My heart beats a little faster at Mekhi’s words—and the implication that everyone knows that I’m who Jaxon cares about. It’s probably ridiculous to be so excited at the thought, since if it’s true, those feelings put a big red X right on me. But after the time I spent with Jaxon in his room today, I don’t care nearly as much as I should. I want to be with him.
“So what was Hudson like?” I ask Mekhi as we reach the back part of the tunnels. Maybe it’s an indelicate question to ask, but how else am I supposed to find out anything about Jaxon’s relationship with his brother? I’m pretty sure he’s not going to tell me.
Mekhi glances down at me, and there’s something different in the look he gives me, something wary and fearsome at the same time. It’s so similar to the look Jaxon had when he was talking about Hudson—minus the palpable anguish—that it makes me wonder just who this guy was. And how his presence can be so keenly felt even after he’s been dead for nearly a year.
“Hudson was…Hudson,” Mekhi says with a sigh. “I guess the best way to describe him would be as a light version of Jaxon.”
“A light version?” That’s not what I was expecting, especially after what Jaxon had to say about him earlier. “I thought he was a…” I trail off because I don’t want to call the former heir to the vampire throne a monster, even though that’s exactly what I’m thinking.
“Not light as in sunshine,” Mekhi elaborates as we reach the center rotunda of the tunnels. “I mean Jaxon lite. He was the older brother and pretty much the prodigal son—their parents adored him. And so did a lot of other important people in our species.
“But being able to fool people into thinking you have character isn’t the same as actually having character. And the one thing I know for sure is that Hudson wasn’t a quarter of the person Jaxon is. Too selfish, too egotistical, too opportunistic. All Hudson cared about was Hudson. He was just good at pretending to care about what those in power wanted him to care about.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so in the end I don’t say anything. After all, I never met Hudson, and I don’t care about him in the slightest, beyond the fact that Jaxon is using his brother’s death to punish himself.
But I’ve got to admit, Mekhi’s description sounds awfully close to what I figured out reading between the lines of what Jaxon was telling me. He’s beating himself to hell and back for what happened between them, but it sounds to me like he did the world a favor taking Hudson out of it. No matter what Jaxon thinks about it.
A noise sounds far behind us, and suddenly Mekhi is shoving me in back of him as he whirls around, hands raised in an obvious fighting stance. Which he drops once he realizes the noise came from Lia, who is racing up the tunnel toward us.
And by racing, I mean really booking it. Wow, she can move fast when she wants to. I mean, that’s no surprise—I’ve seen Jaxon move, and it’s a little shocking how quickly he can get to me when he wants to.
But so far, every time he moves like that, it’s because I’m in some kind of trouble and he wants to get to me. The same kind of trouble that keeps me from paying close attention to him because I’m afraid I’m in the middle of trying not to die.
Watching Lia run without any safety fears for myself, though? It’s intense. It takes her less than a minute to cover the tunnel we just spent the last five minutes walking down.
And when she gets to us? She isn’t even breathless.
“Hey, girl, where’s the fire?” Mekhi asks as she moves to pass right by us. I’m surprised at his tone, and the fact that a lot of the warmth he has when he talks to me is now absent.
Of course, she isn’t exactly dripping friendliness herself when she answers, “Oh, hey, guys. Just using my free period to do some extra time in the art studio.”
Mekhi raises a brow. “Since when do you use your free period for anything productive?”
She looks away, jaw working, and for a second, I’m pretty sure she isn’t going to answer him. But then she shrugs and says, “I’m working on a painting of Hudson.”
“So that’s who it is,” I exclaim, thinking back on the portrait I saw her working on yesterday. “He’s really good-looking.”
“You have no idea.” Her lips curve in the closest thing I’ve seen to a smile from her. “I’m nowhere near talented enough to do him justice.”
“False modesty?” Mekhi mocks. “That’s not like you, Lia.”