Curse of the Fallen - 10. Chapter Ten: The Others

Chapter Ten: The Others

When one of the Graft’s men told them supper was ready, everyone made their way to the dining room. Waiting for them were the members of Calvin’s cabal. They were a group over achieving of young men and woman and therefore quite eccentric bunch. Each represented companies and foundations from every major field of industry and research. Each also had enjoyed the blessing or curse of running into members of the Elected. Each therefore knew what was at stake.

“So these are the two members of the Elected you want us to hand our companies over to?” The first asked. About 6’2” Blair Hendricks appeared more dressed for a summer polo match than a northeastern February. He wore a bright blue white edge blazer, white pants and a pair of sockless brown leather shoes. With sun bleached hair, and sun kissed skin he looked as if he had been spending the winter on one of the tropical islands Aaron used spend his summers on.

“Jon is but not me.” Aaron replied before Jon could. He knew if he didn’t say something Jon would try to declare him royalty.

“No… of course not.” The person who spoke this time was pale man in red silk paisley pajamas. His name was Jake Peters and was the heir to the medical and pharmaceutical research and development company Hemolog. His father’s company’s main rival was Coven’s own Biosign;” “It has to be the help.”

“It? Help?” Jon summoned his Talent to crush the insolent knave who had insulted his lover but Aaron moved faster. Before he could take one step forward Aaron embraced his lover and kissed him. The sensual touch of Aaron’s soft lips redirected Jon’s rage into his groin.

Jake let out a snort but wisely didn’t say another word.

“Don’t mind that him… he’s snorted half he brain out with crack.” A woman said.

“Crack? I’ve never touched the stuff. As the diva Whitney would say, rest her soul, Crack is wacked. I make too much money to be slumming for crack.” Jake laughed.

The person who had come to Aaron’s defense was the youngest in the group, Halley Davis. She looked no older than twenty-four. Dressed in black leather and lace she was more demure than as blatantly aggressive like Jon’s Elvira mimicking sister. “As I said, just ignore him. To be honest I don’t know what he’s doing here in the first place.”

The Graft replied. “Because he is the enemy of our enemy.”

“If he is the enemy of our enemy, then who are his friends? He’s no friend of mine,” Halley replied.

Blair agreed with Halley’s assessment of the drug addled Jake. “Yeah… him being here is more like scrapping the bottom of the cracker barrel if you ask me.”

“I can take a hint. If none of you can appreciate what I have to offer I guarantee the Coven will.” If anyone thought he would march out in a huff they would find themselves disturbingly surprised. Instead of leaving he took out a vial of cocaine, a pipe and a gold zippo lighter.

As soon as he lit the pipe up Aaron fled and Jon grabbed Jake by the throat. “You fucking idiot… do you have any idea what that stuff does to a Talent?”

Jake exhaled on Jon’s face. “Doesn’t seem to be affecting you any.”

Jon threw the toad on the table. “I’m a physical Talent you little fucker.” Grabbing the glass pipe he crushed it to dust with a fist. “Would you like me to do the same to your skull?”

“Testing… just testing… I wanted to make sure I was dealing with real members of the Elected.”

“Wouldn’t getting yourself stoned sort of mess up your ability to make that kind of judgment?” Halley laughed.

Blair joined in. “Probably the only way he can think straight.”

Jake suddenly went berserk. “What do you know about that?” he demanded. If Jon didn’t still have him pinned to the table he might have killed the pair. All he could do was thrash about in the table like an out of control child.

Gordon who had left with the screaming had started came back with a syringe. “Stay out of the way. I’ll deal with this.” He said in a stern fatherly tone.

“Be my guess.” Jon let go of the freak.

Jake jumped onto the table and kicked the remaining dishware off like a soccer ball. His out of control screams had his veins bulging from his purpling neck. When he finally noticed the Graft approaching him with the syringe he collapsed to his knees and went silent. “Please, no… not that… I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You’ve said that before… You’ve been very, very, bad. Now you have to take your medicine.” The Graft moved in.

Jake tried to jump off the table and run but the Graft grabbed him by his ankle and forced him off his feet. He cried and begged clawing with both hands for the table’s edge. It did no good. The Graft reeled him in like a fish.

When Jake’s legs had been pulled back over the end of the table Gordon wrapped an arm around his waist and yanked him straight up and at the same time plunged the contents of the syringe into the base of his neck.

Jake went limp followed by his sudden dead silence. He was carried to a wheelchair one of Graft’s men had wheeled in. The Graft seated and strapped him in then rolled him back to where he had been seated.

