our females.”
I'm here to take your daughter to the very man who imprisoned our race.
Gunnar's hand claps Slade’s shoulder. “What troubles you?”
My deceit, Slade thinks but doesn't say.
“It is much to adjust to.”
Gunnar's eyes become hooded. “Perhaps you should have sought the answers yourself, instead of bloodshed and useless scheming to procure our females.”
Slade whirls on him, shaking off his hand. “There were not enough Bloodlings to fight for our females.”
Gunnar nods slowly. “But with me, we could get them back.”
“You're one Bloodling. One.” Slade bares his fangs.
He studies Slade. “This is not a numbers game, prince—but a battle of strategy. It will not be won with bloodlust, feuding and loss of life.” Gunnar taps his temple. “It will be won with intellect, every bit as fine of a weapon as the one you hold at your waist.”
Slade's hand reflexively moves to his weapons belt.
Gunnar nods and smiles. “I have you thinking in another direction.”
“Yes.” He has no idea.
Gunnar rubs his hands together, looking around him. “Well now, we've fed.” He looks at Slade. “Or rather, I've fed.”
He begins walking. “First order of business is to locate Commander Rachett and thank him.”
Slade follows hesitantly.
“Thank him for what?”
“For killing Lucinda.”
Slade halts, watching Gunnar's broad back as he continues toward the outline of buildings far in the distance. They'd been lucky to stumble across women picking berries at the edge of the forest. The majority of inhabitants were miles beyond them.
No doubt sensing Slade did not follow, Gunnar turns. “What?”
“I thought nightlopers—”
“They did,” Gunnar says in a flat voice. “But her people came to save her. Ultimately, Rachett did the hardest thing. The best thing. He killed her so she might be free of the agony.”
He walks back to where Slade stands. The fiery ball of the sun begins to sink behind him, backlighting Gunnar in scarlet. The stains of his feed look like cast patches of shadow over his face, hands, and neck.
“Lucinda was too injured to live. Even her extensive recuperative abilities couldn't make her whole. So Rachett ended her suffering.”
He turns away, sadness etched on every plane of his face. “I came when she was gone.”
“And you killed them.”
He whirls, his eyes blazing at Slade. A trick of the dying sun creates bloody pools there. “Not all.”
“Dimitri.” Slade states as fact.
“Precisely.”
Silence rules the two Bloodlings for another full minute, then Gunnar claps his hands together. “Let's go get her, shall we?”
“Who?” Slade asks, unable to hide his surprise.
“Why that hopper you've got your heart set on, who is also my daughter.”
He knows. Gunnar knows I'm here to steal Beth for Dimitri.
“The tiny Reflective—I hear everything. There is no secret that is too buried for my ears.”
“What did you hear?” Slade asks quietly, fearing a dagger in his back the minute it's turned.
“That you lust after her, of course.”
He flips his fingers toward himself. “Moonlight is burning. Let us be on our way.” Gunnar continues on without waiting for Slade's response.
That is good.
Slade couldn't have said anything even if he wanted to.
CHAPTER NINE
Beth
“A word?” Jeb interrupts Beth as she converses with other Reflectives.
Their faces swivel to Jeb then her.
Heat rises to Beth’s face. So much has changed since they were here as reluctant partners. She's helpless to remove the new component to their relationship, and she’s ill-equipped to navigate the unfamiliar and treacherous waters of their new relationship.
Jeb doesn't seem to have that trouble.
His tone of voice says so much, and her shoulders stiffen in anticipation of his next words.
Beth's heart had lifted at the sight of The Cause Headquarters being put to rights. But now… now Jeb's back to the hard soldiering Reflective of before.
Not a trace of the tender Jeb remains.
Jeb takes her gently by the elbow, and Beth tries to ignore the burning eyeballs at her back.
“Rachett is nowhere to be found,” he announces quietly.
Beth nods, her spirit sinking at confirmation of terrible news, but it makes sense. Rachett was the logical Reflective to put out of commission if a takeover had been in the making.
It's what Beth would've done.
“Yes,” Beth answers, keeping pace with Jeb’s long strides away from the knot of Reflectives keeping tabs on their every move. “I've been made aware.”
“Did you also know that the female Reflectives have been jumped?”
Beth spins to face him, her heart lodged inside her throat as she grips his arm.
“What? No!” she says loudly.
Jeb forgets where they are—and all semblance of professionalism—as he cups her face.
“You are all who remains.”
Beth takes a shaky step away and slaps a