31. Levy

Chapter thirty-one

Levy

D ouglas's threat loomed over our heads as we prepped for an all-out war. Anders ordered Margot to stay home for the next week or so, until we let her know it was safe to come back. She told Anders some choice words about ‘respecting his elders' and threatened him with a gun that none of us even knew she carried. For the rest of the day, Erik was practically locked in his office, putting out fires as our crew made waves, taking out vital pieces of his father's operation and claiming more and more territory in our name.

Per his orders, we were all dressed for a quick exit, thin Kevlar vests under our shirts and our go-bags within reach. I stationed myself in the living room, monitoring my laptop to watch our perimeter. No one knew where we lived, but we weren't exactly hiding either, so we had to assume that they could track us down.

Grace was propped up on the couch next to me, a backpack beside her that I assumed Anders packed for her. He and Jesse wandered in and out sporadically, alternating between Erik's office and patrolling the house. In Jesse's case, I thought it was more restlessness than anything else. Every so often, Anders refilled my coffee, and I'd already lost track of the number of cups I'd had. My skin was buzzing, and my eyes followed the cameras relentlessly, waiting for a sensor to trip.

This felt all too similar. The hypervigilance, every nerve ready for the blow to fall. We were too exposed here, we should just head for the safe house, it was more secure. We could be safer there, more in control. I tucked my knees into my chest, my back pressing into the couch as I curled up on the floor, preferring to be lower down, less visible.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder, and I flinched away, hissing out a breath between my teeth. "I'm sorry!" Grace winced, drawing her hand back quickly. She had one of Anders's books on her lap, her feet curled up under her thighs on the couch behind me. "It's just… you were mumbling under your breath," she explained softly, her eyes not quite meeting mine. I looked down and realized that I lost the grip on my visibility again, slipping into old habits once more. I tried, but my nerves were too fried, and I managed only one or two flickers before giving up.

"S'okay," I mumbled, my throat feeling dry. I reached for my mug but it was empty again, I didn't even remember finishing it.

"Can I help?" Grace offered, and the warmth of her power trickled over my skin, basking me in a pleasant heat that had my muscles unclenching. I practically purred as the edge of tension bled away, leaving my chest lighter and my mind clear. I groaned, leaning back until my head was resting against her thighs. Deft fingers brushed over my scalp, massaging small circles through my short hair.

"Is this okay?" she murmured, and I nodded, the words trapped in my chest. She could take out a knife and slit my throat right here, and I would be too relaxed to care. The only time I felt close to this level of calm was in those precious few moments after Anders finished with me, when the world faded away and left me alone and safe and sated.

"You were talking to yourself," Grace told me, and if I had been, I hadn't realized. I opened my eyes and looked up at her face, noting the concern etched along her brow.

"Wha-" I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the words. "Was I saying?" I asked hoarsely.

"You kept repeating ‘They won't take me again'," Grace murmured, stroking my cheek as I shivered, my hands going clammy as I heard my old mantra. I'd told myself that hundreds of times, using it as a lullaby to coax myself to sleep at night for years. They were the only words that never had trouble spilling from my lips.

"Who would try to take you, Levy?" she asked, and I shook my head, even as the warmth of her touch begged me to tell her everything. No one needed to hear my story, it left a black stain of misery on everyone who had the misfortune of hearing it. I saw it sometimes when the others looked at me. Jesse especially, with his easy hugs and flirty personality. It had been hardest for him to learn that casual touches scared me more than a gun to my head.

Even now, practically drugged by Grace's power, I still had that undercurrent of nausea that told me this was dangerous. The nausea fought wildly against my heart, that told me to grow roots here and never move my head from her lap.

"Even your truth-serum magic won't get that story out of him," Anders announced, and I lunged forward, halfway to my feet before I registered it was him. He held up his hands, a smirk playing on his lips, and I caught sight of the bruises on his neck, not quite hidden under his collar. He had barely spoken to me since that night, only a handful of sentences, none of them teasing or suggestive. I'd gone too far, and my stomach clenched with the knowledge that I ruined the… whatever it was between us.

"I'm not magicking anyone," Grace replied caustically, and I felt her warmth recede, leaving me aching and on edge once again. "I was just talking to him, people do that sometimes."

"People do that, but we don't," Anders snapped back, advancing toward us. "Stop asking questions and stop trying to concoct some tragic backstory for us to make us more likable. We are the villains here, Grace, and you're just a stowaway, along for the ride." Grace's shoulders slumped forward, and her gaze dropped to the floor. Anders was a nasty prick most days, but that… that was just cruel.

I stepped toward Anders and put my hand on his shoulder, pushing him back. He glared at where he assumed my face was, and his hands reached out, gripping my shirt collar. "And you, stop pretending like you're suddenly a healed man. One pussy doesn't have the power to fix ten years worth of trauma." I was so startled by his fury that he got the upper hand, shoving me hard into the wall. He never spoke that way to me, one of Erik's few rules was that nobody talked about my past, not unless I brought it up.

"What the fuck, Anders?" I choked out, shoving him hard in the chest. "The hell is your problem?"

Jesse chose that moment to walk in, frowning when he caught sight of Anders seething in the middle of the room. "Erik says we have to go, grab your gear and head to the car," he signed. I swore under my breath and moved to retrieve my laptop as Grace stood wordlessly, throwing her backpack over her shoulder.

"Why?" Anders snapped, whirling on him.

"His dad wants to meet. Asked for a ceasefire," Jesse signed back, his eyebrow raised at Anders's distinctly irate appearance. He slid his arm over Grace's shoulder, and we all filed out to the car, keeping our eyes open and our guns ready. My gun stayed out for the duration of the drive, resting lightly on my lap as I watched out the window. Erik looked absolutely manic, his fingers drumming against the dash and his leg bouncing with pent-up energy. I thought Anders might strangle him before we even reached the warehouse.

We pulled up to the main door, and I slipped out of the backseat, staying invisible as I scouted around. There was no sign of anyone else here, just King Senior's car. A glance inside told me he'd brought his two main guards and that was all. I texted Erik an all-clear and found myself a safe post to keep watch.

This felt almost too easy.