Jon had enough dealings with the Graft to know he was not always the sweet charmer his clients assumed he was. Once he had killed several of his own men for no other reason than he wasn’t sure he could trust all of them. Whatever relationship the Graft had with Mr. Peters it couldn’t be the pleasurable sort people paid fortunes to experience.

Jon was about to go looking for Aaron when he felt his lover hand touch his. Aaron, who had always had an aversion to the sun, looked paler than usual. It could have been from the drug or what had just happened. Jon would have to wait until they were alone before he could ask.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m hungry.” A guest said to help cheer up the mood. He was Dane Winship, billionaire oilman and rancher from Texas. Worth over 32 billion he was the wealthiest person under the age of thirty. He wore a tan hide and sheep wool coat, dark blue jeans, white silk shirt and a turquoise and sliver clasped bola. On the coffee table where he had his feet propped up was a black cowboy hat with a chain band made up of turquoise and black leather. “Where’s the chow?”

“Aaron, this is Dane Winship, he’s a braggart, a thief, a gambler and a heartbreaker,” The Graft said as he introduced the cowboy.

“Hell… I would have to be a gambler to hang around you lot.” With a kick of a boot he popped his hat into his hands and put it on. He went over to Aaron gave him a sidewise nod of the head and whistled. “Didn’t know you Talent types could be so pretty. As a proper Texan gent, I must insist you not go unescorted.” He offered a hand to Aaron.

“I think I’m already spoken for.” Aaron took Jon by the elbow and took seats by the fire.”

“Boy that smarts. Here I thought I actually stood a chance of riding that fine stallion off into the sunset.”

“Be careful what you say Dane… Colonel Omicron already has that one branded.” Calvin warned.

“I’m not saying I’m going a steal him. All I want to do is ride him.”

“If that’s all you want you’ll have to talk to the Graft. He’s one of his men.” Calvin replied.

“Really, you mean Mr. Graft keeps such a fine looking Talent in his stable? I think I’ve been gypped.”

“Mr. Mays is a special case. Anyway I’ve already sold off his contract.” Gordon let Dane see his eyes dart towards Calvin.”

“All shucks… share and share alike, right padre?” Dane put Calvin in headlock. While Calvin tried to free himself, Dane hollered and yelped as if he was riding a wild bronco. “Oh I’m going to have to break in a new saddle with this one.”

Aaron had enough. “Can we stop fooling around and get down to business.”

“Hold your horses, the twins haven’t introduced themselves yet.” Dane said.

From the back of the room two fingers, both dressed in drab suits stepped into the light. They were of the same height and near identical build. Their black hair was cut in the same short greased back style. Each wore the same black suit shirt tie, and shoes. From a distance one would assume the pair were identical. “Forgive my brother and me for not introducing ourselves from the start. I’m Trish.”

“I’m Terry and before you start asking, Trish is my sister, not my brother.” Both spoke with the same British accent.

It might have been his time with Tracy and Trey but Aaron was the first to recover. “Are you Talents?”

“Why do you say that? Is it because we’re twins?” Trish said a little peeved. “Those Coven folk seemed to think so but we showed them a thing or two.”

“If we have Talent we don’t have a clue how to control it.”

“So why the getup?” Jon asked.

Aaron jabbed him hard. “It’s because women don’t stand a chance in the Coven, right?”

The twins nodded. “Exactly.”

“You seem to have a head on your shoulders. More than your best mate does,” Terry replied.

“The Coven came for me and I was their prisoner. I might have ended up their food.”

“Quite smashing of you to get away while you could you old chap. We were not even two when they came for us so we don’t remember much but luckily our dad stopped the buggers.” Terry turned to his sister.

“After dad dealt with them he did a little digging. Found out about the Coven and the Order and he didn’t want us to have anything to do with either one.

“So he shipped us off to Cardiff to stay with a friend. To be safe we were given new names and Mr. Owen had Trish disguise herself as a boy.”

“Pretty much thought I was until I started budding.”

Jon gave her a good look. “They don’t seem to be budding right now.”

Trish glared at him coldly.

Before things could get worse Terry wisely stepped in to explain things. “When word got around that Trish was really a girl things got real bad for her. Real bad.”

Aaron didn’t know quite what they were hinting at but accepted it as a warning not to pry. “I guess we’ll have to find a way to trust each other. Best way to protect ourselves, right?”

