Chapter 24: Wake Up Call

 Cian let me sleep through the night without further interruption. It seemed he wasn't as concerned about keeping the deadline. Maybe it was his way of showing kindness, or maybe he thought the Synod might be more forgiving when they learned about my Anderian connections. Either way, he was a day late and a dollar short, in my opinion.

But I didn't fight him when he woke me up and told me to get ready to leave. Face washed and teeth and hair brushed, I walked out to the car, ignoring Amaya's pointed looks as I climbed inside the car. She handed Cian a bag, whispered something, patted his shoulder, and went inside. He stared at the door long after it clanged shut, and though I wanted to clear my mind entirely of anything to do with the big brute, I couldn't stop myself from being curious when his shoulders curved forward and his chin dropped a fraction. What exchange could deflate him that much?

"Here," he said, handing me the bag after settling himself in the driver's seat. When I didn't reach for it, he let it drop in my lap. "Breakfast."

Prying the bag open, the delightful aroma of maple and bacon wafted to greet me, and my stomach announced its interest in the contents with an audible growl. However, I closed it and set it on the console between us without investigating further. During the long, black hours stretching between the bomb dropped on me and dawn, I'd determined to become a master of my baser instincts, refusing to let my body's wants control my actions any longer, and while I recognized the stupidity of turning down perfectly good nutrition after missing dinner, refusing to eat was a matter of principle.

Cian straightened his fingers over the steering wheel, his entire body going tense before he exhaled and curled his fingers back around the black leather—squeezing hard enough, it squeaked a bit. "You should eat something. It's going to be awhile before we can stop somewhere for lunch."

I shrugged and looked out the window. Snow-capped mountains peeked over the treetops. A light dusting of powder covered the highest branches, and the breeze buffeted flurries about, never letting them land anywhere. The road winding before us was narrow and so black it must have been freshly paved, which was a relief considering the longer we drove, the steeper the drop off became—at least on my side. I refused to look across the car to compare the view, too afraid to catch Cian watching me. Too afraid my precarious hold on my determination to withdraw from everything and everyone would be undone. This behavior went against my very nature, but I was so very tired of fighting. And losing.

I dozed off and on for about an hour, my stomach's protest never quieting enough to let me get any proper rest. Cian didn't make a move for the food, and it was so tempting to tear into the bag and shove the now cold, greasy goodness into my mouth. Being reserved and taciturn might be against my nature, but being stubborn was not. This was one game I could win.

Another downside to playing the quiet game was the forced time in my thoughts. I had spent most of my adult life focused on solving mysteries—finding closure for the victims of crime, while poking around for clues about my own life. And that was the problem, I realized as we crested a hill and took a sharp curve that made me suck in a sharp breath. If the wheel of the car so much as veered an inch too far, we would pitch into the abyss.

Licking my lips, I inched away from the window, and regretted it almost at once as the temperature ratcheted up several degrees just by being closer to the Anderian male. Not to mention I was now closer to the still delicious scent of breakfast.

I debated to scooting back toward the window but decided salvaging my pride was worth the discomfort. It wouldn't do for Cian to think his presence affected me, and I focused on following my train of thoughts back to where I'd derailed. Oh yes. The idea that I treated my past as a mystery to solve, and it might have been fine if I hadn't detached myself from it. Like I would get answers and put it in a file that said case closed and go on about my life. Not once had I really considered the consequences of answers.

A pop of static startled me, but it was quickly followed by the sound of banjos and twangy voices singing about cheating men and broken hearts. The song was vaguely familiar and probably hadn't been on the charts in fifty years. Not my usual preference in music, but it offered a pleasant respite from the increasingly maudlin tone of my thoughts. My fingers tapped against my thigh, finding the rhythm easily, and within a few seconds, my head bobbled along. It was all a fun distraction until I wondered if this would be the last song I heard before I died, and with that terrible thought, I reached out and hit the power button on the radio. Silence settled around us like a stone.

Until Cian burst into the chorus, his smooth baritone voice only slightly off key as he belted out the lyrics like it was his favorite song. It was shocking enough that I couldn't stop myself from looking at him. He continued singing like I wasn't gaping at him, even making banjo noises in the transition to the next verse. The sight of this man—half beast, half erosi—and one hundred person lethal predator singing human country music with a goofy grin on his face undid me. I blinked once. Twice. Three times.

