes. Even the lines of their faces were alike, their height and frame, though James was slighter now, still regaining his weight and muscle.

I drifted over and leaned into him, and he relaxed minutely.

I don't think you look that similar. You're much more my type.

I felt his mind open before me, like our skin touching allowed my thoughts to flow into him as easily as a dam.

I should hope so.

He replied with forced humor, but his hands had already relaxed at his sides, his jaw clenching less often. I stepped away as I addressed Malachi.

"Why didn't you tell him everything you know?"

It was hard for me to look at Malachi, propped up in a crimson-stained bed, covered in blood and scars. Something about it made my own hands want to curl into fists.

He swept his hair back, smirking as he slicked it out of his face with his own blood like macabre hair gel. His hands ended at his collar, hanging from it in a casual pose, but I knew it was to cover his naked chest, his scars. In the silence as he considered his answer, or possibly for dramatic effect, I grabbed his long-sleeved shirt from the floor and tossed it to him. He deftly put it on before speaking.

"Tit for tat. Your secrets are my bartering chips, so why would I give them away for free? If you can stop me from tearing my eyes out or branding myself each night, stop these little dream rendezvous, then I'll keep my information to myself."

James opened his mouth to speak, probably to say we didn't have a way to keep the Collector out, but I answered first.

"Deal."

» ✦ «

"I don't like you sleeping in his room."

James spoke only slightly out of breath after our latest sparring session. He had been winning all afternoon, but we hadn't allowed our second Shifts, as he still didn't think he could control his, and he didn't want to experience the collar's punishment firsthand.

"He can sleep in my room, then." I shrugged in response.

"That isn't what I mean. It's not about who's sleeping in whose room. It's about you sleeping in the same room."

He wasn't meeting my eye as he became incredibly interested in cracking his knuckles and wrists. I half-laughed.

"Are you worried? Do you actually think something would happen between us?" His eyes met mine now, briefly, before dropping to his hands again.

"No. I don't know what I'm feeling. I just don't like it. I'm trying to...communicate."

"Are you trying to date me?" I smirked, still poking fun.

James, however, was not joking. His eyes looked distinctly unamused as he answered in a flat voice.

"If you tease me about this then it'll just teach me to not try it again, this talking thing."

"You're right. You're right. I'm sorry." I turned to him and grabbed his hands that he was still continually cracking. "I promise, nothing will happen, this is just to keep his mind, and our secrets, protected from your father."

He nodded. Still looking displeased, but less so.

I leaned in, reaching up to brush his dark hair back from his face, enjoying the fact that we were alone. That I could be close to him without being watched. And it was cute that he was trying so hard, trying to make this something more than...whatever it had been before.

Kael and Nevaeh had left a half-hour ago to eat, Malachi was training on his own elsewhere in the Vault, and Chi and her Clan were meeting with Abby, discussing the possibility of a training schedule. Even Ailech was with Ember, working on her own training. This was one of the first times we were alone together somewhere safe without any immediate pressing issues. Except for the fact that come nighttime, I would have to babysit the mind of an abused and abusive psychopath.

"Wait, what about you?" The thought hit me, and I couldn't believe it had taken me all day to put the pieces together.

"I thought that's what we just talked about?"

James sounded genuinely confused as he moved his head against my hand, reminiscent of when a dog wants you to continue petting them. He closed his eyes with contentment as I ran my fingers back through his hair again.

"That's not what I mean, not your feelings, your mind, your dreams. What are we going to do about that?"

James grimaced before peeking open his deep blue eyes. And I immediately knew why.

» ✦ «

That night we met outside Malachi's door, me in a tank and sweatpants, and James a T-shirt and the same, by far the most casual I had ever seen him. We looked about as awkward as we felt in our sleepwear as we walked into Malachi's room uninvited and unannounced. We heard the shower running, and an actual nervous giggle escaped me at the thought of him coming out to our little impromptu slumber party. James smiled at the sound, a crooked, young smile, similar to his cocky one-sided smirk, but different, more pleasant than arrogant.

My eyes were pulled from his face as I felt something like a disturbance in the air, no temperature change, not even movement really, but still a palpable change. When I turned to look back at the room, three beds lined the wall where previously, only one had been centered. Before we could say anything about the seemingly all-knowing magic of Abby, or explore the embarrassing ramifications of what all he could see in our rooms, Malachi sauntered out from his shower.

He was dripping onto the floor, his white hair plastered to his face and neck, and a towel slung low across his hips, confirming my suspicion that his scars continued evenly downward. I pushed back the red hot knife of anger each pale white line sent through me.

