Ilona Andrews - Fate's Edge

“But I don’t want to be somebody else.”

“That’s not what I am saying.” Cerise sighed. “Let’s take George. He puts on his costume, goes to school, and plays the role of the Tragic Prince.”

“Cursed,” Jack corrected.

“Cursed. But at home he’s normal, right?”

Jack considered it. True, George was a bit weird at school. He rarely laughed, and sometimes he would stand by the windows and stare into the distance, looking sad, while a gaggle of girls whispered about him nearby.

“Yes,” Jack said. “I get it.”

“You just need to find your role. George is a Cursed Prince, and you might do better as the Mysterious Dark Loner.”

William stared at his wife. “You thought way too much about this.”

Cerise waved her hand at him. “You hush. Jack, look, it’s very simple. You just have to keep to yourself and look nonchalant.”

Jack blinked. “What?”

“William does a really good nonchalant look.” Cerise turned to William. “Do the nonchalant for him.”

William sighed and looked at Jack. It wasn’t any sort of special look. It was just flat.

“So I have to look bored?”

“You have to look like you don’t care. Like you would rather be somewhere else.”

“I would! I would rather be anywhere else.”

“Then it shouldn’t be too hard. Don’t tell people about yourself. Try not to get excited about anything where people can see you. If someone challenges you to a fight, shrug and keep going. If they persist, kick their ass. And once in a while, be yourself and do something randomly kind, the way you usually do, like help a smaller kid. If someone asks you why you do something, look nonchalant and tell them they just wouldn’t understand and that there are things about you they’re better off not knowing. Girls will eat it up.”

Jack glanced at William for confirmation. William shrugged and looked nonchalant.

“Give it a shot,” Cerise said. “Jack, you have to go to school. Trust me, you can’t do anything in the Weird without at least a third-degree graduation scroll in your hand.”

Jack inspected the table for a bit. “Nonchalant won’t work on Rose and Declan,” he said.

“What happened?” William leaned toward him and fixed Jack with his wolf stare. It was a hard, merciless stare that pinned Jack in place like a knife. If he met a wolf who looked at him like that in the forest, Jack would’ve puffed his fur out and snarled. And if that didn’t work, he’d take off as fast as he could.

“There was a ball,” Jack said, trying to keep his voice monotone. “Or a banquet. One of those things Declan does because of his job as Marshal. A lot of people came. I walked around. They never notice me because I am quiet. Some people were standing there eating shrimp and those crab things on toast. I walked up behind them. They were talking about Rose. An older man said that Declan had all those women he could’ve picked and he had to go to the Edge to get himself a whore, and why do they suppose he had to do that?”

His voice was building. Jack knew he should keep calm, but the fury he’d felt last night woke up again inside him, like an animal that rose to find himself caged. He remembered every word and every sound of that conversation. William had told him before that it was a changeling thing, and his perfect memory was spurring him on now.

“And then the woman in blue on his left said that maybe there was something wrong with Declan, physically. He had to get the kind of woman who was dependent on him completely, so she wouldn’t say anything.”

The anger was scratching at him now, trying to rip him up from the inside out and escape. The skin between his knuckles itched, eager to let his claws out.

“And the other woman, in yellow, she said, ‘Like mother like son. His mother was an Edge woman of ill repute.’ And the man said that he questioned the wisdom of associating with a woman who brought two mongrel children with her and that there must be something really valuable in the services she performs in the bedroom for Declan to keep her around. And then I said . . .”

His voice snapped into a deep, ragged growl. The fury broke and took him off his chair. He knew his eyes were glowing, and he didn’t care. “And I said that the Edgers take care of themselves and don’t come to other people’s houses looking for handouts and insulting people who’re feeding them, like fat ticks leeching off their hosts and complaining that the blood they’re stealing doesn’t taste right. I said, you think my sister is an Edge whore? Then don’t come here to eat her food.”

“Oh, Jack,” Cerise whispered.

“And then everyone was shocked.” Jack paced up and down, snarling. The hair on his arms was standing on end. He remembered the man’s scent, vivid and sharp, his face, his voice. “I wanted to kill him. They should’ve let me kill him! I would snap his neck with my teeth!”

“What happened next?” Cerise asked.

“Declan got this crazy look, and he said, ‘Either the boy is lying, which he never does, or you’ve insulted my wife.’ The man said, ‘At our house, we chain our animals before the arrival of guests. Perhaps you should do the same.’ Then Declan said, ‘Leave or I will throw you out.’ The man said, ‘Is that a threat?’ And Declan said, ‘Would you like it to be?’ The man said, ‘If you insist,’ and put his hand on his sword. And then Rose did her flash. It was shooting around her in spirals like white lightning, and her eyes were glowing with white, and she said, ‘This is over! Leave before I slice you and your family into ribbons.’”

Jack kept pacing. “And then the banquet was over, and I had to go to Declan’s office. He was really mad. I said, ‘I was defending my family! He was a bad guy.’ Declan said that he knew the guy was bad. I asked him why he invited him, and Declan said that he wanted to see who was friendly with this guy, so Declan could learn who his enemies are, and that I pretty much stabbed that plan through the heart. He said that he didn’t expect me to be perfect, but we can’t keep having these catastrophes every time I show my face in public. He said it’s causing problems between him and Rose, and he doesn’t want those kinds of problems, so we couldn’t keep going on like this, and something had to change. He also said that I needed more supervision and that I left him no choice. And then he told me I could go.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I know what this means. He doesn’t have to spell it out. He’s sending me to Hawk’s! For supervision!”

“Sit down!” William barked, his eyes glowing with green.

Jack landed on the floor and shut up.

“The animal thing inside you, the Wild. Has it ever taken over?”

Jack shook his head.

“You ever see red?”

Jack nodded.

William glanced at Cerise. “He needs to rend and soon, and we don’t have time. The first time is always the hardest.” He turned back to Jack. “Listen to me. We have a thing inside us, the Wild. The Wild sleeps in a den deep in you. When you get angry, or worried, or excited, the Wild wakes up, and if you let it, it will break out. When the Wild takes over, you forget that there are rules. If it ever happens, you will kill in a frenzy, and you won’t stop until you’re dead or exhausted. It will take you to a place without gods. This is called rending. We all do this from time to time. There is the right way to rend and the wrong way. Rending in the middle of dinner filled with civilians is the wrong way. Do you understand?”

Jack nodded. “Yes.”

“You must keep the Wild in check until you and I can find a way to release it safely.”

“How?” Jack asked.

“I told you, the Wild sleeps in its den. When you see red, it’s about to escape. That’s when you push it back into its den and make it stay there. If the red ever goes black, you’re gone. Don’t let it drag you under, Jack. You get me?”