Storm Brew

It was a familiar sensation...

The feel in my tongue—dry—like cotton. Glued eyelids... I'd found myself feeling just like this about four months ago when I'd woken up in Nathaniel's car.

Nate's car.

I winced and it wasn't because someone shook me brutally, it was because I recalled witnessing the black Mustang blown to bits. Remembered Nate's sad face like someone had beaten him senseless. He'd called it his 'baby' once; I'd thought it was hilarious—now I knew he had loved that car.

I felt cool hands on my arms—the feel almost reminded me of Nate's.

I drew away.

The hair was dark blond and short cropped, not wavy. The eyes were a faint hue of blue. The face was ample, strong, good-looking—but probably thirty. The scar on his forehead was the only thing marring the man's face.

"Someone finally decided to wake up." He called, not loudly, in a smirking fashion. "She doesn't look too thrilled, though."

My beating heart was irregular. My eyes were wild, dribbling basket balls. The air was damp; we weren't in the desert anymore, not even outside.

I heard hollow steps coming our way. Riley's short hair bounced, the highlights not as noticeable as in the daylight.

"I was starting to think you were faking it, little sister." I thought about spatting a curse when she called me that, but since I knew nothing of my situation—only that it wasn't good—I kept my mouth shut. "It's been an hour since the boys woke up. Aric's been quiet, the other one... he's been cursing us and everything else in the world. I think it's because we kept you out here." She used the young-man's shoulder for support, placing her arm on it.

I took another glance around. It wasn't pitch black, but it felt like I was in a castle's dungeon. The walls were black, the ground was compacted dirt and the ceiling was tall, arched in Gothic style.

I was out in a hall, leaning against a wall.

How nice.

"Where's here, exactly?" I asked without giving it a second thought.

Riley and the guy shared a brief look, until he smiled widely with amusement.

"Isn't she curious?" he laughed, until Riley shrugged.

"Curiosity killed the cat. Though, I have to give her props for not stuttering." My eyes didn't want to stop on her for too long, or on the stranger.

I was afraid something in this place would bite my head off if I stared for more than five minutes straight.

Riley didn't look crazy like Drew had, she was a little like Anna—only not on my side which was very bad.

"You're in one of our many safe houses. We're in the underground level where all the wicked things go down." She patted the guy's chest. "This is Jensen," he made a mock bow as Riley introduced him. "He's going to be your... caretaker while you're staying here. So there isn't any confusion, sis, you're staying here until we get our hands on that little flash drive. You know, the one you gave to your friend?" she paused gazing down with intent. I kept quiet and still. Did she really think I'd say where Anna went with the thing? "Jensen is going to make sure you and the boys don't get too comfortable." A smile lit her face. "Now that the introductions are out of the way—"

Jensen came forth, yanking me from the dirty floor. My legs felt sluggish, dormant as the rest of my body. Faintly, a click drifted from behind. My wrists were being held by handcuffs.

"Gentle, or she won't last the first round, Jensen." That made my cheeks burn. She was saying I couldn't handle rough—if the cuffs were off I'd show her rough. "Like I was saying," she leaned her face to mine. "It's time to meet dear old Dad."

Shivers crawled from head-to-feet. Jensen motioned me forward, down the hall towards an open elevator. There definitely weren't any of these in castle dungeons.

My stomach was behaving like an yo-yo. Plummeting, and coming up strongly. I was going to vomit the breakfast I hadn't eaten.

Riley wasn't far from us. I couldn't stop glaring at everything when we made it out of the elevator. It opened up to an outdoor garden; in its middle, was built a fantastic pool. The ground under our feet was replaced by white, tarnished marble. The plants consisted of palm-trees and other exotic plants such as those. Everything seemed tidy.

Jensen drove me close to the pool, where other Order members held two people just as he was holding my arms.

It didn't take me long to understand who those people were.

They lined me up at Nate's side. Our gazes met and twined. I could see his broad shoulders relaxing, to anyone else, it would go unnoticed, but not to me. I knew how to analyze every movement. I could tell how glad he felt for seeing me awake and alive.

The beating muscle in my chest quieted down once I saw they weren't harmed any worse. From the corner of his eye—Aric—checked up on me. I would have given him a thankful smile for worrying, but judging their apathetic expressions, this wasn't a place to show emotion.

"Where are you hopping off to?" Aric questioned as Riley walked away into what I assumed to be a garage.

She spun on her heel, colored hair flicking to her cheeks.

"As much as I'd love to sit through this heart-wrecking family reunion, I can't. I'm needed somewhere else." A dark shadow crossed her eyes, they moved over all of us, before going back to her older brother.

