life for her, and watched her
grow up from a spunky, spoiled brat to a hard edged, determined woman who
survived the shit the Order had to dish out. And losing her drove me to a
violence even Kelsey’s death didn’t achieve. There’s something to be said for
that.
“Kelsey
was my best friend,” I say, softly. The words catch in my throat. I swallow
hard, not sure I can get all of this out, but knowing I don’t have a lot of
options. She deserves this. “Omar was our squad leader, but she was the one we
all followed. It wasn’t just that she was the president’s daughter—it’s that
she threw herself into every fight like there was no way to lose.” I pause.
“Until she did. Omar led us into a mission that we knew was suicide, but he
promised we’d all come home whole.” There’s more. She can look at me, and my
volatile past with Omar, and she’s smart enough to put shit together.
She
knows damn well that there’s more to it.
But
I can’t go deeper than that, not right now.
With
Nurrin, maybe not ever.
“So
why are we trusting him now?” she asks, and I let out a breath. Because even if
it is a question, it’s one I can tolerate.
“Because
it was the only option. No one in 1 was telling me shit, and the longer you
were gone, the more desperate I got. So I got the Order’s attention, shook the
tree a little, and Omar is what fell out.”
“How?”
I
look up at her, and she shivers at whatever she sees in my eyes. Bites her lip
and looks away. No one is okay with the kind of violence I embraced, to get her
back. Even knowing why, I can’t expect her to be able to swallow it.
Her
eyes narrow.
“I
killed Order priests and priestesses until they finally took notice,” I say.
She
stares at me for a long tense moment, and I don’t know if she’ll bolt or if
she’ll accept this—me.
Nurrin
shifts, and tosses me a stick of dried fruit. I catch it from the air and stare
at it as she busies herself strapping on her weapons.
Her
gun—the one I used to kill the Order—she hesitates over, and glances back at me
once.
“It’s
yours,” I say, and she nods once, shoving it into her holster and tucking a few
throwing stars into her pocket. A shiny garrote wire wraps around her wrist.
She
looks savage and beautiful, and like the girl I’ve come to know—not the one I
watched and resented in Hellspawn, but the girl I’ve been forced to get to know
and trust in the Wide Open. I swallow hard, a rush of arousal fighting the
absurd pride I feel for her.
I
have a hard time trusting. After Kelsey, it was almost impossible. I trusted
one person—Collin—to watch my back. To protect me.
But
I trust her.
“Omar
is waiting for us,” Nurrin says, and she holds out my katana.
It’s
not acknowledging what I did. She won’t. But I know what she is doing, and I’ll
take it. I stand, and slip the sword over my head to rest on my back. “Then we
should go. It wouldn’t do to keep the High Priest waiting.”
I
can feel her laughter, a small puff of air on my back as I step out of the
little room that has become ours, with her on my heels.
Chapter
5. The Mad Priest
“WE
CAN TAKE BACK THE EAST.”
Behind
me, Nurrin makes a choked noise. I don’t blame her much. It’s an idiotic claim,
even if Omar does have the best intentions and goals.
He’s
always been a fanatic. When we found him in the Stronghold, I thought he had
channeled that passion into the cult. Stupid, deadly, but in the end, not my
problem.
Now
I realize I was wrong. He was still fighting the same war he had been ten years
ago. But we lost it ten years ago, and we’ll lose it now.
“We
can’t.” I shake my head, “You know we can’t—and even if we could, the loss of
life is too extreme. We can’t afford to have another few million lives tossed
aside for a coast we can’t keep.”
“As
long as we let them have the East, we’ll never put this disease to rest. We’ll
keep hiding behind our walls until
grow up from a spunky, spoiled brat to a hard edged, determined woman who
survived the shit the Order had to dish out. And losing her drove me to a
violence even Kelsey’s death didn’t achieve. There’s something to be said for
that.
“Kelsey
was my best friend,” I say, softly. The words catch in my throat. I swallow
hard, not sure I can get all of this out, but knowing I don’t have a lot of
options. She deserves this. “Omar was our squad leader, but she was the one we
all followed. It wasn’t just that she was the president’s daughter—it’s that
she threw herself into every fight like there was no way to lose.” I pause.
“Until she did. Omar led us into a mission that we knew was suicide, but he
promised we’d all come home whole.” There’s more. She can look at me, and my
volatile past with Omar, and she’s smart enough to put shit together.
She
knows damn well that there’s more to it.
But
I can’t go deeper than that, not right now.
With
Nurrin, maybe not ever.
“So
why are we trusting him now?” she asks, and I let out a breath. Because even if
it is a question, it’s one I can tolerate.
“Because
it was the only option. No one in 1 was telling me shit, and the longer you
were gone, the more desperate I got. So I got the Order’s attention, shook the
tree a little, and Omar is what fell out.”
“How?”
I
look up at her, and she shivers at whatever she sees in my eyes. Bites her lip
and looks away. No one is okay with the kind of violence I embraced, to get her
back. Even knowing why, I can’t expect her to be able to swallow it.
Her
eyes narrow.
“I
killed Order priests and priestesses until they finally took notice,” I say.
She
stares at me for a long tense moment, and I don’t know if she’ll bolt or if
she’ll accept this—me.
Nurrin
shifts, and tosses me a stick of dried fruit. I catch it from the air and stare
at it as she busies herself strapping on her weapons.
Her
gun—the one I used to kill the Order—she hesitates over, and glances back at me
once.
“It’s
yours,” I say, and she nods once, shoving it into her holster and tucking a few
throwing stars into her pocket. A shiny garrote wire wraps around her wrist.
She
looks savage and beautiful, and like the girl I’ve come to know—not the one I
watched and resented in Hellspawn, but the girl I’ve been forced to get to know
and trust in the Wide Open. I swallow hard, a rush of arousal fighting the
absurd pride I feel for her.
I
have a hard time trusting. After Kelsey, it was almost impossible. I trusted
one person—Collin—to watch my back. To protect me.
But
I trust her.
“Omar
is waiting for us,” Nurrin says, and she holds out my katana.
It’s
not acknowledging what I did. She won’t. But I know what she is doing, and I’ll
take it. I stand, and slip the sword over my head to rest on my back. “Then we
should go. It wouldn’t do to keep the High Priest waiting.”
I
can feel her laughter, a small puff of air on my back as I step out of the
little room that has become ours, with her on my heels.
Chapter
5. The Mad Priest
“WE
CAN TAKE BACK THE EAST.”
Behind
me, Nurrin makes a choked noise. I don’t blame her much. It’s an idiotic claim,
even if Omar does have the best intentions and goals.
He’s
always been a fanatic. When we found him in the Stronghold, I thought he had
channeled that passion into the cult. Stupid, deadly, but in the end, not my
problem.
Now
I realize I was wrong. He was still fighting the same war he had been ten years
ago. But we lost it ten years ago, and we’ll lose it now.
“We
can’t.” I shake my head, “You know we can’t—and even if we could, the loss of
life is too extreme. We can’t afford to have another few million lives tossed
aside for a coast we can’t keep.”
“As
long as we let them have the East, we’ll never put this disease to rest. We’ll
keep hiding behind our walls until
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