along the ocean. The people there had been islanders back on Earth and had fostered and protected their culture here on Calyx. It wasn't uncommon to see the knives—balisongs—sold in the open air markets in the seaside city.
Considering the way she wielded the weapon, it was clear she was handy with a blade. Perhaps she wasn't totally helpless. Somewhere along the way she had learned some self-defense techniques. After watching Bruno abuse her, he had a bad feeling she had been hurt and bullied her entire life.
The strangest pang invaded his chest as he imagined a smaller, younger version of D.D. suffering at the hands of others. Annoyed by the flare of concern, he pushed it aside. She's the enemy. She's one of them. She wants to kill you. Don't be fooled.
She cut a slit in the top of the orange and then expertly peeled the rind from the juicy flesh. The citrus scent that tickled his nose made Terror's mouth water. It had been so long since he had eaten anything but the watery broth and stale bread they infrequently provided. To watch her peel and eat the fruit in front of him was yet another torment.
But she didn't take a bite of the plump orange wedge that she plucked from fruit. She held it up to him, eyebrows raised questioningly, and waited for his reaction.
Terror wavered with indecision. What if the fruit had been injected with poison or a serum that might loosen his lips? What if Bruno's cruelty had been planned? He felt sorry for her, didn't he? Now she was offering him this bit of food with a shy, nervous smile. Was this the way she planned to enthrall and eventually trick him?
That endearingly sweet expression she wore confounded him. He needed to know if it was real or an act. To do that, he would have to embrace the cold bastard within him—and be exceedingly mean.
Parting his lips, he leaned forward as far as his chains would allow and lowered his head. She took a timid step toward him and brought the orange segment toward his mouth. This close, he was able to inhale the clean, earthy scent of her and to see the deep flecks of color in her blue irises. The light freckles dusting her nose and cheeks drew his interest.
D.D. pushed the cool, plump flesh of the fruit between his lips and waited until he had sunk his teeth into it to drop her hand. She pulled back as fast as an inquisitive child touching a stove for the first time. His eyelid drifted closed as he relished the succulent citrus flavor washing across his parched taste buds. It was like tasting fucking sunshine.
When he had extracted every last bit of the delicious juice from the pulpy meat of the segment, he balled it up with his tongue—and spit the entire soggy mess right back into her face. Startled by the chewed up fruit and saliva splattering her cheek and eye, she yelped and jumped.
In that moment, Terror understood that she was more complicated than he had ever imagined. In times of shock, it was difficult for any agent, even the best trained, to mask a true response. Provoking a real reaction with such a disgusting deed had been the easiest way to tear away her mask and see what was underneath.
But there was no irritation or anger in her expression. No, there was only confusion and hurt written on her face. The raw sincerity of it made his gut clench. And there was something else, something haunting in those brilliantly blue eyes of hers that he couldn't quite decipher. Perhaps she wasn't an agent after all. Perhaps she simply was an innocent, naïve young woman who had been pressed into Splinter service.
With his own face a stony mask of indifference, he watched her carefully. Would she prove herself to be just as nasty as the people she lived with and worked for? Would she lash out or injure him for his ugly stunt?
She reached up and slowly wiped the soggy mess from her face. Still holding the partially peeled orange, she carried the chewed up fruit to the dented bucket used for refuse and dropped it inside. She retrieved a handkerchief from her bag, wiped the sticky juice from her skin and turned her back toward him.
Senses on edge, he inhaled measured breaths and listened carefully. She stepped just beyond his line of sight again but he could feel her moving