He jumped when he saw James again, his whole body tensed for the edge of a second before he recovered. Then his yellow eyes widened, and his eyebrows rose as he took in the scene of us in our PJs standing in front of three beds that hadn't been there when he went into the bathroom presumably not very long ago. Understanding dawned on his face as he opened his mouth to a steady stream of one word.

"No, no no no no. No no no. No no. No. No. Fuck no. We are not having a goddamn sleepover. Get the fuck out, now. No."

"This is our deal. This is how I'm going to stop your nightmares. James' too."

"I sleep naked," Malachi threatened.

"I don't care," I replied evenly.

"I will drop this towel right here and now unless you get out."

"I don't care," I repeated as I walked to the center bed and sat on it poignantly.

"I don't share rooms." Malachi's usually low rumbling voice was ground out, and I almost thought he was going to Shift and try to physically remove us.

"If you don't want my father torturing you every time you shut your eyes, then Jordan has to be here. And she has to be with me as well for the same reason. My father has a hold in my mind too, though he cannot make me hurt myself at least."

James spoke up, and Malachi looked ambivalent like he was battling wanting to argue more or move subjects. He decided on the latter.

"Well, consider yourself lucky on multiple counts then. When he learned that trick, it was a whole different game. Not just fear or emotion or manipulation in dreams, but damage, punishments, from anywhere. And he's a creative man, as you know."

Malachi rubbed his eyes like he was remembering the earlier attack before dropping his hands to his sides and moving toward where his small pile of clothes lay.

"How did he learn to do it? Why can he only do it with you and not James?"

Malachi side-eyed me as I spoke, clearly more uncomfortable with me being there than James. It struck me as odd, since he made such a show of leering and lude comments, but I didn't mention it.

"He has to have controlled your mind before, not just know it or have some connection or hold in it but controlled it fully. Once he learned that, he took to practicing often, honing his skills on me."

"What do you mean 'controlling your mind'?"

James' tone told me he already knew the answer. And that it was bad.

"Compulsion, another hobby he picked up after you left."

Malachi refused to look at James as he answered, turning his back to us as he slipped his shirt over his head. But I saw the tightening in my Pair's face, how his lips formed a flat line, his jawline sharp.

"What does he have you do?"

James was on his bed now too, his head hanging between his sharp shoulder blades, elbows on his knees, watching the ground.

"Depends on his mood."

Malachi replied shortly. Though after a pause, he and James shared the flicker of a look and James' face fell. I felt like I was missing so much of their conversation. But after a long pause, I spoke up.

"What's Compulsion?"

Malachi surprised me by answering immediately.

"Human puppeteering. Takes a lot of power, a lot of practice, but some dark magicians have mastered it. My master employs multiple of such."

Malachi's yellow eyes looked wild as he answered, too bright in the low light of his room, like an animal in the shadows.

"It's a step past these collars," James said as he idly fingered his.

"It's a hundred steps past this!" Malachi shouted and I jumped. But then he continued with control back in his low voice, though his chest still rose and fell deeply.

"Abby would never Compel anyone, if he even could...even if he should. Even me."

The shadow of a flinch passed Malachi's face. Like a cringe but faster, a tick. His features returned to calm so quickly, I wondered if it even happened or if it was just my imagination, a trick of the light. James' sorrow-filled voice pulled me from my reverie.

"I'm sorry. I should never have left you behind, left you with him. To that."

James' face was solemn as he watched Malachi, though his old acquaintance turned his back and spoke over his shoulder.

"Save your apology. I don't remember most times. Any mission or task that was important enough for Compulsion, he wiped the memory of. I only remember the experiences he wants me to remember," Malachi spoke bitterly as he continued to avoid James' eyes.

"What kinds of experiences?" I heard my voice speak softly, without truly wanting to know.

"His own unique breed of lessons in submission." Malachi tried to sound nonchalant, but it sounded strained, even without being able to see his face.

"What kind of missions?" James continued, moving the conversation to seemingly safer ground.

"Search, kill, retrieve. I don't know much else."

"Retrieve?" I interjected again, my mind prickling, the sensation moving down my body until I felt needles across my skin.

"To prove the target's been killed, he often has me bring the bodies back. I disobeyed him before, lied to him about a target, so now he requires proof."

James and I shared a look.

"When was your last Compulsion? Do you remember it?"

James's voice sounded as cautious as his eyes looked, but not for Malachi, for me. He was watching me like he thought I might try to murder Malachi if he answered as we were both suspecting. But I knew who my anger was for - the puppeteer, not the puppet. I moved my head to the side, just slightly, to show James I wasn't going to do anything rash. His shoulders relaxed as he turned his attention back to Malachi, who was watching our silent exchange with narrowed, piercing eyes.