Had we somehow travelled between dimensions? Had he been body snatched? I might chalk it up to a poor attempt to pull me out of my moodiness, but that didn't explain the way he knew every single lyric. Never could I have imagined Cian doing something so ordinary. So human and mundane as jamming out to music while driving. He was a winged monster with a mission to hunt down Shards so he could go home.

I recoiled. This wasn't fair. I didn't want to think of him as a person. It was easier to hate him when he was a monster.

Closing my mouth and swallowing—it had been open so long it had gone dry—I scooted back to the window. Pride be damned, and tucked my gloved hands beneath my face and forced my eyes shut. Cian finished the last verse with much less gusto than the others and didn't start up another.

"Let's get out and stretch our legs."

"W-what?"

My voice cracked from disuse and sleep. We were parked at a small rest stop, and I didn't see any other cars nearby. Not even a security booth was provided. The flurries had turned to large flakes, and they were accumulating in the shadows. It figured the Synod would be located somewhere cold and icy—just like their consciences.

I debated being difficult, but my bladder wasn't as easy to ignore as my stomach, and I begrudgingly unbuckled my seatbelt and bolted for the bathroom before he could say anything else. There was something about needing to pee and knowing the toilet was close by that made everything more urgent, and I couldn't stop the moan of relief that slipped out as I emptied my bladder. He probably had super hearing and heard that, but I couldn't bother to be embarrassed.

While I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the cheap mirror. They didn't flatter anyone on a good day, and today was anything but good. Deep hollows were carved into my face below my eyes, so dark and bruised I looked as if someone had punched me. My hair was a tangled, greasy knot atop my head. Shaking the water off my hands, I stared at the lifeless brown eyes peering back at me, and a hysterical giggle bubbled up. One I had to slap my hand over my mouth to smother. Everything that made me—me—was gone. I felt like a shell. Bria was gone.

"You okay in there?"

Not bothering to answer, I opened the door and shouldered past Cian. He followed, stepping in front of me before I could get into the car and forced a plastic wrapped item into my hand.

"Eat."

A spark of something—whatever bit of myself that remained—woke up enough to throw the vending machine snack at his face. It bounced off and fell to the ground in the space between us.

"Bria, you will not starve yourself between here and there." He bent down and retrieved it. "For fuck's sake, will you please eat? Or at least say something?"

A hundred responses flitted through my mind, and I tossed each one. Features frozen in a deadpan expression, I held his gaze for an entire second, letting the warmth of his anger and concern flood through me, and then I turned, walking in the opposite direction toward the snow flecked grass and stone benches. I would sit there until I froze if I had to.

His roar rumbled through the earth, and then there was the beat of wings in the air before he dropped from the sky directly in front of me. For a split moment, I expected to see Kohl before me, but when my brain caught up with my eyes, I tried to turn and head back to the car, ignoring my pounding heart, only Cian was done entertaining me.

He snatched me around and shook me. "Fight, damn it."

It was enough to make me smile up at him. "Why? To make you feel better?"

His grip tightened, becoming punishing. "Yes. I've done so many terrible things in my lifetime, and I thought I could live with all my sins. But it turns out I can't live with seeing you broke."

"Just dead."

One hand released me and moved to the center of my chest. Its weight was heavy as he slid it beneath my left breast. Over my heart. "This should never die."

I placed my hand over his, sliding my fingers beneath it like I was holding it before yanking it off my body. "It's too late, and I don't give a fuck about whether or not you feel bad about it. That's not my concern."

"Bria—"

"What don't you grasp?" I screamed, pushing against him. "You've won. You're going to get to go home. Just let me be."

The scream turned to a sob, and I shoved, expecting it to feel like I was trying to push granite. Only Cian flew backward, propelled by a burst of energy that moved down my arms and through my hands. It wasn't far, but it was enough for both of us to look astonished. I thought I'd believed Amaya last night when she told me changing my signature was proof of what I was, but this sealed it. It was tangible evidence, and I stared at my gloved hands as tears streaked down my face.

"Bria," Cian whispered, cupping my cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears as they fell. He caught me as my knees buckled, and he held me against him, his silver wings forming a shelter around me as I cried.

"I don't forgive you." I hiccuped and scrubbed at my face. Power warmed my veins, making me feel alive for the first time in days.

Relief relaxed his expression. "I can handle that. Hate... I can work with that, but that lifeless creature who sat in the car beside me... I never want to see her again."

"You're like fucking whiplash," I spit out, squirming out of his grasp and marching toward the car, stopping to pick up a discarded snack. If I was going to be done sulking for the time being, I sure as hell would not be feisty on an empty stomach. "Get in the car. And I get to pick the music."

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