“I’m sure we will be best mates in no time.” Terry gave Aaron a polite bow.

As Aaron got to know everyone a little better he found out that each had more than a few run ins with the two opposing factions. They all agreed it was a good thing the Graft got them all together to learn from each other. What they couldn’t agree on was what they should do next.

From Aaron they wanted only one thing… to finally be told whether they really did have Talent.

Aaron didn’t know what to say. They all had some aspect of the ability but none could make use of it. As he expected the twins were the strongest ones in the group but what he sensed was not particular to any one Talent but nor were they mixed. It was as if their Talent was lost at sea. With no way of predicting which beach their Talent would land on let alone know if it ever would he didn’t know if it would do any good to say anything.

By the way they desperately waited for his reply he knew he had to tell them the truth. “I don’t know what to say… you have the power but not the gift.”

Trish was not thrilled by his answer. “Damn it I knew the bloke would say same something like that?”

“If you knew doesn’t that mean you’re a mind reader?” Dane joked. He was just starting to laugh when he saw the rage the twins aimed at them.

“Why is it so important whether you do or not have Talent?” Blair asked between puffs on a cigarette.”

Terry reached over and pulled his sister close. “Because it would make all we’ve sacrificed worth it.”

“Think about it… how would you feel if you were forced to leave your family, pretend you’re a man, and live your whole life in fear only to find out it was all for nothing.” Aaron whispered. Seeing the two nod, Aaron reached over the table and took their hands in his. “This isn’t the end of this.”

Trish’s eyes were still filled with anger. “It won’t until we make them pay.”

Telling the others about their Talents was not as difficult. Dane had some sort of physical Talent as well as something else Aaron couldn’t quite put his finger on. He might not know how to use it but it could manifest itself instinctively if he ever got in a jam.

When cattle started going missing five years ago Dane had lassoed a group of his men and hunted down the rustlers. When he found a group of rebel members of the Coven eating his cattle alive he called in the rangers. What he got instead were true members of the Coven. They were a team of Hunters, men trained to deal with those who dare go against the Master.

Dane didn’t trust them but they carried badges and seemed professional enough. Having always been the suspicious sort he trailed them to an abandoned pumping station.

Through his binoculars he saw the Hunters round up the rebels. Once they had them lined up in a row they tapped them twice in the head with a semiautomatic pistol.

Killing the thieves didn’t bother Dane too much. What happened next did. The Hunters tied ropes around the dead’s ankles, slit their throats and strung them up. They showered themselves in the streams of blood that dripped out.

He admitted he should have hightailed it right out of there but found himself frozen where he lay watching. It was when they began to feed on the drained flesh that he pissed himself.

When two of them headed in his direction it dawned on him that they had known he had been watching them the entire time. They were now coming for him to do to him what they had done with the others.

To this day he doesn’t remember how he got away. Looking back he remembered them grabbing him by the throat and kissing him with their blood stained lips. Everything went black and the next thing he knew he was in his truck driving back to the main house. Half his clothes were missing and his body was caked with dirt and blood.

When he got back home he went to the guest house. No one was using it so he could stay there and get himself cleaned up before anyone could see his present state. By morning he went about his business as if nothing had happened. But from that moment forward he rarely slept alone. Any time he did find himself alone in bed, the nightmares would come back and he would wet the bed.

When no one came looking for the so called Texas Rangers he began to believe maybe nobody would. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. When a year had passed he dare to think that would be the end of it. The whole time he never once attempted to go back to the pumping station to try to figure out what had happened.

Then a year and a half later a rich woman came knocking. She claimed she was lost but one didn’t end up in the Badlands just by making a wrong turn. She seemed charming enough and she was defiantly pretty but underneath it all there was a coldness to her.

Once again he got the feeling something wasn’t right so when she started acting a little too familiar he ordered her off his property. She left willingly enough… too willingly to be honest. He knew she would be back and next time she would leave her charming smile at the gate.

Fearing for his life, the next day Dane drove to San Antonio and flew to Los Angeles. He’d never been there but from what he knew it was larger than any city he been in. With plenty of money from his business empire he set himself up as a southern dandy. His fear of being alone led to daily trysts with the best hookers oil money could buy. None of it was fulfilling but at least he didn’t piss on himself each night.

It was in his search of sex that he started hearing rumors of a man known as the Graft. Supposedly you could sign long term contracts that would force whoever he signed with to remain with him until it expired. The prices people spoke of was more than his Orange County mansion but he needed someone who would not leave him when he wept through the night.

