Scarlet (The Lunar Chronicles #2) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,118
her hands. “Yes?”
His pulse thrummed painfully against his temples. “I can’t give you the girl—we thought we had her, but she’s gotten away again, as I suspect you already know. But I can’t let you continue to murder innocent Earthens while we try and find another way to track her.”
“I’m afraid that’s not my problem, Your Majesty.”
“There’s something else you want, something I can offer. We both know what that is.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you speak of.”
Kai didn’t realize he was gripping his hands, practically pleading with her, until his knuckles started to ache. “If your offer of a marriage alliance still stands, I accept. Your prize for calling off your men will be the Commonwealth.” His voice broke on the final word and he clamped his jaw shut.
He waited, breathless, knowing that every second that passed meant more bloodshed on the streets of Earth.
After an agonizing silence, Levana tittered. “My dear Emperor. How could I resist such a charming proposal?”
Forty-Four
As the ship entered neutral orbit, Scarlet released the air from her burning lungs and slumped into the pilot’s seat. Moaning, all the aches and wounds catching up to her at once, she turned herself around to face the ship’s bay.
Linh Cinder was sitting on the floor with her legs splayed out before her. Wolf, unconscious, was spread-eagle on his back. A streak of blood followed him from the ramp where he’d been dragged. The other man was flopped onto his stomach.
“You’re a pilot,” said Cinder.
Linh Cinder.
Princess Selene.
“My grandma taught me. She was a pilot in—” The words evaporated, her heart aching. “But your ship does pretty well on its own.”
“So glad to be of service,” said the disembodied voice. “I’m Iko. Is anyone hurt?”
“Everyone’s hurt,” said Cinder, groaning.
Scarlet hobbled over to Wolf’s body and sank down beside him.
“Are they going to be all right?”
“I hope so,” said Cinder, “but I’ve never stuck around long enough to see the aftereffects of these darts.”
Scarlet unzipped her shredded hoodie and tied it over the open wound on Wolf’s arm. “You said you had bandages?”
She could see Cinder’s dread at being forced into action again, but soon Cinder pushed herself up and disappeared through a door on the far side of the cargo bay.
A low moan drew her attention to the stranger. He rolled onto his back, cringing.
“Whererewe?” he muttered.
“Oh, you’re awake already,” said Cinder, returning with salve and gauze. “I was hoping you’d stay knocked out awhile longer. The peace and quiet was a pleasant change.”
Despite her tone, Scarlet could sense the relief rolling off the girl as she dropped a tube of salve onto the man’s stomach. She passed the gauze to Scarlet along with another tube of salve and a scalpel. “We need to cut out your ID chips and destroy them, before they track you.”
Easing to a seated position, the man gave Scarlet a hazy, suspicious look and she thought for a moment he’d forgotten where she’d come from, before his attention dropped down to Wolf. “Managed to get the loon on board, huh? Maybe I can find a cage for him in one of these bins. I’d hate for him to kill us in our sleep after all that.”
Scarlet scowled, unraveling a strip of gauze. “He’s not an animal,” she said, focusing on the claw marks on the side of Wolf’s face.
“Are you sure?”
“I hate to agree with Thorne,” said Cinder, “I mean, I really hate to agree with him, but he’s right. We don’t know that he’s on our side.”
Scarlet pressed her lips and pulled out another strip of tape. “You’ll see when he wakes up. He’s not…” She hesitated, and realized a moment later that she couldn’t even convince herself that he was on their side.
“Well,” said the man. “I feel much better.” Tearing a hole in his pants, he dabbed the ointment on the puncture wound from the tranquilizer.
Pulling her hair out of her face, Scarlet ripped open Wolf’s shirt and slathered the medical salve onto the deep gashes across his abdomen. “Who are you?”
“Captain Carswell Thorne.” Recapping the salve, he propped himself against the cargo bay’s wall. His hand landed on the shotgun. “Where did this come from?”
“Scarlet found it in one of the crates,” said Cinder, facing the netscreen on the wall. “Screen, on.”
The screen showed a shaking image of a bloodied man running full speed toward the camera. There was screaming, and then static. A male anchorman behind a desk replaced the video, his face pale. “This is footage fed