"Where? In hell?" Aric taunted with a cock of his eyebrow.

She faked a laugh, rolling her eyes.

"I'm coming back for the show, so no worries, brother. I'll have plenty to cheer through." Riley bit with disdain, her legs carrying her the rest of the way, not until Aric got the last word, though.

"Bring me a post card, then!" He yelled with bitter humor.

There was no reply but the steady motor of a car.

We were left with our captors. I could barely move my arms apart. When I looked at Nate, then at Aric, I saw they were dealing with the same trouble. We weren't getting out these handcuffs unless they took them off, or if we pulled a Houdini act.

Jensen, and the guy holding Nate at bay, were the youngest. Aric seemed to have gotten an older guy, maybe more experienced.

I didn't know when he came in, not even from where, really. But I knew who he was when he showed up. Maybe because of the distinctive cut of his features. He had the chin and bone-cheek structure Aric would have in twenty-some years. The forehead was wider, like Nolan's had been, the eyebrows thin, dark hair like Aric's and... the eyes.

They were my eyes.

My Mother's eyes had been crystal-blue, much brighter than mine. I'd always thought my eyes were darker because of my Father's deep brown irises, but as it turned out... George Sullivan wasn't my biological Father.

Vincent King, the man passing Nate—on his way to Aric—was.

His shirt was navy, not a wrinkle on it. The jeans were almost as dark as the shirt, the black shoes didn't help. Everything about him screamed power, money and danger.

Aric wasn't fidgeting under the taut gaze. He stared right back, not wavering for a second.

"Hello, Aric." His voice wasn't like Aric's. It was rustic, older and deeper.

I never saw it coming, no one did. We all saw Aric getting his arms loose—a sick crack later, the man who'd been securing him crashed to the ground—then, Aric's fist met Vincent's face.

"Michael," Vincent called, a little too calmly for someone who'd just gotten punched and staggered back a step.

Immediately, the man who'd been waiting by the elevator like a guard dog, restrained my half-brother. Me and Nate watched helplessly as Aric's bleeding hands and wrists were tied with thick rope instead of handcuffs, and when that didn't stop his struggles a zapping sound, along with a blue spark happened.

He strove to stabilize his breathing, still facing his Father. Vincent glanced down to where both the man—with a broken knee—and the handcuffs—sleek with blood—laid. I had no idea how Aric had done it, it'd been impressive and disgustingly painful.

"Nice punch, it's good to see you've improved." Vincent's lips didn't form a smirk, it could be heard in his voice, though.

"Ha," Aric chuckled tilting his head. "I'm glad I did, someone had to, because you haven't changed. You still rely on your lap-dogs to do your work for you—like a coward." He hunched his shoulders trying to shake off Michael, who got a better grip on his arms.

"I haven't been the one running for the last eleven years." Vincent took a step closer to his struggling son. "You were the one that up and left instead of facing things like a man."

Aric let the comment slip without a verbal retaliation, still, his jaw flexed.

"You've been keeping tabs of the years I've been away? I'm touched, really."

Vincent kicked the bloodstained handcuffs into the pool without a care.

"It's a shame you didn't skin that attitude and gained a new one in Australia." He tapped the side of Aric's face, sneering.

He jerked away, "Well, yeah, I decided to skin only the scars on my back if that's okay. I know how you went through so much trouble for me to have them." My mouth opened, and Nate's eyes slitted with confusion. Neither of us had ever seen scars on Aric—not even Anna. "Australia was the only place with enough sun to cover them up, and being far away from you was a bonus. It was therapeutic." His jesting grin didn't waver once as he went on. "I even got to kill a shark. Good times."

Vincent got a good grip on his son's black hair, tugging his head to a painful angle. His face was cold, having lost any trace of amusement.

"Don't take that tone with me, boy. I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it." The threat made my heart skip a beat.

Aric cleared his throat in shape of a gasp.

"Isn't that what you've been trying to do since I was born?" His emerald gaze pierced Vincent's with no fear, in fact, there was a changeling edge to them. "You love being the big bad wolf, but I'm not—" Aric's words were cut off by a shove to the head.

"If I ask you for the flash drive's whereabouts...?" Vincent wiped the hand he'd used to touch Aric's hair, on his leg.

"Screw you, you sick son of a bitch." He ground, heaving a bitter laugh at the end.

Vincent's eyebrows creased in exasperation.

"Of course," he muttered, before moving to stand in front of Nate—Nate who was rock-still. "You're a ticking time bomb." Vincent commented facing my boyfriend dead-on.

