Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,41
about that. The Olympians had too much of an advantage in numbers, and they would wipe us all out. Cyrus might not be eager to start that war, but not eager wasn’t the same as not willing. Konstantin had laid off Anderson and his Liberi because he knew that Anderson was capable of killing him, and that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. Taking that thought to its logical conclusion . . .
“We’d have leverage if you’d let Cyrus know what you are, and what you can do.”
I’d tried to broach this subject any number of times since I’d learned Anderson’s secret, and he had always shut me down fast and hard. He’d even threatened to kill me—and whoever I told—if I revealed what I knew. I didn’t think he was bluffing, but I couldn’t for the life of me understand why he wasn’t willing to reveal the deadly weapon that could act as a powerful deterrent and give us a leg up on the Olympians. It felt kind of like we had a nuclear bomb but didn’t want anyone, not even our own people, to know it.
“I think I’ve made it perfectly clear that that is not an option,” Anderson said in a low and menacing voice. “You’d be wise never to bring it up again.”
I felt like grabbing him and shaking him. I couldn’t think of a single reason why we shouldn’t use his special power to our advantage. He obviously wasn’t shy about using it, at least not when nobody but me could see. I’d already seen him kill three Liberi.
“I know you want me to shut up about it,” I continued. “But letting Cyrus know you have the power to kill him might be the only way to motivate him to—”
“Enough!” Anderson pushed back his chair and practically jumped to his feet. His expression was dangerous enough that I stood, too, and took a couple of hasty steps back.
Anderson stepped around his desk, but instead of coming toward me, he stalked toward the study door and banged it shut, turning a dead-bolt lock I’d never noticed before. He swiveled toward me, and I made sure there was a chair between us. It wouldn’t slow him down much, but it was better than nothing.
“What’s it going to take to keep you quiet, Nikki?” He took a step toward me, and I took a corresponding step back as he raised his right hand. The Hand of Doom.
My heart was slamming in my chest, my every nerve on red alert, but frankly, I was getting sick to death of being bullied. I wanted to shout out my rage, but I shoved a muzzle and leash on my temper. If I wasn’t careful, I could end up dead, or wishing I were dead, in no time flat.
“You could try explaining why you’re so dead set against anyone knowing,” I said.
Anderson blinked like he was startled. I guess he’d expected me to back down in the face of his threat. And why shouldn’t he expect that? It’s what I’d always done before.
“Innocent people’s lives are at stake,” I reminded him. “People are getting hurt, getting killed, losing everything they own, all because one of Cyrus’s people has some psychotic vendetta against me. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything in my power and explore every possible way to make it stop. Even if it means pissing you off yet again. I don’t get why—”
“If I tell you why it’s imperative that the truth doesn’t get out, will you promise to stop asking questions?”
It was my turn to be startled. I don’t know where I was expecting the conversation to go, except that it wasn’t here. Anderson was actually backing down? It seemed impossible, and I was immediately wary.
“So after all the huffing and puffing, you’re just going to give up and tell me?”
“I’ll tell you what could happen if the truth got out. The answer won’t satisfy your curiosity, and you’ll want to ask me ten million questions in search of more details. You must swear to me that you won’t ask even one, no matter how curious you are. Not now, not ever.”
Scant seconds ago, I’d been in fight-or-flight mode, sure this conversation was going to end with something ugly. Now I felt like I was going to explode with curiosity. Nothing like telling me I’m not allowed to ask questions to make me desperate to ask questions.