Finally, after countless bribes he got someone to invite him to one of the Graft’s parties. When he arrived he expected to be greeted by bare breasted woman, but throughout the party he only saw finely dressed men.

Either he had never known a part of him was of the gay persuasion or something that night had changed him but he found he actually kind of enjoyed the flattery of the other young men. It took a little thinking but Dane found out why everyone was flirting with him. Most of those there were assuming that he was part of the entertainment.

Finding the tables had turned on him without his knowing he loosened up and appreciated the moment for what it was. He received all sorts of offers. Some were for sex. Others just wanting the chance to enjoy his company. Some even asked what it would cost for a more long term arrangement.

He replied coyly to each offer, suggesting he was interested but not yet willing to commit. By the end of the night he found himself pocketing a gold diamond jeweled pocket watch.

Before he knew it he received more invitations. It then became an issue as to which soiree he would attend. As the months passed he gained a reputation of a straight man curious to tip his toe in a gay love affair.

It was not the lack of interested partners nor the net worth of the gifts they were showering him with. It was his fear of what he might become once he crossed the line in having sex with another man.

After six weeks of turning down every proposal someone whom he could not turn away came for him. That man was the Graft. No one could take up the trade without him learning about it and he was curious as to why a man like Dane would bother pretending he was for sale.

Without much digging the Graft found all the information he needed and not much of it he liked. While it was as common for wealthy Untalented men to seek the company of the Graft’s men as it was young members of the Elected to offer themselves up for the sake of political influence, he knew of only a few cases where someone with Dane’s wealth tempt Talented and Untalented alike with his wares. He had just never heard of one who resisted in sealing the deal.

Curious, he dug deeper and found things he would rather not have known. Crossing the path of the Coven and walking away unmarked was one thing. To cross that of the Order as well and walking away with your life marked Dane as an exceedingly dangerous man to hang around.

But the Graft being the Graft, he couldn’t stop himself from meddling. Wanting to know more he sent the only man other than Aaron who could draw Dane into his web… Ryan Harper.

Since Greg Balthazar had left the Lakes School for the Gifted the two were seen together less and less often. Gordon didn’t know what led to the change in the relationship between the two but knew better than to ask. As long as Dr. Balthazar continued to make payments on Ryan’s contract then the nature of their relationship was none of his business.

Ryan, his best Untalented escort, was given funds to pose as a millionaire playboy out to enjoy the interactions between the Untalented and Elected much like Dane was. As no one had much luck at seducing the cowboy Ryan took a different approach.

It took a lot of planning and perfect timing but the staged fight between him and another one of the Graft’s men led to an all-out brawl. Whether Dane had wanted to get involved didn’t prevent him from letting his fists fly. When on cue the Graft’s security guards arrived Ryan grabbed Dane and escaped. From then on the two were inseparable.

With both of them supposedly banned from the scene, Ryan had no problem talking Dane into visiting the less polished parts of Talent society. With his years as Chief Liaison of Chicago he knew the underground scene very well. He went from taking him to the shady underground arena where Talents and the Untalented alike would duel to the death in return for cash, He showed Dane the drug dens where the use of all forms of illicit substances were combined with the mind altering use of empathic and mental Talent of the hookers who worked there. There were the sex houses, freak shows, and night clubs that only a man like Ryan could get Dane into.

Most of them were places well known to the Graft and in some cases he was the proprietor. One club that Ryan took him to was not on the proscribed list, the Butcher’s Den. If the Graft ever learned that his trusted servant had taken Dane to the Coven feeding ground he would have ripped him apart.

Located deep beneath what had once been the old Chicago Union Stockyards, the Butchers’ Den had been carving up chunks of human flesh since before the city was founded. It had been the first Coven west of the Mississippi and had been established by none other than the Master.

When Landon had been made Chosen of North America, control of the den fell to him. When he first went to inspect it he was disgusted with what he saw. The Butcher’s Den still sold human flesh by the pound but its glory days were long gone. Instead of meat taken from fresh victims it sold the half maggot eaten remains of corpses they bought from families too poor to afford a proper burial and from the city morgues. The once polished marble walls had been blackened by over a century’s worth of splattered blood. It stank worse than a sludge pit, and was more diseased than an isolation ward. The only customers present were the perverted and insane.

The first decision Landon made was to send all those present to the den’s meat grinder. He shut it down for three years while his people cleansed it of decades of filth. In its place he set up a large bakery that became famous for its meat pies and red velvet cake. It still served the same purpose of converting the unknowing into servants of the Coven but at least it would be done in a more civilized environ.