He was right, I'd give him that. Nate was calm as a pond before a tsunami came and wrecked everything.

Nathaniel 1.0.1: deadly explosive alert.

"I'm sure we'll find a way to defuse you." And now I would've laughed. No one could put Nate's fire out.

"You killed my Mother." Nate stated in the deepest, coldest monotone ever.

It was the only thing he said and it was enough to show how strongly he hated the man in front of him.

"We'll see," Vincent remained straight-faced not bothering to deny it, proving he knew who Nathaniel was.

When my turn rolled around, I wanted to curse my choice. Though, I knew it had been the right thing to do. I couldn't have sacrificed my friendship or my Mother's life's work. I'd given them both a chance.

Vincent wasn't taller than Aric, I shouldn't feel intimidated. I just couldn't help the cold sweat dripping along my back. This was my Mother's assaulter, the man she hated and had devoted her life to stop. She had worked her ass off, risked her life to end his organization and life as he knew it.

I had to stay strong.

"Don't touch me," I surprised myself, automatically snapping as his hand made a move forward. "You're a sick bastard and I want you the hell away from me." Nate kept his gaze branded on me, I felt it. Probably channeling a telepathic "shut up" to me.

Vincent's smirk showed up for a second as he looked towards Aric.

"Looks like she rubbed off on her big brother, what a shame." I controlled my breathing. "I remember your Mother. She was beautiful, smart, feisty—she'd just finished College when I met her. Twenty-three I think," made sense, she'd been a month away from being twenty-four when she had me. "You're a lot like her, not just in looks." He smiled—to my surprise it didn't feel freaky, it looked pleasant and annoyed me greatly. "I know you gave that girl the flash drive. I know why you did it, it's a nice plan—or it was. You didn't think through what came next, did you?" I swallowed chancing a glance at Nathaniel, searching for some type of reassurance. "What do you think will happen if you refuse to tell me where she is?"

Vincent didn't like Aric's attitude. I called it defiance and that was something I'd been developing very well thus far.

A snap went off.

"I told you I wanted you away from me."

Vincent wiped the spit from his cheek dodging my furtive gaze before backhanding me. My head turned abruptly. My cheek burned. All I could do was hold my chin high, ignoring the snickers. That was exactly what I did.

Nate stiffened in place looking like he could tear Vincent apart with his eyes.

"Like I said, just like your Mom." Vincent added cruelly. "Take them to the cell. Jensen, you know what to do."

"Yes, sir, it'll be a pleasure." I heard Aric scoff.

***

After throwing me inside the cellar, Jensen slipped the metal lock into place.

Jensen walked off and I took in our surroundings. It was a quadrangular room, with thick rock walls. A small, barred window perched above the outstanding door. It was the only form of looking outside to the damp hallway I'd woken up in. The door was made of dense, strong and resistant wood.

I was expected Nate to embrace me or cup my cheek because I was used to him fussing over me—but he made no move towards me.

He slid down, prepared to wait patiently for whatever was to come. I bit my lip. He was probably angry because of what I'd chosen, but right now, my head hadn't enough stamina to fight. Instead, I glanced to Aric who was still bound by rope. They had taken our cuffs off, since the only way out of here was through the behemoth door.

Sighing softly, I knelt in front of my brother grabbing the edges of the rope, undoing the knots. Aric's hands were blood smeared, his wrists bared more than scratches. The cuts ran deep; in some places the skin was red meat.

I scrunched my nose.

"I can do it," he murmured spotting my queasy face.

I shook my head.

"It's fine," I whispered not meeting his eyes. "I'm okay,"

"Your lip is bleeding, luv."

I stopped working, chancing licking my lower lip—and cringed. I did my best to ignore the metallic taste. How hadn't I noticed a busted lip? Maybe because the intense flare in my skin was still going strong.

"These look really bad." I informed when the bindings finally fell.

Aric turned his wrists over, once, twice—taking in the disaster they'd become thanks to his amazing but stupid act. He gingerly lowered his arms to his lap.

"Thank you," he said, our eyes meeting. "Don't worry, it's not the end of the world. They'll get better if we ever get out of here."

I could have lived without that last part. Getting up, I turned to see Nate leaning his head the wall across from us.

His eyes found me and I couldn't explain how worn he appeared. Nate a hand down his face.

"Are you going to talk with me at all?" I asked after two minutes of silence and staring.

Nathaniel's head turned to the side, tilting, and finally he let out a sigh as his expression transformed into one of the anger and unbelievability.

