Page 15 of Enemy
“Drink,” She says, pinning me with dark, kohl-lined eyes.
I don’t have a choice here, do I?
I sit down in one of the chairs and pick up the cup. The bitter, herby scent makes me wrinkle my nose, but I’m ready to take one for the team and swallow the disgusting liquid.
Prophet huffs in frustration. If he’s so eager, I would have happily shared my punishment. “Are you sure I shouldn’t drink too?”
“Leave us, son,” Brigid says. “I have a feeling this is about Road.”
Prophet pats my shoulder and reluctantly leaves. Brigid must be the only person who can tell him what to do. I hope this won’t take long. I’m still not certain what to do about Clyde, and if I am to be sure of my decision, I need time to myself, not... this.
“You’re tense,” Brigid says as she picks up the empty cup and glances inside, no doubt seeking meaning in the random assortment of dregs I’ve left at the bottom.
“Just tired,” I say, attempting to keep my thoughts blank. In case shecanread my mind. I don’t really believe it, but with Prophet treating this so seriously, I can’t help but have some of his confidence rub off on me.
She lifts her gaze to me, lowering her long lashes. “And yet you don’t seem lethargic. I’m getting a lot of nervous energy. The tea dregs are scattered, as your mind seems to be.”
“Fine,” I mumble, spreading my arms. “I messed up at the rally, and now everyone’s worried about the truce ending. I don’t even know why I did it.”
Brigid hums, and the wind chimes outside her window jingle louder. “The need for revenge is a powerful and dark force. It’s possible for it to latch on even once justice is done. It might still be attached to you, and pushed you to attack Clyde as the closest conduit for his dead brother’s soul.” She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “Or it is his unrealized need for vengeance that pulls him to you. He may not know what you did, but his blood is suggesting the answer.”
It’s mumbo jumbo, I know it. And yet, when she’s looking at me with such intense sincerity, her words send a jolt down my back. And the thought of Clyde being mystically pulled to me because I put down his older brother is weirdly hot. Even though it shouldn’t be.
“Maybe.”
She watches me for the longest moment, then glances back down into the cup. “If you do not refocus, this spirit of vengeance can infect the whole club. It’s as serious as the promise of death. There is something that gnaws at you, Road, under the tar black need for fresh violence.” Brigid closes her eyes. “Like on that day Prophet found you by the side of the road. A wolf? A black coyote? It devours your innards, and will not be chased away until you feed it something other than your soul.”
My mouth is dry as a desert. What is she saying?
A coyote eating my insides? Like what... like that longing to find a guy to fuck?
Is this fortune telling me to throw caution to the wind and see Clyde?
“So… I should stop it from… doing that? Should I let it loose?”
Brigid squeezes my hand and looks into my eyes. “Nurture it, and it will protect you from the demons. I sense… it’s not an evil creature, just lost and hungry. Don’t let it hurt you any longer.”
My throat tightens, and I tighten my fingers around hers as I lower my gaze to the wooden table. “And what if… others find out about it? What if they don’t like what I’ve let loose?”
She cocks her head at the tea dregs. “You are a Vulture. You don’t live to be liked by all. You need to make them respect your beast.”
She’s right.
Damn it.
I might not believe the dregs showed her anything, but I can’t disagree with her advice. Maybe it’s time I do something that’s just for me.
I will see Clyde Turner tonight. And this time, I won’t chicken out.
I get up with new energy pumping in my veins, but Brigid doesn’t let me leave yet, and hands me the damn cup.
“Take the tea dregs and dry them, then burn them, every last bit. You will be free of the vengeance residue and free of Clyde Turner.”
Guess she doesn’t read minds after all.
Chapter 8
Clyde