If the Graft had known that Ryan had joined the Coven and that he planned for Dane to do the same he would have killed them both. While Ryan had been showing Dane the sights Gordon had been digging deeper into Dane’s past. If he thought Dane’s run in with the Coven was bad enough what facts he learned about Dane’s ancestry haunted him in his sleep.

According to what little his people were able to discover no one knew what had set Dane off. When Ryan sent out an emergency call to his fellow Liaisons the strike force found everyone but Ryan was dead and the shop torn apart. With so many body parts scattered throughout the building they could only guess as to how many had been killed. Ryan claimed he had no memory as to what exactly happened or what he had been doing at the Coven stronghold. On top of his amnesia he never once brought Dane up. In the final report Ryan sent to the Council the deaths were blamed on the actions of an unnamed rival of Chicago’s Chosen. With inner-factional violence on the upswing the report was accepted without question by everyone but not the Graft.

The Graft had a good idea as to the nature of Dane’s subconscious Talent, both its usefulness and its dangers. When he finally tracked Dane he offered him his protection. In return Dane was expected to give him his loyalty and free access to all his assets and wealth. If he did as he was asked, Gordon would throw in a bonus… he would introduce him to the one person he knew who could help him with his condition. There was only one person with such Talent and that person was Mr. Mays.

As Aaron held Dane’s hands from across the table he didn’t sense any of the common forms of Talent. The closest he could point to was physical but if it was it was in a form he had never come across.

“So tell me the bad new… am I a Talent or ain’t I?” Dane asked after Aaron hadn’t given him a response.

“I really can’t say one way or another.”

When he attempted to pull his hands back Dane grabbed him. “I’m sure if we put our two heads together we’ll be able to figure it out.”

Aaron jerked his hands free. He didn’t know if it was his own weak empathic Talent or a subconscious use of Dane’s Talent but he felt a rush of feral hunger run through him. He looked from Dane to the Graft. The Graft’s left brow was arched as if surprised by Aaron’s reaction. Dane also looked surprised but his gaze was more predatory than ever.

Too disturbed ask what was going on, Aaron moved on to Blair. Once their hands touched Aaron knew he was dealing with a subconscious empath. The man was a player who had left a trail of broken hearts in his wake. The bisexual didn’t care if his target was a man or a woman, money and power were the only two aphrodisiacs he needed to get himself hard.

That explained his success as a corporate lawyer. So far he had never lost a case and had never had a deal go sour. As an independent contractor he moved wherever his money took him.

Blair always knew he was special, that he followed a more generous set of rules compared to his compatriots. His exceptionalism however left him feeling unchallenged. When a person can get his way with almost anything, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that he often found himself bored.

Then he met Talia. From what little he knew of her at the time she was an up and coming lawyer from an old money family. With their shared ambitious nature and Talia playing hard to get Blair became obsessed.

It took three months just to get her to share a cup of coffee with him, another two to talk her into having lunch. After a year and without a single date he agreed to give up his freewheeling life as an independent contractor work for her father.

Once he was where she wanted him she took to completely ignoring him. She wouldn’t take his calls, or even say hello to him in the hall. It was as if he no longer existed.

Instead of being put off by her change in attitude, he committed himself to work ten times harder in the office to attract her attention. He went days without sleep, living off protein bars and Red Bull. No longer seeing himself having time for his old friends he became a recluse outside of work.

While it didn’t seem to payoff in his romantic life the Balthazar Conglomerate profited greatly from his efforts. He had become their attack dog. Whatever company they unleashed him on was forced to sell itself for a fraction of its worth. Those that resisted were driven out of business letting the Balthazars buy what parts they wanted during the bankruptcy liquidation.

In the process of making billions for his bosses, Blair made plenty of enemies. None were more dangerous than those members of the Coven whose lives he had unwittingly ruined. While he didn’t see it the members of the Elected would have seen the pattern. Every company the Balthazars sent him out to destroy was either owned or did business with companies belonging to members of the Elected whose family’s had allied with the Coven.

That didn’t mean the Balthazars left him unprotected. Their agents followed him everywhere and he was under constant mental surveillance. What protected him most was his status as an Untalented. Given the rules and customs in regards with the Elected interfering in the world of the Untalented the Coven couldn’t act to eliminate him without drawing the attention of the Council. The assassinating the Untalented employees of the Elected families would also draw the attention of the mundane authorities and risk the public finding out of the existence of the secret society.

