Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,85

stalked across the short distance, her chin tucked and her fists knotted at her sides. Sunlight flashed off the orange scars that laced her lips and jaw, and her mouth pulled into a stark line. Nausea twisted again in Caledonia’s belly and hot saliva flooded her mouth. A fresh surge of adrenaline pushed at her heart as her body prepared to fight. To kill.

Then Cepheus stooped to roll Tassos onto his back. His eyes stared at the sky and his head lolled to one side, blood painting his throat scarlet. With a surprisingly gentle hand, Cepheus drew his eyes shut, then reached for the gun still holstered at his side.

The instant she drew the weapon, Oran and Pisces drew theirs. But Cepheus ejected the clip, then cleared the round from the chamber and laid the empty weapon against Tassos’s chest. When she was done, she offered the clip to Caledonia.

“Tassos has been defeated in a challenge of his making,” she said, and the words had the ring of ritual. “His clip is yours to take, his bullets yours to spend.”

Caledonia searched Cepheus’s face for any sign of resistance or calculation. The woman met her gaze openly, a tiny smile perched in the corner of her mouth. If it was a ploy, Caledonia could see no trace of it. The other Bullets shifted but made no move to resist.

Reaching out, Caledonia took the offered clip in her own hand, suddenly unsure of her role in this ritual. But it didn’t matter. She was not a Bullet. She would never be a Bullet, and if she wanted to make room for others to choose not to be Bullets, then she had to start somewhere. This, as Sledge was so fond of saying, was the real fight.

“I do not spend bullets lightly,” she said. “And I do not take anyone who does not consent to fight for me. But before you can consent, you must purge the Silt from your blood.”

Even as she spoke, she could see the first signs of withdrawal in Cepheus. Her skin blanched white around her lips and eyes and sweat beaded along her brow and temples. Soon, she would succumb to the full effects of Silt withdrawal and she would need care. They all would.

“No.” Cepheus shook her head sharply, a threat building in her eyes. She stepped forward, closing the three Bullets out of their conversation. “From Silt comes strength. Tassos was right: if we don’t find whatever Silt is left in this town, then it won’t matter that you killed Tassos. His Bullets will defect to Lir. We need Silt.”

Caledonia nodded, thinking of all the times she’d sent Bullets back to Lir rather than force them through their sweats. Then, it had been a question of resources. Cloudbreak simply couldn’t support the process of weaning several hundred Bullets from Silt, and she couldn’t assume the risks that followed. She could do the same thing now. Send these Silt-deprived Bullets to join Lir’s ranks and drain his resources. But this wasn’t Cloudbreak, and she was tired of releasing Bullets just to fight them again another day.

“This is not a negotiation. Every Bullet in this city will be relocated to the prison hold. They will be fed and cared for while they recover, and after that, they can make their own choices.”

“That’s not a choice,” Cepheus said through bared teeth. “That’s coercion.”

“Cepheus, please,” Pisces urged, stepping forward. “Let us help you.”

Cepheus seemed to soften under Pisces’s concern, and she bit down on whatever it was she’d been prepared to say.

“I won’t make you fight,” Caledonia continued. “But that drug doesn’t make you strong. It makes you weak. It makes you dependent on whoever controls it.”

“You’d rather we were dependent on you.”

Caledonia leaned in. Cepheus was imposing, but Caledonia was no longer the same girl she’d been a turn ago, and as she closed the distance between them, she caught a quiver of uncertainty on the woman’s lips.

“I don’t want anything from you. You are all but useless to me,” Caledonia said, not unkindly. Where once this conversation would have frustrated Caledonia, now she understood it. To Cepheus, there had never been life without Silt. She didn’t yet trust that its absence was anything more than a punishment.

“If we’re so useless, why should we let you imprison us?” Cepheus asked.

Stepping around her, Caledonia returned to Tassos’s body. For a moment she could only stare at the blood pooling beneath his head, recalling its slick heat as it had coated