suck air in.
“Why do you value money so much anyway?” Jacob asked him. “What intrinsic value does it even have?”
The president shook his head. “It gives structure to a society. Everyone has their place within it, and it ensures that all jobs are filled.”
Jacob shrugged. “And yet we only need it when we venture into the human world. Otherwise, we pool our food and materials, and there’s never an issue.”
The president didn't seem to understand, his eyes wide and glassy.
"If someone doesn't have a house," I said, "then the community builds them one. If someone needs food, they grow or find it somewhere and share. It's not always perfect, but it's as close as I've ever seen."
"Wh—where do you get the money for the human world then?" he choked out. "Do some of you work with humans and send it all back?"
Jacob seemed to be searching for patience, his voice curt. "No, our communities are rich because we live for a long time, and most of us invested early in land, stocks, minerals, and commodities. Those who struck gold, so to speak, share with those who didn’t. Some of our demi-fey are keen miners, and in doing the very thing they love, they happened to make us all wealthy. In human terms anyway."
One of the president's bodyguards snorted, and it was such a break from their normal silent invisible character that all of us turned to look at him. He didn't lift the dark glasses when he said, "I find it hard to believe that you share that much wealth around. Surely the ones who initially discovered the gold prefer to keep it for themselves."
Jacob just shook his head. "The reason you don't understand is the reason you have so many people suffering in your country. I can't explain greed to those who see it as success."
You could have knocked me down with a feather. I can't explain greed to those who see it as success.
My God. How did someone who looked twenty-five speak like he was Yoda reincarnated.
And why did I like it so much?
The car moved faster once we were out of the airport and on the main road. I focused on the world outside my window. "Whoa," I said softly. Jacob pushed in closer to my side to see from his position in the center seat.
War zone was an understatement.
The world here was rubble and dirt and death. I could almost smell it, even though the air in the car was clear of any discernable scent. But it was one of those images that was so strong, it was more than visual.
"This is the outskirts of Damascus," the president said. "There were some recent bombings in this area, so we won't linger, but it should be safer in the city."
I turned to Jacob, wondering if he was concerned with this information, but he looked relaxed as always. Clearly, the possibility of being bombed wasn't a worry, so I followed his lead. If there was one thing I knew about the Compasses, it was that they took their pack and families’ safety seriously. Through Grace, I was an outer member of their group; Jacob would protect me if shit hit the fan.
It wasn't a bad family to be part of. That was for sure. Even if I was, as always, just on the outside looking in.
7
Jacob Compass
Humans were fucking idiots.
Nothing was changing my mind about this, and if anything, the president and his pretend "concern" for his brethren was only making it worse.
War was ugly, and it was heartbreaking, and it was often preventable. Not that supes were completely innocent—we craved and worshipped power too much, but we were trying to be better. Sometimes you got points for trying.
Humans could really use some points.
Justice continued to press her face to the window, lines of sorrow crossing her forehead and cheeks. It was a heart-wrenching sight, even once we moved past the desolate rubble of the outer areas. The city itself was mostly still intact, but it painted a bleak picture. People scurried about and I could feel the vibrations of fear in the air. This was not a place I’d want to live, and the fact that some humans were stuck here at the mercy of those in power stirred darker emotions inside.
I mourned for them.
As my anger and sorrow grew in equal parts, I felt my brothers hovering on the edge of our bond, offering their support. I'd sent them a text before we left, so they