Blakeshire (Insight #9)(12)
Draven had told me more than once, with Aden backing him up, that Britain was an addict. That he was addicted to energy and was using me to heed that craving. Of course, at the time I thought that my best friends were trying to hook me up with the fated king, Drake—the boy that should have been mine but decided to chase Willow Haywood instead.
I rebounded hard off Drake right into the cold arms of Britain, which is an odd thing to say considering that in this life I have known Drake for all of one week and Britain for the better part of six months. What can I say? Those dreams with Drake were more than lucid as far as I was concerned; they were really real—not the dark reality I lived in.
Britain tensed when he realized I had put a wall up, that I was not giving him the pleasure of seeing me break apart over him. I’m sure he thought he meant more to me than what I was portraying. Truth was, I was mad, furious, enraged, but not hurt. I was not broken into a thousand pieces, like I should be if I cared about him. Basically, I was humiliated.
“That’s not what I meant,” he mumbled humbly as he reached for his shirt and began to button it slowly, stopping halfway up, leaving the better part of his chest still exposed. “You feel me. You have felt my agony, my longing, and you didn’t come—you only came when you felt my anticipation, the way your nature stated you would.”
“Wasn’t my idea to come here,” I said flatly.
Which was the truth. It was Charlie’s bright idea to show up there. I admit I was looking forward to seeing him, that I was testing myself, testing my resolve. At that point, I had been face-to-face with Drake a few times, felt my soul losing control in his presence. I thought by seeing Britain that the natural born loyalty built into Scorpios would kick in and I would come to my senses and see that I had started something with Britain that deserved a chance to become something more.
I mean, hell, he may be dark, may have blinded Charlie, even tried to hook up with her, but he didn’t mistake me for another girl, so until that moment he still had a mark in the win column as far as I was concerned.
His eyes grew wide for an instant, as if my words had stung him. “So he’s bewitched you already? Hats off to him; it took him less than three days.”
One reason Britain and I got along so well was that we were both jealous souls, both obsessive over what had our attention. And I thought we were both loyal.
“I haven’t seen him.” That was a lie. I’d saved Drake’s life. I’d kissed him; well, he kissed me. We had even had our own little argument before those kids knocked me out, but that was beside the point. Right then, I was trying to make Britain look like the bastard in this situation.
“DON’T.” He halted, taking the growl out of his voice. “Lie to me. I saw you. I saw you talking to him under the night sky.”
My eyes narrowed as he spoke. The reason I had to be knocked out in the first place by those kids was that Bianca had mirrored one of Monroe’s brothers and followed us to Chara. She attacked us, but apparently before that she did a little recon work for Britain.
“Obviously, your spy neglected to supply you with dialogue, and if she did and you still acted this way, shame on you. This. This is over,” I swore.
“It’s over when I say it is,” he seethed.
That was exactly the wrong thing to say to me. “You have no control or claim over me. I was a means to an end. That’s clear now,” I said so calmly that you would have thought I was quitting a job, not a relationship.
“She was nourishment!” he yelled.
“Nourishment?” I said mockingly. “If Willow’s power is fading that quickly within your system, then I suggest you accept the grave because there is no hope for you.”
While I was searching for Willow’s beloved, Landen, along with Drake in The Realm, Britain had tried to stop Willow himself. He was convinced that she was using me as a martyr. Of course, as soon as Willow fed this addict he backed away.
I could see him questioning how I knew that had happened, if I had developed a friendship with Willow, but I hadn’t. I’m just obsessive. I took in everything that Draven had seen on his side of that fight. I admit, it ticked me off that Britain was that easily controlled. Weak men are really not my type.
“You, you are my hope.”
That was always his line. He’d told me that a thousand times over. Apparently, in some past life I killed Escorts; some things never change. But I couldn’t kill him. Something stopped me then, and it stopped me in this life, too. What that something is, I don’t know. But according to Britain, we were meant to be. If I stayed at his side he could control his addiction and help me end all those that hurt others—all the ‘misguided’ Escorts.
“No,” I said flatly. I never agreed with that line, and I wasn’t going to buy it now.
“Listen to me.” He stepped forward, but I threw my energy up into a wall between us, not letting him get close to me.
Britain let out a gasp. “Willow’s energy is not what I want. All I have ever wanted was your energy, and I plan to do what I have to in order to make that a reality.”
Yeah, right. I’m sure he said something fairly similar to Charlie when he was after her. He was a player. I guess it was time to show him that in order to play the game the right way, he would have to find a fool—and a fool is something that I am not. “So your excuse for seducing another woman is because you had to—to help me. Save it for the next fool you find,” I said with a sarcastic grin.