"Talk—and tell you what? That you're a brain-dead moron?" he screamed getting up with a repressed groan, towering in front of me, arms at his side. "I've been thinking that for an hour. Because I just can't understand what you did, what possessed you to do something so reckless. I thought you were smart, Melissa." Nate gritted as I clenched my lips, feeling the split lip ache.

"Anna was shot. She was bleeding badly, I couldn't just let her die!" I retorted. "And if she got on the chopper without the flash drive they would've taken it from me and killed us. I had to give it to her—they need us so they won't kill us, not yet. We still have a shot."

Nate smiled bitterly.

"You should've gotten on that helicopter."

"And you would be dead—all of you would. There was no way you'd make it to the chopper without getting shot. I couldn't let that happen." I crossed my arms, stuffing down tears. "Parker already died because of this and he had nothing to do with it. I couldn't let her die—or you." I looked over my shoulder to Aric who breathed out. My head spun to Nate once again. "I couldn't lose you." I whispered.

Nate backed up from my approaching hand.

"You'd be okay with sacrificing yourself, Anna and Aric for me?" I deadpanned dropping the hand.

His brandy eyes slit and his nostrils flared with fury.

"Yes, if that meant you were safe and sound right now, I would." Nathaniel stared me down, inches away. "Because you know what I am?" he pointed an index finger to himself. "Selfish," Nate drew out. "I would've gladly let Anna die for your sake. If I had been the one making the choice I would've chosen you—no question, no hesitation!"

"And Anna would be dead—"

"But you would be safe. You wouldn't be in here." His arms gestured around. My face must've looked slapped at his words. "Don't wait for an apology on this."

"I'm just supposed to accept that you would rather die, than having me here with you? You expect me to be okay with that?"

Nate shrugged with a nonchalant attitude.

"I don't know what to expect from you. Seeing as you have a strange impulse to make choices that get you in danger." I whipped my eyes away. "Just know I'm not apologizing."

I shook my head, feeling his eyes lingering on my back for a while.

"I'm not apologizing either." I blew out a breath taking a seat near the door.

Just what I needed. A fight with Nate while we were inside this hell hole. It made my heart twist and I didn't know how I should deal with his words, with the confession he'd just made. I'd expected him to say something similar—but to hear it out loud... It rattled my emotions.

He'd rather die than have me here.

I tipped my head into the hard, cold wall eyes closed, trying to forget about my aching head.

It was very difficult to keep track of time down here, and so, when the door wrenched open my eyes popped, startled.

How long had they'd been closed? I couldn't even tell if I'd gotten some sleep in me.

Jensen strolled inside, he wasn't the only one. There was another one trailing—and one at the door. My attention was pulled to the end of the cellar when Nate was hauled against his will. He swung at the older male and groaned, as electricity jolted through his abdomen. That's what they'd used on Aric—a taser stick.

The other one helped Jensen carrying him out of the cell. I gripped the window bars, blinking away tears. What if they killed him, what if I was wrong? What if—

"They won't kill him," Aric's velvet voice fluttered. My legs shakily took me to where he was. "They're going to try and break him. It's what Vincent always does. If someone defies him, they get all kinds of rough treatments." I sat quietly at his side. "Nate's not going to break, you know that." I did. "He'll be brought back in once they're finished with the first try."

I scooted towards him. I was cold and tired, misplaced, scared—not to mention hungry and thirsty.

"Sounds like you know how this works really well." I mused softly.

Aric's glowing eyes lit up some hope in my heart. They were so bright and pretty, unlike this place. His arm settled over my shoulders, pulling me to his side as he saw me shiver; my head rested on his shoulder. It didn't even bother me that he was getting some blood on me.

"Speaking from experience sucks." He confessed in my ear with a quiet tone. "You know what you did... it was pretty stupid."

"I wasn't going to let Anna die—"

He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm not referring to that," he chuckled. "Though he deserved it."

"Oh... that." I had no idea what came over me, what had driven me to spit on Vincent's face—not when he could order someone to kill me whenever. "It was impulse." My hand rested on his chest while I looked up. "I didn't know you had scars."

A faint grimace crossed him, I understood it wasn't something he liked talking about. Who would?

"They're mostly faded now," he readjusted his hold. "You can see them in the sunlight if you know what you're looking for."

When my eyes dropped I distinctively heard a familiar tune—a lullaby. I'd heard it more than once. When I was staying with Aric in Dawsonville, I used to hear it and I'd thought it was my imagination, because back then I had been more than a little nuts. Now, I wasn't.

I was listening to a melody, a hummed one.

"Thanks..." I hoped Aric heard it.

As my consciousness fell in oblivion, I couldn't stop replaying every kiss and bittersweet moment I had lived with Nate.