She lets out a short laugh.
“I swear, Wen. You know what? Every person in every system is going to know your name someday. I’ll make it my personal mission. No one’s going to forget Wen Iffan again.”
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“Someone’s gotta.” I hold out her umbrella, and she plucks it delicately out of my hands, turning it end over end. Her eyes catch on the bloodstains and darken. “C’mon,” I say, standing. “Let’s get you set up here. ID, room, everything.”
Wen rises and grabs my elbow before I have a chance to offer it. The evening outside is melting into night, and in the cool blue light of the darkened hangar, I barely catch her softer smile. “You’re never getting rid of me. You know that, right?”
“I know.” When I first met her, that sentiment would have been terrifying. But I need more constants in my life, and even if this one comes with mob trouble, wields a rainbow umbrella, and nearly blew me up yesterday, something in my gut tells me she’s worth it.
Wen pops the umbrella open, slings it onto her shoulder, and pulls us along the edge of the hangar as the guards trail in our wake. When we duck out a side door, we nearly run headlong into an emissary from General Iral, who offers the general’s most profuse apologies for the misunderstanding. I glance down at Wen, wary. I don’t know if she knows Gal was the one who allowed them to send her away, and I’m not sure if I should tell her. For the sake of Gal’s safety, it’s probably better that I don’t.
“She’s staying,” I assure the woman after an awkward pause. “She goes where we go. And she won’t be stealing anything. Right?”
Wen smiles, pulls a knife, three wallets, and a printed photo of a toddler out of her pockets, and presses them into the emissary’s hands one by one. I give the woman my falsest, most apologetic smile, then march Wen out of her sight before she has a chance to create any more chaos.
* * *
—
I know what’s waiting for me in that dorm.
The time it takes to get Wen her own badge and room gives me plenty of chances to envision the way this is about to go down. I stand on the edge of the intake office with my arms folded as she flashes the camera a toothy smile, trying my best to get a handle on the simmering fury inside me.
Gal needs me to be calm. He needs me to be rational.
But then Wen gets her card—a legit ID, maybe the first one she’s ever carried. I escort her to her first comfortable bed in months and watch over my shoulder as one of the soldiers points her toward her first hot shower in years.
And then I blow into our room like dreadnought boltfire.
“How the rut can you justify telling them to send her away?” I roar.
Gal startles—his datapad topples out of his hands, and he scoots back against the head of the bottom bunk. “Ettian—”
“Don’t…Don’t try to…” I rub my hands over my face, feeling the furious heat that’s built up in my cheeks. “She was lucky to get away half-burned. She has an entire army of mobsters out for her blood in that city, and you tried to send her right back to them alone.”
“Wen can handle herself,” Gal says, straightening up. His hands are balled into fists at his side. He’s holding something back.
I’m not. “That doesn’t mean she should have to! What the rut is wrong with you?”
Gal moves so fast that not even my Viper-honed instincts have time to react. In the blink of an eye, he’s on his feet, his hands catching me across the chest as he shoves me back against the wall. My head throbs where it hits. Gal’s forearm digs into my collar, making my breath go shallow.
He leans up slowly, carefully, his lips curving around to my ear. “I’ve checked every inch of this room for bugs and cameras, but I’m