The existence of a race of super humans with the ability to control the minds, emotions, and bodies of the more mundane might trigger mass hysteria and a worldwide witch hunt of the Talented. One day in the future, when the Elected controlled the world, hiding their existence would no longer be necessary but that day had not yet arrived.

The only way Blair’s enemies could have him killed without suspicion was to have another Untalented do it for them. For a race of men capable of controlling the minds of other one would assume that shouldn’t be a major problem, however there was a major one. The Untalented sent to kill Blair could not show any signs of having been mentally or emotionally tampered. If the Balthazars were to find such evidence they could turn the evidence over the Council for compensation. That usually took the form of being allowed to kill a vital Untalented servant of the guilty party.

Luckily for the Coven, Blair had destroyed the lives of so many people there was no shortage of people who would want to see him dead. They just needed to find a way of slipping past his bodyguards.

In this case the Coven cheated. Several years ago there had been an attempt against the Graft’s life. Whoever wanted the Graft and his guests dead, had used mutated Nulls, Talents who had the ability to cancel out the abilities of other Talents.

With the aid of the Chicago Chosen the Graft and his people managed to escape. In the process the Coven managed to capture several of the mutant Nulls.

Through years of research and genetic experimentation the Chosen’s scientists restored the Nulls some semblance of their former humanity. It was one of these Nulls that the Coven sent to kill Blair.

Ironies of ironies the attempt was made while Blair was enjoying the Graft’s company. That had not been Landon’s doing but was due to the actions of another of the Coven’s Chosen. If Landon had known of it he certainly wouldn’t have signed off on it.

The Graft, having been left emotionally scarred by the past assassination attempt, had gone to extreme efforts to protect himself. One such precaution had been a genetic modification that allowed him to sense an approaching Null from over a hundred yards away.

Once he caught the scent of the approaching assassin the Graft went into a berserk paranoid frenzy. He tracked and tore the Null apart with his bare hands. While he didn’t know who had been the target, himself or his guest he sent for his best mind scanners. It took a little neural roughing up but the Graft’s men found all the ways Blair had been tampered with. It had Talia Balthazar’s fingerprints all over it.

While he didn’t know who had sent the Null, the Graft was not the sort to let an opportunity slip by. Just as Blair had ruthlessly increased the wealth and power of the Balthazars, the Graft saw no reason why he couldn’t use the poor fool in the same fashion.

So under the guise of a romantic vacation, he took Blair to his new secret retreat and had his people deprogram him. As a secondary precaution the Graft had him genetically modified to make further attempts at controlling Blair significantly harder.

Once Blair realized how he had been used he swore he would have his revenge. At first he wanted to go back to the office and kill Talia but Gordon had been able to talk him into taking a more subtle approach.

Under his tutelage and further grafting he helped Blair master his abilities of persuasion. As for Talia, once word of the assassination attempt reached her she knew better than to interfere. The Graft had claimed him. As everyone knows what the Graft has, he keeps.

Once the Graft was sure he was ready, he unleashed the new improved Blair onto the world. The first thing Blair did was quit working for the Balthazars. He then used all the dirty secrets he had collected over the years to build his own mini-financial empire. He now ran the third largest law firm in the world with an annual gross income of twenty eight billion. He himself was now worth sixteen billion. At the same time Blair established his own security company and filled its ranks with the Graft’s men. They were to be the Graft’s spies and assassins. In a matter of a few years all of Blair’s enemies and been dealt with… all of them expect Talia that is. He still didn’t dare go after her. The Graft had been wised on insisting Blair not use the secrets he had on the Blathazars be part of his revenge. So long as Blair kept his mouth shut it was in the Balthazars’ best interest to keep him alive.

When Aaron let go of Blair’s hands Aaron sat back in his chair and shook his head in disbelief. At one point he had been engaged to Talia. While it was never his intent to marry her he could not help but feel relieved he hadn’t. Everyone had warned him how dangerous she was. Even members of her own family had warned him. He now knew why. “It seems we both dodged a bullet.”

“How so?” Blair asked.

Aaron shared parts but not all of his dealings with the Balthazars. The main part he left out was how close he had Andrew had once been.

When he finished, some of Blair’s cocky attitude melted away. “Yeah… we both seemed to have lucked out on that one. I hope you don’t mind me saying but did you ever sleep with her?”

“No…”

“Good. I would hate to think you got further than I did.” He said half in jest.

There was another long period of silence.