Len pulled out a seat for me, ushering me into it before sitting down beside it.
“I’m still in if you are,” he told the other man, and I could’ve just kissed Tris. Jacks went super pale, then flushed way too prettily for a dude with a beard.
“Yeah, Len, I’m in.” But then Jackson’s focus turned to us. “And you two?”
“Want a taste of everything on the table, beta?” Tris asked archly. “Convince Kit. Where she goes, I go, but yeah…” He looked at me, searching my face, but when I nodded, he already knew what I felt. “We’re at the very least curious.”
“Well, all right.” Jackson’s smile was a lot wider, a lot more relaxed now. He kept smiling as his eyes stayed on Len, taking in the relaxed way the alpha sat in his chair with an almost proprietary air.
“And James, you have to wonder where the hell you fit. What need have we for another alpha? Especially when your family and Kit’s are fairly keen to railroad us down a path I’m not convinced is the best for us,” Tris said, looking lazily across the table, both he and James almost facing off.
“I hate that someone used our crap to undermine whatever Cress had. She’s a nice person, she deserves someone true and worthy of her, and if her dickhead alpha trophy fiancé wasn’t up to the job, then I feel compelled to find someone else better for her. The easiest thing of all to save the family reputation is to cut us all loose, turn their back on the naughty omegas, the deviant alphas. Let them have their multitude of bullshit bitchy conversations about us over high tea, exhaust their spleens over cups of Earl Grey until someone else fucks up spectacularly. We get out from under Kit’s dad, away from the car crash that is her mother, and me out of that fucking academy, so I’m not held hostage until I finally give in to Theo’s many imprecations.”
What? I turned and frowned as I stared at my mate, but he charged on.
“So to answer the unspoken question that I know is ticking over in your mind, you already know. Can you turn your back on all this bullshit? Let Nanna Dear look after her own damn self. See the fam away from the throngs of the elite. Let them come slum it down with us at Len’s place.”
“That’s hardly slumming it,” Jackson said with a snort. “His place is damn nice. I helped him renovate it. Plenty of room for naughty little omegas.”
“So, James.” Tristan forged on. “Are you in or are you out?”
Time crawled by or sped up, I couldn’t tell. There was only watching and waiting. Then James’ face split into a broad smile, a reluctant peal of laughter escaping him as he shoved his glasses up his nose, raking his hair back.
“You want to turn your back on all of it? On everything we grew up with?” James asked.
This was directed at me, but I nodded without pause or question. Tris had always promised me he’d get me out of my gilt cage, and now I could. I was an omega, mated to an alpha. Legally, I was his responsibility now, not my father’s, but James’ smile didn’t falter when he saw my response.
“Then I’m in. Absolutely, I’m in.” He frowned slightly, his smile fading, and something else rose in his eyes. “I know what I am, what I was born to be. The track was put before me as a child, just like it was Kit, but I’ve stepped away from it at every chance. Because it’s ridiculous bourgeois bullshit, because it’s insular, elitist, and mostly because it’s fucking small.”
His face, the scorn he dumped on our world, they pinned me in place and made me long to hear more.
“I became an artist to find more—more meaning, more beauty, more intent, more passion, more need. Where the hell am I going to get that but here?”
He stared at me, then Tris.
“The dice was rolled for me the moment you two came into my studio. There aren’t any other choices, something I reconciled myself to in the time I spent staring at your portrait. I’m in, I’ve always been in, until such point you tell me I’m out.” He shook his head. “But I assume you have a plan?”
Tris smiled slowly.
“If we’re going to fall from grace, we may as well go straight to hell.”
Chapter 36
Abaddon was quite a different place in the daytime, the harsh light revealing cracks in the black paint, discarded glitter in the gaps in the footpath, but a hulking doorman saw us coming and opened the door for us, ushering us in. We were directed up a floor, into a surprisingly cushy place. The office was filled with luxe furnishings, richly coloured carpets, and gilt furniture, with stylishly abrupt paintings on the wall.
“Ahh, my favourite omegas.” Athena looked quite different too, her long dark hair pinned up in a loose bun, thin-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, and the severe oval of her face scrubbed clean of makeup. “I was hoping to see you again about a matter—”
“We needed to see you too,” James said, stepping forward. “I thought the rules on filming were strict within Abaddon?”
“The strictest,” she replied, sitting back in her chair, frowning slightly. “We have a variety of tech within the club to detect and scramble devices while on the premises. Abaddon is a haven. But why are you asking me about filming?”
She opened a drawer, tossing a smartphone on the desk, the screen dark and inscrutable.
“What’s that?” Len asked.
“Something we confiscated last night. Something I wanted to talk to you about.”
You, as in me, not you, the group. I frowned and then moved closer, picking the phone up. I powered it on and then froze at what I saw. The lock screen picture was a familiar one, of course it was. There was Cress, Theo, Tris, and I, gangly and awkward teens, clustered together and smiling for the camera. We’d always teased Theo about using it as his lock screen image, and Dad hated it, feeling like it didn’t send the right message, but in this one thing, Theo resisted. The phone requested I type in the passcode, and I knew what it was without prompting—my birthday. I tapped the numbers in as Athena watched me closely.