Page 229 of Savior
I choose not to acknowledge his comments, brushing them aside and ask, “If you believe what Dean told you about your dead brother, and you’re no longer his enemy, why don’t you go to him and tell him so?” I press, but he’s a vault now. “I’m through being jerked around. I’m done being kept in the dark. Used as a pawn in whatever this is.” I get up and start walking towards the ally to head back to my car, but Legion blocks me.
“I have to keep you in the dark. If we’re all going to come out of this alive.”
Something in his tone tells me he’s not lying. “I can’t live like this, Legion… Damien. Whomever you are! I can’t. It’s wearing me down. The stress, it’s not good for me, for the baby, either.”
The expression in his eyes softens slightly more. “Vanna, I am working for you now… That’s all you need to know. Let us protect you.”
“Us?”
“Keegan. And I.” He reaches up to grip his jaw, a sign of distress he’s never shown me before. He seems to hesitate, letting out a sigh before he speaks again. “You didn’t leave a candle burning in your shop… It was me… I burned the Ametrine Cauldron to the ground.”
“I knew it was you. Was it retaliation? For the Demons’ Den?”
“Only to make it appear that way… The truth, I did it to keep you safe. You were vulnerable there… I did it to push you closer to Keegan. Vanna, I did it, for you.” He takes a step closer to me, as if he’s going to touch me.
“Don’t!” I back away from him quickly.
He seems slightly pained by it. “Vanna… You can trust me.”
“You’ve literally done nothing to prove to me that I can.” I manage to say through my shock. I knew Legion was behind it, I don’t know why the confirmation hit me so hard. “If anything, you’ve consistently proven that I cannot trust you, at all!”
“You want a blood oath?” he suddenly snaps at me, taking an aggressive step towards me. His words practically drip with venom as he continues, “Will that ease your mind? Shall I bleed before you and swear my fealty to you?”
“What?” I’m too stunned by his sudden aggression and proximity to form any words beyond that.
Legion rips off his cut, chucking it without a care towards the chair beside us. It slips off and lands on the ground…
Dean, Viking, Axel… All the guys in the Saviors MC, would never let their cut touch the ground like that. Legion clearly doesn’t care.
My eyes dart back to him as he rips off the hoodie next, dropping it where he stands as he grabs the knife sheathed at his side. He grips the blade in his hand, his arms and chest taught with what I can only assume is rage. His chest is marred with thin scars. I can’t help but notice they look exactly like Dean’s scars, and his were made by blades.
Legion grabs my wrist, forcing my hand to take the blade and presses it to his chest.
No. Not this again… My memory brings me back to the night Dean forced my hand to hold the tip of a blade to his chest in a similar manner. I struggle in his grip until he begins to press harder, then I freeze, for fear of cutting him deeper.
“Stop!” I protest.
Legion barely even winces as he squeezes my fingers around the handle and drags the blade across his chest, cutting a diagonal slash across himself. Blood trickles down his abdomen.
“I swear by my own blood, that I am not your enemy. That I will never harm you.” He says the words without even the slightest tremor.
“Are you all insane?” I demand. “Let me go!”
He releases me, taking the blade from me with his other hand. “Still not good enough for you?”
I don’t know how to respond, shaking my head at him in bewildered dismay.
Legion turns to grab his cut once more, and I can’t help gasping at the sight of his bare back.
Legion is lean and athletic, with a smaller build than Dean. His back is covered in dark themed tattoos, depicting images of Demons, skulls and Hellfire. There’s a portrait style tattoo of a woman on his shoulder, as well. Half her face is a skull, with one bright grey eye. However, many of the tattoos on his back have been ruined by scars… So, so many scars. Thin, long lines of what was once torn flesh, as if he had been severely whipped. His entire back and shoulders are marred by them.
“Legion.” I whisper, wondering what pain this man has known.
Turning back to face me, he throws the cut down on the ground at my feet, disrespecting it once again as he drops to his knees to kneel upon it in the dirt. Pressing the blade to his flesh once again, he drags it across his chest the opposite way, creating a big, bloody V.
“I swear by my own blood, I am not your enemy, and I vow to do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
Not even a flinch. All I can do is stare at him.
