shoulder as if the nerve endings are finally coming back to life.
“Wake up.” A third sting.
This time, my arms works properly and I grab—a wrist. My eyelids pop open, and I come face-to-face with Elena. I don’t think, I just act, balling my free hand and throwing a punch. Her nose breaks, and she grunts. There’s no blood. Right. The Shell. No lasting damage for her.
As I release her and sit up, she readjusts her nose with a hiss. I take stock. I’m in another palatial tent, the scarves surrounding me a vibrant shade of purple. The pillows scattered about are cobalt. There’s a tub, but it’s empty. In the center, glowing stones are stacked next to a tray of half-eaten fruit and crumpled candy-bar wrappers. More chocolate meant for me...that this girl has obviously eaten.
I’ll do as I told her during our first meeting and go through her ribs. I’ll—
Do nothing. I wouldn’t touch Killian’s chocolate with a ten-foot pole. It’s a bribe for my forgiveness, nothing more. But...then I see one of the wrappers isn’t completely empty and make a dive for it. Okay, okay. While I wouldn’t touch the chocolate with a ten-foot pole, I will touch it with my fingers.
I stuff the goodness into my mouth and savor.
Kissed me simply to drug me. Anger ignites. Not forgiven, Killian Flynn. Not forgiven!
“Where’s Killian?” I ask.
“He was called away on Myriad business.” She smirks at me. “Right now, I’m in charge of your care.”
Killian’s attempt to look out for me, as promised, even though he’s not here, won’t soften me. “I can take care of myself.”
“Says everyone ever. But it’s only pride talking, so I never listen. Pride is a nasty bitch.”
“So is greed. And gluttony.” I arch a brow at her.
“Actually, I threw the pieces outside.”
Spite is a nasty bitch. “You don’t like me,” I say. “Noted. The feeling is mutual. You can go now.”
“I take orders only from Killian, and even then it’s iffy.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “He told me to watch over you, so I’ll watch over you. I’m guessing you’re a flight risk.”
She isn’t wrong.
I stand, grunting as sore muscles and bruised bones protest. I explore the tent, cataloging exits, searching for weapons, and find a small room sectioned off from the rest of the tent by red scarves. Inside is a temporary bathroom: portable toilet, rags, a mirror, a toothbrush and a hairbrush, a bowl of water and a calendar that leans against the mirror.
Curious, I reach for it. A blue light appears in the glass. Not just a light but words. A note from Killian.
Stick around, and I’ll allow you to punish me. Leave, and I’ll do the punishing. Yours, K.
PS: I wasn’t sure what you loved so much about the calendar Vans took from you, but I wanted you to have a new one.
Nothing he does or says right now should please me, but I am softening. This boy...oh, this boy. He’s a wealth of contradictions.
I hug the calendar to my chest then brush my teeth and hair and use the water to wash up.
“You done in there?” Elena calls. “Or are you constipated?”
Nice.
I hide the toothbrush in the waist of my shorts and leave the relative privacy of the bathroom to find her seated and sharpening a dagger with a stone. An attempt to intimidate me, I’m sure.
“About time.” She doesn’t glance in my direction, just keeps rubbing the stone over the blade. “You’re filling Killian’s head with foolish ideas and you need to stop.”
“Foolish ideas?”
“Yeah. How about this doozy? Firstlife matters. Oh! The ever-popular work with your enemy, because he’ll never stab you in the back. And let’s not forget my favorite. Winning isn’t everything.” The rubbing stops for a moment, only to start up again—faster. “You’re going to make a terrible General.”
“Agreed. That’s one of myriad reasons I haven’t turned in my application for employment.” I smirk at her. “Myriad. Get it?”
The gaze she levels on me is pure irritation.
Humor not appreciated. Noted. “Wow. Look at us.” I sit across from her, keeping the glowing stones between us. A buffer. I smile sweetly. “We’re bonding. Practically sisters.”
Her motions grow choppy. “If Killian fails to sign you, he could be decommissioned. You get that, don’t you?”
I go tense. “He told me he wouldn’t be killed.”
“He lied.”
He wouldn’t do that...would he? Unless this is her attempt to manipulate me?
“Though we have no idea who arranged your execution, Killian lobbied for you, convinced the Generals and even