Keep My Glass Full Until Morning Light

Ezra had the guts to Alex’s bluff, which would’ve pissed her off if she hadn’t been so damn busy being conflicted. “It does help, actually,” she informed him flatly. “It makes everything else shut up for a few hours. And why do you care anyway? We played some stupid drinking game and now you think you know me? Well, you don’t. Maybe I deserve to be left here to drink myself to death.” It was more of a challenge than an honest assessment, a way to see where Ezra truly stood here. How much had he seen back at the Ministry? Not just been there for but actually seen? Had he noticed the split second of fear in Alex’s eyes or the way she had watched Nicholas like she was waiting for a snake to strike? How much had Ezra truly discerned about her life? And more importantly, was it enough to push him away? Because it seemed to be a general rule of Alex’s life that people eventually left. Might as well get it over with now.

And yet somehow the idea of Ezra walking away actually bothered her. Needing an excuse to look away before he saw too much, Alex tugged out her new Enforcer badge and twirled it on the tabletop. She watched in silence as it spun briefly before clattering against the wood. Seeing it laying there seemed to make some kind of decision for her. Her tone was strangely flat as she seemingly changed the subject. “You want to know why I joined the Enforcers? My mother. She died when I was six. Slaughtered by a werewolf right in front of me. It would’ve killed me too if a wizard hadn’t pulled me out. Left me with a nice souvenir though.” She tapped her sleeve over her left bicep with two fingers without looking up. “I thought one killed my father a few years back, but clearly I was misinformed.” A humorless smile twisted her mouth. “I should’ve known. He’s like a damn cockroach. Somehow he always comes out ahead.” Her jaw clenched tightly. “He could’ve told his own bloody daughter though. But that’s never really been his style.”

Talking about her father made her all kinds of uncomfortable. She raked her fingers through her hair in a failed attempt to contain her irritation. She was rambling now, but she was too out of sorts to care. She could always blame it on the alcohol later. “You know, it’s funny. People talk about child soldiers. But there’s no such thing. Not really. You’re either one or the other. And my father… He wanted a soldier. Someone to help him get justice for my mother. So he made one. He dragged me into his war, and then he left me to fight it alone.” She hit the side of her badge angrily against the tabletop to cover the sudden tightness in her voice. Tomorrow she was going to hate herself for spilling all of this. Especially given how dangerously close she was to revealing just exactly what her father had trained her for. But right now she couldn’t have cared less.

Alex shook her head angrily. “He should be dead in a ditch. Hell, I should want him there after all the shit he’s pulled. It would serve him right.” Her tone had been fairly casual, like she was discussing an unfavorable ending to a sports match, and somehow that just made it even more disconcerting. But now her expression turned thoughtful as her thumb ghosted over the job title on her new badge. “You know the best part? When I saw him today, there was a second where I was actually glad to see him. This moment where I was just glad he was alive.” She exhaled heavily through her nose. “Except I know him. He’ll say all the right things, just like he always does, and even though I can see it coming a continent away, I’ll still end up buying into it just like I always do. I’ll start to think that maybe he’s changed. That maybe this time he actually gives a shit. And he’ll twist me around and use me to get whatever it is he really wants, and then he’ll prance off into the sunset and leave me holding the bag. And I’ll be right back here with a bottle of scotch wondering how the hell I could be so damn stupid.” She banged her fist down on the table to accentuate the last word. The answer, of course, was because he was her father. Because as disgusted as she was with herself, some weak part of her still wanted him to love her. But that was an admission Alex wasn’t willing to make, not even to herself. She didn’t need anyone. Daddy dearest himself had taught her that.

Alex would’ve laughed if her head hadn’t been spinning. Ezra wasn’t going anywhere. Right. Her mother was dead, her brother had turned into a sadistic bastard, her grandfather didn’t want her, and her father had walked away from her of his own will not once but twice. The only person who had ever stayed was Krieger. “Whatever.” If he wanted to sit at this dimly lit table and pretend to care, let him. Alex wasn’t about to buy it though.

She actually flinched when his hand touched hers. It was just so damn unexpected. People didn’t touch Alex. Not unless they were trying to hurt her. For a moment she just sat there, staring at Ezra’s hand in hers. It was like her brain couldn’t quite process what was happening here. His question made her shake her head. “You wouldn’t even be here if you knew.” Her voice was quiet, her eyes still directed at his hand. “You have no idea what I’ve done. What he taught me to do. I’ve got blood on my hands.” Lots of it. And that wasn’t an easy to thing to bear, no matter how many times she told herself they were monsters. Some miniscule part of her knew her mother would never have approved of this, and an even more miniscule part of Alex knew why. Usually she was about to stop the thought right there. To remind herself that her mother wasn’t here and that was precisely why she had to keep fighting. But sometimes that spark refused to be drowned. And nobody in their right mind could do the things Alex had done and come out okay on the other side. Just because she believed in what she was doing didn’t make it easy.

On another day she would have smarted off about cravings. Asked Ezra if his was for ponies and flowers. But she was too shaken up to bother. Ezra really had no idea. He thought it was so simple, that she could just drop her father and walk away. He had no clue had deeply those hooks were in. “I’m not the one who has to let go. Even when he was dead he still had this hold.” And now that he was back, it was a hundred times worse. “He’s not going to just let me walk away. He put far too much effort into shaping me. He wants something from me, and one way or another, he’s going to get it.” Because that was how Nicholas saw her – as a tool. Alex was under no illusions to the contrary. She knew her father didn’t care. But that didn’t stop her from hoping that someday he might.

She ran her hand through her hair again, pausing to rest the side of her head against her palm. When her eyes drifted back up to Ezra’s, they were surprisingly sharp. “You need to stay away from him. I mean it, Ezra. You have no idea what he’s capable of. People get hurt around my father.” There was actual worry flickering in her eyes. She hated herself for hinting that she might actual care what happened to Ezra, but she couldn’t help it. Her father wouldn’t stand for distractions. If Ezra seemed too invested in her, he would have to be dealt with. Alex knew her father. She could handle him. But Ezra? If he set off on some quest to save her, he would just get himself killed. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”