The Damned (The Beautiful #2)(71)

Jae finds my gaze. “What do you intend to do with me?”

For a breath of time, I think about my uncle. Nicodemus would deal with Jae without mercy, just as he did with Nigel. He would not give Jae a chance to speak for himself.

If I could have been the one to decide, would I have listened to what Nigel had to say?

My heart is heavy when I realize I would not have cared. Nigel’s actions cost me everything. If you had asked me at the time, I would have agreed to everything that transpired. Maybe I myself would have been the one to tear Nigel limb from limb.

I was raised to believe a traitor deserves a traitor’s death.

It’s possible I might have agreed to even more violence. Perhaps to torture. I think of Ifan and the set of skills he possesses. To hurt and heal in equal measure. I wonder how often my uncle used them to his advantage. As I look at Jae and the countless scars along his face and neck, I think of what that means.

I would have supported causing pain to someone in a defenseless position. I would have relished this pain, believing it to be the righteous path. But I know what I should do, despite my desire for the twisted kind of justice my Saint Germain blood demands.

When you care about someone, they are able to hurt you.

But it is your choice whether you return the favor.

“Why did you betray us?” I ask. “Tell me everything. I swear I will listen.”

Jae’s shoulders roll forward, his long hair falling into his face. “Why do you care what I have to say? Just do what you plan to do, Sébastien.”

I consider sniping back at him. Letting the desire for pettiness win out. But that would be weak. I think of the strength it must have taken for Celine to fight for my life when no one else would. “Because I love you. You have been my brother for years. I owe us this much.”

Jae blinks once. “I was disloyal. Why not do as your God tells you? An eye for an eye. All the gods of the world would agree I deserve it.”

“That would make sense, wouldn’t it?” I say. “It would be easy. But life, even for an immortal, is not easy.” I think about what Valeria said to me. “Love and loyalty are not always the same thing. Loyalty is easy. Love is doing what is right, even when it is difficult.”

He peers at me, a strange light in his gaze. Then he leans back in his chair, wincing as the silver chains brush across his bare skin. “Even as a mortal child, I knew something about me was different. I first saw a dokkaebi the spring of my sixth year. It was nighttime in Busan. The smell of the sea was strong. The sprite came to me from the water. It looked like a child my age, with hair the color of the moon and skin the color of a summer sky. It smiled at me. I followed it into the water and nearly drowned in the waves.

“When I told my mother what happened, she did not believe me. She said I should never speak of such things again, or people would think me possessed by a demon. From that night on, the fey never left me alone. They continued beckoning me closer. I became obsessed with following one to its home, so that I might catch it and make it do my bidding. I’d read somewhere that there were certain kinds of fairy creatures who could grant wishes.” His eyes still on the carpeted floor. Even Hortense listens, her expression rapt. “But they would always vanish into the mist, through tears in the world I could never see.

“One day on the eve of my eleventh year,” Jae continues, “I was walking along the beach alone when a chollima galloped toward me, its wings whiter than a cloud and its hooves kicking up gold dust. I said nothing, but I knew to grab hold of its mane and hoist myself onto its back. It took me to the land of the Sylvan Vale. You can only imagine what I saw and experienced. Fruit with nectar sweeter than honey, collected from a forest of nettles and thorns. A world that shimmered on the edges. Flowers that blossomed to life before my eyes, their centers cut from yellow sapphires, ready to slice open your skin at the first touch.

“This was the first day I met Lady Silla. From then on, the chollima would come for me once a year on my birthday, and I would spend an afternoon with the fey. It was in the Sylvan Vale that I first learned of my skill with weapons. It was there that I began training to become an assassin. Time passed, and I saw myself growing older each year, while those among the fey remained the same. When I turned sixteen, I begged Lady Silla to give me the power to stay young always. She refused. I swore fealty to her. I asked her what it was she wanted. She said there was nothing she could desire from a mere mortal. But I continued asking, again and again. Two years later, she said she wished to bring an end to the enmity between those of the Sylvan Vale and those of the Sylvan Wyld. I asked what the Wyld was, and she said it was the Vale’s counterpoint. The darkness held against the light. The shadow cast by the sun. I recalled my mother explaining the difference between yin and yang—the necessary balance between the two—and I thought I understood. Though I’d never been there, I thought the Wyld to be a world littered with bloodthirsty monsters, poisonous glasswing butterflies, and giants carved from ice who would tear out the trees by their roots.”

Jae pauses as if mulling over his next words. “I believed everything I was told by those in the Vale. Everything Lady Silla said. I did not waver when I said I would do whatever I could to bring about peace between the Summer Court of the Vale and the Winter Court of the Wyld. She informed me where I might find Nicodemus, who was the direct descendant of the last Lord of the Wyld. I was told to become useful to him. To make myself invaluable, in the hope he would one day trust me.” A bitter smile curls up his face. “I did even better than that. After several years of proving myself indispensable, I convinced him to make me one of his children. Finally I had what I wanted: the chance to be immortal.” His expression sobers. “Fool that I was, I did not understand the price.”