Page 100 of Xerxes Ascendant
“You have no idea how often I’ve dreamed of it, boy,” Akira called back with a smile that was struggling to be contained. Misha’s face appeared between the rails of the staircase, grinning with good humour.
“I’ve missed you,” he said fondly to him, and then he looked over at Kyle and formed a heart with his thumbs and forefingers. “Thank you for bringing him back.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Akira asked in exasperation, not having had the benefit of Kyle and Misha’s earlier conversation about Bastard Master versus his Slightly-Less-So version when he was receiving the benefit of Kyle’s...uh, affections.
“It’s sticky,” Miles said distastefully, holding up a splayed hand to show them how glitter clung to his fingers and palm. “How is glittersticky?”
Kyle was fairly sure that was one of glitter’s most innate qualities, but they were also standing in a brothel, so...
“I’ve found many things hang around this House that are not wanted,” Akira said to him coldly. Miles flinched – as did Kyle – but didn’t crumple into pieces like he’d expected. The man’s shoulders dipped, withdrawing into himself, but when he glanced at Kyle he seemed to find the courage to straighten back up.
“I’ll stay out of your way. But I appreciate being given this job.”
Hah. Even nasty, mean Epsilon couldn’t continue to pile on the snide comments after that. Akira’s jaw worked, and Kyle could practically hear him grinding his teeth.
“It was not my decision to employ you. I have not forgotten what you attempted to do to the man I love.”
Miles’ gaze flickered with surprise. He looked at Kyle again, this time unsure.
“Hi,” said Kyle brightly, offering a little wave. “I believe that might be me.”
“I don’t...”
“Don’t like being told no,” Akira finished for him. “And I’m supposed to believe that you no longer harbour ill intent towards Kyle for doing so?”
Miles’ slowly formed smile held no humour. “I harbour it significantly more for my prick of a brother.”
Akira considered him, cocking his head. “That, I accept,” he conceded, evidently recognising the hatred burning behind the Upper’s clenched jaw and how his fingers dug into the sheets. “You’ll do me the courtesy of notifying me if it ever changes, so I can stop you before you hurt any of my men.”
Miles, despite himself, let out a small snorting laugh. “Yeah, I can do that.”
He’d regained his confidence over the last few days, transformed from the meek and subdued shell he’d been that night in the showers, when he was so lost and beaten down – emotionally as well as physically – that he’d been desperate enough to reach out to an enemy for help. Miles was now more like his old self, hints of that Mackenroth arrogance peeking through, but reassuringly humbler. He’d shown none of the casual cruelty or assumed entitlement he’d displayed when Kyle had first met him, nor as much childish petulance when he didn’t get his own way.
He had…dare Kyle say it? Matured? Learning your brother was a murdering, ruthless psychopath and being cast into poverty for calling him on it was certainly a growth experience.
Miles pursed his lips. “They say youwalkedback from Upper Xerxes,” he said sceptically to him and Akira. “I’ve seen the beams that connect those parts of the city: they’re barely wide enough to stand on, and wobbly is a damn understatement. How did you do it?”
Kyle was not going to speak of the sacred, intimate trust between the pair of them to this man. He didn’t need to know about Kyle commanding Akira’s steps, or Akira pulling him to safety, or the way they’d both been prepared to die together when Theta had confronted them.
“Having no other choice helped,” he said instead, grinning to defuse the sombre mood that had begun to gather over the three of them. “When your whole life is on the other side, it’s not a question of how...it justis. So we made it happen.”
“I see. And why the fuck didn’t you kill my asshole brother while you were-”
“Oi!” Kyle yelled at Ben, lunging after his lean form as he skulked past them and headed into the shower room. “No leather in the showers!”
He caught the brat with his hand an inch from the tap, latching uncompromising fingers through the offending leather harness and yanking him back by it. Ben yelped.
“You get this wet,” Kyle warned, giving it another rough tug, “and you’ll be the one having to oil it back up to prevent the leather cracking. Do you have any idea how expensive these are?”
Stars, he sounded like Master Epsilon.
Ben looked up over his shoulder at him, his face sulky. “I can’t get it off on my own,” he complained.
“So ask for help,” said Kyle, and positioned Ben in front of him so he could reach the buckles on the boy’s back, freeing him from the body harness. Then he pushed the tangle of leather and metal into his hands. “Go clean it and put it away.”
“Yes, Sir,” Ben said with a dramatic sigh and roll of his eyes.
Kyle delivered a firm slap to his thigh. “Go.”