"I do remember my last, but it wasn't a mission. It was...personal," he rolled his shoulders like he was preventing a shudder, "but the last mission was during some bad snowstorm. I don't remember it, or where I went. But I woke up wet and freezing in my quarters. Someone's blood splattered across me, soaked down my side. Probably carotid or beheading from the spray. So, probably a Darkling or Vamp, though no Vampyre has stood against him in years."

"The body?"

"I don't know. I don't remember any of that one. Full blackout."

"I do. I remember." I spoke up, knowing in my heart it had been Syn, knowing it had been Malachi that night, or rather, Malachi's body, remembering those eyes, the height and build. I swallowed hard and continued.

"It was Syn, a member of Chimarah's Clan. He was a good man and my friend. A good friend. So...I'm going to kill the mage who did it, who was behind your hand and made you do it. I'm going to kill the Collector too for what he's done to you and James and Syn and countless others. I'll avenge them all."

Malachi was watching me with an inscrutable look for a beat, then he shrugged.

"It's your fuckin' suicide, do whatever you want," he mumbled under his breath as he toed the ground.

The air in the room had changed, and I imagined we looked a strange group - Malachi still with a towel around his waist, though he wore a shirt for modesty, James between Malachi and me, ever ready in case there was a fight to break up. And me, sitting on the center cot, promising to kill a mage strong enough to turn a Half into a doll, and the Fallen who was powerful enough to control a mage so strong. I chuckled and flopped back on my bed, though I saw the confused look James and Malachi shared at my reaction before my head hit the pillows and they were out of my line of view.

I let the silence plod on for a few minutes, letting Malachi disappear and emerge from the bathroom again, this time in sweatpants. He looked much more like himself, covered from neck to wrist to ankle, hiding the story of his life that his bared skin told. I stayed lying on the bed until I heard both men's mattresses sigh as they laid down too. Then I spoke at the ceiling to Malachi.

"How did you know that bleeding would make my second Shift lessen earlier, in your dream? You said you didn't know anything about Red Shifts. Crossed your shriveled heart even, I do believe."

I knew he had said it was all for bartering, for avoiding punishment from the Collector, and maybe that was true. But I couldn't help thinking there was more there, more to so much about him. In his looks and pauses and shrugs. In the words he used and even the times he said nothing. I studied the crescent-shaped cuts on my palms as I waited for him to answer.

"I'm many things, but I'm no liar."

His voice was back to an act when he spoke, deep and rough and rolling like storm clouds, like he was seducing me, flirting. But his earlier reaction to me sleeping in his room proved it was a rouse. That somehow made me feel better about him too. I glanced over, and he smirked and winked. I rolled my eyes before leveling them on the ceiling again, I knew he would continue.

"No, I know nothing about that Shift or how to control it or stop it or use it. But you looked like you were going into a blood frenzy, and I do know that feeling. Sometimes when my nature demands blood and there's no one to spill it from, then you have to spill your own to satisfy the urge. Glad it worked, you were about to blow the whole game and I don't think my third punishment would have been as soft and sweet as my first two."

He sounded so nonchalant as he talked about his own torture. Words like 'punishment' and 'master' came from him so easily. It made me hate the Collector more. It made me see how - to Malachi - this was all normal. James had said as much in our conversations before, how he didn't even know his upbringing was strange, wrong, until he got out. But seeing it in the flesh before me, seeing how casually Malachi could talk about those things, even how quickly he recovered when the collar acted, or when I had pulled his anger...it made me disgusted and sad in equal measure. I hated how he was so used to it, to pain and fear. I made a promise to myself again that I would kill the Collector for everything he had done.

"You're welcome, by the way, for saving you," I finally replied in a teasing voice, trying to cover my thoughts.

I heard a short laugh come from his bed, halfway between a scoff and a real one.

"No one can save me."

Hmmmmm, didn't someone else say that before? A gangly teen with dark hair, dark eyes, & a darker soul when some captive offered to help him? Hm.

Anywoo, this chapter was alllll about learning more about the Collector and Malachi and Compulsion and Red Shifts. What do you think? Catch it all? All making some sense (& Syn!)

I wonder how Chi will react when she learns she's under the same roof as Syn's killer...kind of...

And yes, Compelling/Compulsion is basically blood bending from Avatar, but WHAT A COOL CONCEPT RIGHT!? It's also because I'm a Harry Potter nerd, and the Imperius Curse always seemed so sinister to me too. And possession from Supernatural. So this is a mix of all.

Enjoy!