Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,61
the glen below Caprine Hill.
“Don’t lie to me,” he grated out. “I know you’re horrified. Disgusted. I pretended to be ordinary. I held your baby niece, ate dinner with your family. You want me banished, if not destroyed.”
“I think I’ve made it clear what I want to do with you,” Sebastian said with a rueful smile. “Vesper…I’ve seen more than you imagine. And the truth is, people come in all shapes, all heritages. Monsters are more often than not one-hundred percent human, and they don’t even have the excuse of following their nature.”
This wasn’t happening. He’d fallen asleep in the tree, was dreaming this other world where he didn’t have to flee for his life. Where Sebastian was looking at him with eyes not filled with disgust or hatred.
“I lied to you,” he said, because he no longer knew how this conversation was supposed to go.
“You didn’t have to, but I understand why you did.” Sebastian took a step forward, hand held out. “Bonnie wants you to come back with me tonight. Says she’ll feel safer if you’re there. And, before you can ask why, because…Christ, Ves, you saved our lives.”
Ves swallowed heavily. “I killed a man,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian replied, not moving. “God, Ves, I’m sorry it came to that, but if it helps, you did what you had to. And I’m so glad you did.”
Ves stretched out his hand and clasped Sebastian’s. And then they were somehow, impossibly, in an embrace. He retracted his tentacles and let Sebastian hold him, as he buried his face in Sebastian’s neck and tried not to weep.
They walked back home in silence, but Ves allowed Sebastian to hold his hand the entire way, which Sebastian considered a victory.
Ves had looked so utterly wretched when Sebastian found him in the tree. And thank God he’d tried to put himself in Ves’s shoes and imagine where he might be hiding until everyone had gone to bed.
It had been worse than he’d feared. Ves thought Sebastian meant to kill him, which…well, someone had put the thought in Ves’s head, and outside of Widdershins it might have even been true. But that wasn’t fair, either. It wasn’t outsider versus lifelong denizen: some people understood the concept of family, of blood or not, and some didn’t. Surely there were people in Boston who would have embraced Ves for saving their family, and those in Widdershins who wouldn’t.
“Why are all the mirrors taken down in your rooms?” he asked, quietly enough that Ves could pretend he hadn’t heard.
Ves tipped his head back. “Mirrors are backed in silver. They show my eyes the way they truly are. Every glimpse is a reminder that I’m not human.”
He’d resumed his human guise, everything pulled in, eyes brown and round-pupiled. “Does it hurt?” Sebastian asked. “Keeping everything drawn in, I mean. Hidden.”
“Sometimes.” Ves shrugged broad shoulders. “I’m used to it.”
“You don’t have to hide within our walls,” Sebastian said. “Seriously. Helen told Bonnie she wants to grow up to be like you.”
Ves’s laugh was the bitterest Sebastian had ever heard. “This is no blessing, nothing to aspire to. It’s a curse, and I just…I just want to be rid of it.”
He’d looked magnificent, climbing down from the tree: his muscular body half exposed by his torn clothes, his eyes blazing defiance—and who really cared if they looked like goat eyes? The tentacles were strong enough to support his entire body easily, and though Sebastian had never thought himself as having an interest in inhuman anatomy, the fact they were a part of Vesper made them…intriguing.
Which, he’d just keep to himself, because saying so would be completely inappropriate. “You can tell me, if you want. But you don’t have to.”
Ves let out a long sigh. “I didn’t ask for this. I was born for a purpose, but no one ever asked me if I wanted to fulfill that purpose.”
Sebastian squeezed his fingers gently. Prompting.
“I told you my mother and grandfather were in a cult,” Ves said. “They worshipped many things, including the Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young.”
One of the Dark Young. That at least made sense now.
“Your father?” Sebastian guessed.
“No. I mean, yes, but not exactly? It’s not a ram, or a ewe. Or a goat, for that matter.” Ves shrugged. “It’s creation—pure, chaotic creation. Or so I understand; I’ve never seen it for myself.” He paused, then shook his head. “It spoke to me, though. Whispered through the blooming trees and fertile earth, the hungry calls of