choice among bad ones.
They could jump to another sector other than One. But the Reflectives advancing upon them will not be as willing to go to One. There, they would be outnumbered by nightlopers and right back in the mess they'd fought their way out of. Jeb thinks they'll forgo that honor.
Kennet claps him on the back. “I used the pulsenoculars. Ryan is not among them.”
Some of the tension riding his shoulders eases with the news. However, Ryan’s absence just means he could crop up like a weed somewhere else, most likely when Jeb needs him the least.
“Principle dammit.”
Kennet gives a grim nod, folding his arms. Calvin keeps vigil over the growing contingent of Reflectives behind them.
“How long?” Jeb gives him a sharp glance.
Calvin's brow knots, worry on every line of his face. “Five minutes or so.”
They need the wind at their backs from a jump. They should not be standing around, discussing the shit reflection offered by Lake Crystalline.
Slade and Gunnar approach, and Jeb automatically assesses them. Six feet, seven. Two hundred eighty pounds. IQ one hundred thirty-five. His eyes sweep to Slade. One hundred forty for him.
Jeb scowls; a smart enemy is a challenge.
“Picking us apart, Reflective?” Gunnar's inky eyes rake over Jeb.
He doesn't bother answering with a lie. “Yes. I am Reflective.”
“Save the spiel,” Slade says, raising a hand to ward off Jeb's words before he can utter them. “We both understand the esteem in which you all hold yourselves.”
His obvious disdain for The Cause makes Jeb's blood boil.
“Then you should understand how deadly serious we are about seeing The Cause through.”
Slade’s and Jeb's gazes collide. The Bloodling parts his lips with an almost-inaudible hiss.
Beth walks up with Maddie and Jacky. She looks between the two of them and says, “We don't have time for male posturing.”
Jacky points a finger at Jeb and Slade. “Yʼknow…”
“Quiet, Jacky,” Kennet says.
He flips his bangs out of his sweaty face, kicking a loose pebble toward the sludge of the shore. “If we had some more chicks here, there'd be enough hens to offset all the roosters. Yeah.”
Everyone ignores him.
“This is the best reflection we have.” Jeb looks at Gunnar, who jumped using rushing water, and cocks an eyebrow, asking silently for confirmation he can jump the group.
“For proximity,” Beth adds.
Gunnar shrugs. “It can be done, though it is blind water.”
Blind water means that the Reflective cannot see where it will take a jumper. Ascribing a human sense to an inanimate object is not uncommon, but it is odd to hear Reflective phrases and references coming from Gunnar the Bloodling. Judging from Beth's expression, his words strike her the same way.
“I'd give anything to go back to Earth,” Jacky comments sullenly.
“Too risky,” Kennet says, frowning. “Every Reflective who follow us can jump that in their sleep.”
“You guys just have the one lake on a shifter world?” Jacky asks in the general direction of the Bloodlings.
“Sector One,” Beth corrects automatically.
Jacky shrugs, tossing his long bangs again. “God. Okay, let's get this over with and get our asses kicked in the sandbox, because—yeah—it was so fun before.”
Maddie shyly takes Jacky's hand, and Gunnar's brows drop over his black eyes.
Jacky stares him down. “She's my friend, so back off.” Gunnar looks as if he’s about to say something. “She's not into violence. Ya dig? So there are no points for you vamping all over my ass. Just saying.” He scowls at Gunnar.
Jeb interrupts, “We need to jump or stay and fight.”
Gunnar silently walks to Beth and holds out his large hands. After a moment's pause, she slides hers inside his.
Jeb slides a finger through her belt loop, and Kennet places his hands on Maddie. Calvin does the same on Jacky.
Slade rests his hand on Gunnar's shoulder, and Jeb focuses all his anger on Slade.
His answering smile mocks Jeb.
Jeb looks away as familiar heat engulfs his feet. A slow smolder rises up his legs and flings itself to his extremities. He gifts his reflective energy to Beth, as do Kennet and Calvin. The power of the jump swamps their small party as it passes from person to person in a loop.
Jeb hears the Reflectives crashing through the brush that borders the lake, and he scoops out the last of his energy from deep inside, trusting Beth. Trusting her as one would a partner.
The water is suddenly much clearer. And Jeb's next breath is heat edged in ice.
His lungs buck at the familiar beginnings of the jump, then the lake rushes toward him—but not all of it,