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Rycon’s eyes widened, and my drink fell from my hand, the crystal glass shattering on the stone floor. “Oh, Shi-”
I jerked as Amon closed the distance between his thumb and forefinger, his gaze never leaving Rycon’s. I felt the bond narrow, then close. The connection between our minds, thoughts, and feelings completely blocked off. Then, faster than my eyes could process, Amon had Rycon by the throat. He lifted the shifter up off the ground with one hand as if he weighed nothing.
I couldn’t feel it, his hand around his throat, but I could see him squeeze. Rycon’s hands flew to Amon’s wrist, his face turning red and the veins in his neck began to bulge as his circulation was cut off. Rycon’s booted feet kicked out from under him, as he struggled to break free. Panic filling his inhuman cat-like eyes.
“I have wanted to do this since I met you.” The evil smile painted on Amon’s lips spread wider. “Let’s find out if cats really do have nine lives.”
“Enough,” I said, finally standing. Amon ignored me and squeezed harder until I heard Rycon’s windpipe crack.
“Amon stop it.” My voice hitched, panic setting in. He was really going to do it, he was going to kill him.
“Why should I?” He sounded almost bored, still holding the shifter in a choke hold. I floundered. It was a good question. A fucked up question, but a good one all the same. Why shouldn’t he kill him? I was assuming that if he did while the bond was blocked I would probably live. Then I would be rid of him. Never again would I need to look at the being who was indirectly responsible for my mother’s death.
What was it that made me want him to let the shifter go?
“I just… no more death. No more killing. Amon, please.” Finally, Amon tore his eyes away from Rycon’s face to meet mine.
“No more alcohol.” He countered. I nodded immediately.
“No more alcohol.” I agreed. He dipped his head minutely, then dropped Rycon to the ground. The shifter immediately rolled onto all fours, coughing up blood. I knew he would heal from the cracked windpipe. He wasn’t that easy to kill.
Amon waved a hand at the half-empty bottle on the table and it vanished, along with the mess and the glassware.
He looked me up and down, not a single hint of his usual amused expression on his face.
“Clean yourself up and get some rest. Tomorrow you and I are going to see The Eye. I expect you to be in the common room for breakfast at seven am.” I blinked at him.
“The Eye?” I asked, but he had disappeared as quickly as he appeared. I was left to deal with one pissed-off shifter.
7
Making it through the rest of the day without alcohol was excruciating. Not only was I forced to endure the hangover from my six-day bender, but I had nothing to distract me from my own thoughts. Rycon had left in a rage almost immediately after his throat had healed and I spent most of the day in bed, staring at the ceiling trying to clear my mind.
At one point, I had gotten up and tried to distract myself by perusing the volumes stacked on the bookshelf. I ran my fingers over their spines and could barely hear their whispers over the pounding in my head.
I wasn’t sure at what point I had finally been able to drift off to sleep. I was woken up the following day by Kasha’s cheerful “Hey, hey!”
She trotted into my room, holding a very large black box. I rolled over groggily, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Was it morning again already?
“Morning, sorry to have to wake you, but Amon said you’re expected for breakfast, and I wanted to give you some time to get ready.”
I glared at her, but she carried on, relentlessly chipper. She placed the box she had been holding on the bed before me with a smile. “Open it!”
The box itself was matte black but the lid was stamped with glossy black lettering that read ‘The Restructium Shoppe.’ Curious as to what could possibly be in such a large box, I delicately lifted the lid. Inside was what looked like a full-body suit. It was made out of that strange metal that Amon and Kasha and The Mountain had been wearing at the docks the day they had come to fight Kieran.
“What is this?” I asked, lifting the strange material up and out of the box to examine it more closely.
“It’s armor, made out of restructium.” Kasha beamed, “Amon wants to make sure you’re as safe as possible for your trip to The Eye today, and there is nothing stronger than restructium. It is also resistant to most magicks.”
The armor was beautiful in its own way, and judging from the quality of the box it had come in, I was sure it hadn’t been cheap. However, the thought of putting on armor felt too much like I was preparing for a battle of some kind, and I was so tired of fighting.
“Get up! I’ll help you put it on. You should probably shower first though. No offense but when was the last time you washed?” I was not going to answer that question. Rude. Glaring at her again, I conceded. She was still smiling at me but was clearly here on Amon’s orders. I had a feeling that if I didn’t do what she said, she would do it for me. Whether I liked it or not.
I made my way to the bathroom and took a quick shower in the claw-footed tub. I would never admit it out loud, but the shower did make me feel better. I came out in my towel with my hair wet to find Kasha patiently waiting for me.
“Much better,” she teased as I went to the armoire and fished out a black lace thong and matching bra. I did my best to change under the towel, but Kasha politely looked away anyway. It didn’t look like she had any plans of leaving me to my own devices. I wondered if she had been told to personally escort me to the common room Amon had mentioned, whatever that was.
“Here,” she said when I was done, crouching down, pooling the armor open at her feet. “Step in and I’ll help you get into it. The first time is a little tricky, but once it bonds, you should be able to get in and out of it a lot easier by yourself.”
