Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,179

it.

“You can’t steal their zyttrium,” she said.

Monsieur Renard snorted. “Why not? They stole it first.”

“They need it to survive.”

“So do we,” Madame Renard said with a shrug.

“I won’t let you go through with it.”

Her father cackled and stood up from his chair. He began to stalk menacingly toward Chatine. She backed away until she was pressed up against the wall of the chalet. “And how on Laterre do you plan on stopping us? Are you going to chase after us in your condition?” He glanced down at her leg and let out a pitying cluck of his tongue. “Oh yes, I heard about your little injury.” His hand reached toward her left knee. His fingers outstretched.

Chatine braced herself. The pain came a second later. A sharp, penetrating bolt as her father’s grip squeezed around the fabric of her pants, twisting the flesh of her wound.

“You’re not going to try to stop us,” he breathed against her cheek, and Chatine flashed back to the thousands of other moments in her life when her father had threatened her. Hurt her. Breathed his rancid breath on her until she backed down.

Because she always backed down.

Because he was Monsieur Renard, leader of the Délabré gang. And she was just a lowly Fret rat, dependent on him for food and shelter and survival.

He squeezed her leg harder, and she felt a wave of dizziness rush through her. “You’re going to keep your wretched little mouth shut and let us do what we came here to do. And if you help us out, we might even be nice and give you five percent.”

“I thought it was ten,” Chatine muttered through her clenched teeth.

Her father snorted. “Chatine, Chatine. Have I taught you nothing? First offers always come with an expiration. I suggest you take this second offer now before it, too, expires.”

She grimaced through the pain, the anger building inside of her.

“Just think, Chatine,” her father whispered silkily. “Five percent can set you up for good. Five percent can get you the life you always wanted.”

The life she always wanted.

The words flittered jarringly through her mind, like they didn’t quite fit together. The sentence was complete, but she couldn’t make sense of it.

What was the life she always wanted? For a while, she thought it could be found on Usonia, far away from Laterre and its harsh laws and unjust Regime. But now? Somehow Usonia didn’t seem far enough. Or maybe it was never the distance that she craved. Maybe it was something else.

Something that she’d stumbled upon without even knowing it.

With a sudden, fierce determination, Chatine lifted her hands and planted them on her father’s chest. Grimacing through the pain, she shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled back—more out of surprise than Chatine’s actual strength—and fell onto the bed.

“What the—” he growled but Chatine cut him off.

“Shut up,” she snapped. Her mother opened her mouth to speak but Chatine cut her with a glance. “Both of you. This is how it’s going to work.”

Her father’s shock quickly gave way to a knowing smile. “Ah, there’s the Chatine we know and love. A counteroffer. I’m listening.”

Chatine took two purposeful steps toward him. “You’re going to pack up your things and leave. Tonight. You’re not going to speak to anyone. You’re not going to take anything that doesn’t belong to you. You’re just going to leave and never come back.”

Monsieur Renard leaned forward slightly, waiting for the rest. “And?”

“And nothing,” Chatine fired back.

Monsieur Renard shared a look with his wife before they both broke into wild hoots of laughter. “Well, well, well,” he said through his cackles. “Look at our little Fret rat all grown up and making demands she can’t follow through on.”

“I can follow through,” Chatine swore.

“Oh yeah?” Madame Renard replied, amused. “You and what droid army?”

“I don’t need an army.” Chatine glared at her father. “You, of all people, must remember how quickly I can ruin your plans with nothing more than a scream. If you don’t leave right now, I will scream. It will be the loudest thing you have ever heard. And then, when they all come running, I will tell them everything. I will tell them who you really are. I will tell them what you’ve done. All of it. Every con, every crime, and every severed toe. I will even tell them what you did to baby Henri.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Chatine saw her mother flinch.

“Yes,” she went on. “I know the truth. I know