Dark Kings (Feathers and Fate #1) - Sadie Moss Page 0,72
Morrigan and me. Remington’s on my right side still, already standing, but he takes a small step toward me as well, making it clear that he’s ready to attack Morrigan again if she tries anything.
Phoenix walks past Morrigan, nodding at Beckett, but he doesn’t walk all the way over. He puts himself in between Morrigan and me too.
My stomach flips.
They’re just protecting their asset, I tell myself. I’m an asset, like stocks in a company. I’m not a person to them. Not in the same way.
Maybe if I keep telling myself this, I’ll believe it—although honestly, I’m not sure what I believe anymore.
“Now, now, my boys. You needn’t get yourselves in a tangle. All is well.” Morrigan smiles and tilts her head at us. “I have given your brother the charm, and you have the body. If you use the charm, infused with power as I have made it, you will be able to command the body to undo what it did. It will seal the portal, just as it once opened it. Do you understand?”
“Yes. We know our way around magic and demons, witch,” Beckett says a trifle impatiently, like he’s finally at the end of a board meeting and he wants to hurry up and get this over with.
Morrigan nods. “To be sure, to be sure. Then you’ll know how to go about it.”
“Great. We’re leaving.” Ford gives us all a get up, get going gesture, fury still flashing in his eyes.
Remington holds out his hand and I take it, letting him help me to my feet. Beckett puts his hand on my lower back, and between the two of them, I feel steady.
Phoenix turns to head out, but he stops when it becomes obvious that Ford isn’t quite ready to leave yet.
The blond-haired brawler takes a step toward Morrigan instead, his voice lowering dangerously. “Listen to me, witch. If you even think about screwing her over, we’re going to fuckin’ destroy you. We were old before you existed, and we’re gonna be around long after you turn to fuckin’ dust. You think all your fuckin’ toying with death is gonna save you from Wrath itself? I got Death’s number on speed dial, you get me? We’re poker buddies. I beat the shit out of him for fun on Saturdays.”
His words are kind of trashy, the sort of words that you would expect to hear between two wrestlers before they go after each other, all for show.
But his body language is anything but that.
He looks like he’s living up to his sin once again, rage taut in the lines of his body. His muscles are tense, his shoulders drawn back a bit, his fists clenched and out from his sides like he’s ready to punch her or wrap a hand around her throat.
Despite her nonchalant attitude when we first arrived, Morrigan looks honestly terrified now.
I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want all of that aggression directed at me. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to Ford’s rage, or if I’ll always feel it like it’s the first time, surprising and a bit scary. I wonder if I’ll ever feel completely safe around him.
Truthfully, in the moment when I woke up to see Ford and the others gazing down at me and realized they’d rescued me from Morrigan, I felt like maybe I could be safe with him. He seemed to care so deeply, and to be so full of wrath on my behalf. I didn’t mind his anger at all in that moment.
But then he turned away, dismissive of me, almost irritated at me—not quite angry, or at least not yet, but definitely annoyed with me in some way. Or maybe not annoyed, but unsettled.
And just like that, the moment was gone.
Ford nods curtly at Morrigan, a satisfied look on his face. He gets pleasure out of scaring people with his wrath, I realize. It’s… disconcerting. Although at least Morrigan has been put in her place. Maybe this will make her think twice before trying to steal someone’s blood next time. I don’t like the idea of scaring anyone, or hurting people who aren’t the corrupted, but she did pretty much try to kill me.
Beckett and Remington are still sandwiching me, and I fall into step between them as we head out, glancing back at Morrigan. Ford has moved away from her, hefting the demon body over his shoulder as he joins Phoenix to bring up the rear of our little group.