Bonds of Brass (The Bloodright Trilogy #1) - Emily Skrutskie Page 0,111

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“So there I was,” Esperza says, gesturing expressively with her stump. “Back to back with Lietta Omoe—her in her powersuit with a fully charged vibrosword snarling in her hands, me with no ruttin’ armor and one ruttin’ pistol. The most honorable Nova Knight and a ratty Umber-born pirate who didn’t realize what she was getting into when she targeted this particular freighter.”

I hate to tear her away—especially with the way Wen’s eyes keep flicking back to the unmistakable burn scars that wreath Esperza’s missing wrist—but I don’t trust myself to hear whatever knight story the colonel is spinning and maintain my emotions. Not on a night like this. I tap Wen on the shoulder and hitch my thumb toward the darkness and quiet that fringes the fires.

She pulls a face, but comes willingly. I offer my arm, seeing the way she sways when she stands, and even though she scowls at the implication, she takes it. The feeling of her hand slipping around my elbow sinks a heavy stone through my conscience, sobering me almost instantly.

Wen trusts me to hold her up.

And I’m only going to let her down in the end.

“What’s up?” Wen asks, staring out at the distant shadows of ships staged along the runways. All preflight checks have been done, all practice runs have been flown, and all that remains is to strap in tomorrow morning and blast off for real.

I brace myself, trying to summon the truths she needs to hear. “I wanted to talk to you before there’s no going back. I want to be sure you’re…sure.”

That earns me a reproachful look. “I’ve been committed since we got here.”

“I’m just saying, there are easier ways to get off Delos. If that’s all you want to do, there’s no need to throw yourself into a fight you have no stake in.”

“If you don’t think I have a stake in this fight, you haven’t been paying attention,” she replies with a wry smile and a nudge of her shoulder.

Under any other circumstances, I’d be moved. But now I just feel sick. “It’s a war, Wen. It’s going to be a war.”

“I was born war-ready. I’ve been at war my entire life. You, though,” she says, her voice going soft with concern. “You seem like you’re worried you might not be able to handle another war.”

She doesn’t know the half of it. How terrifying it is to see this war looming on the horizon. How far I’ll go to keep it from happening. She’s getting swept away in stories of heroism and missing the brutal reality of the lies I’ve woven around her. If I were noble, if I were anything near good, I’d tell her the truth right now.

But the thought of an oncoming war has reminded me of a fact I can’t escape. After all of the grief I got about finding Wen a role in our scheme, I’ve made sure no one can contest that she’s needed.

Which means I can’t give her a chance to walk away.

Wen trusts me absolutely, and on the other side of this assault is the moment she sees me for what I really am. The moment I lose her for good—because I have no illusions that it could go any other way. It’s going to break my goddamn heart, and I’ll deserve every ounce of the pain.

So instead, I let her lean on me for a moment longer, breathing in the smoke, soaking in the electric night around us. “I’ll be fine. I’ve done it before,” I mutter, and Wen squeezes my arm.

“I believe you,” she says, then ducks back toward the fires before she can notice how deeply those words cut.

* * *

—

The Ruttin’ Hell departs the next morning, her cargo hold packed with ten hungover Archon soldiers and all of their tactical gear. I fly, with Gal sitting rigidly in the copilot’s seat and Wen lurking behind us, belted to an attendant bench that folds out of the rear of the cockpit.

It’ll take four days for the assault fleet to make it to Tosa System, and that’s including one full day