“It hurts, doesn’t it?” He brushed a lock of hair from her face, not in a kind way, but to clear his canvas. “I’ve taken you from your family, your job. No one even knows you’re gone. No one suspects that you’re here, with me, giving up all your secrets. Their secrets. And the most delicious part?” He paused to draw a flourish on her skin. “I’m taking your face as well. Your friends would turn away from you in disgust if they saw you now. No one would believe you were Galena Vadim.” He smiled. “You are nothing now.”
It wasn’t until his final question that Galena dared defy him.
“Where is your son?” he asked, passing the device from hand to hand. Everything about him spoke of a man relaxed, comfortable with his place in the world. His role as interrogator.
Torturer.
She relaxed her fists, turned her hands palm up in their restraints. An entreaty. To whom, she didn’t know.
Closing her eyes, she shook her head.
The flame bit into the skin along her nose, between her eyes. She clamped her lips shut, terrified that if she opened her mouth to scream, she’d swallow fire. Inside, she begged for release, for it all to end.
The searing agony didn’t stop, and Elom asked his question again.
Finally, when she felt sure she would die and welcomed the darkness, she forced her blackened lips to smile. “I don’t know where he is, but I know you’ll never find him.”
She couldn’t tell anymore if he was touching flame to skin or not. Her face burned, would forever burn.
In the darkness, in the pain, she heard him say, “Hold on to that secret then, if you must. I have taken everything else.”
And she knew, in the empty tatters of her soul, in the lines of fire in her disfigured face, that he was right.
Chapter 39
For weeks, Aris flew with Major Vidar as her gunner. Almost every mission, he’d order her to land, sometimes far from where the rescue operation took place, and he’d haul his pack onto his shoulders and disappear.
He never told her where he was going, and a day or three later he would appear at morning formation, as if he’d been there the whole time.
“You really don’t know?” Dysis asked one morning, as they left the training ground. Major Vidar had just returned after another of these mysterious missions.
Aris shrugged, hiding her own questions behind bland nonchalance. “He never says.”
“And you don’t ask?” The wide door hissed open, admitting them to the building.
Aris gave Dysis a hard look. “If I was authorized to know, he’d tell me.” Had she wanted to ask? Yes, a million times. She’d even tried once, but he’d ignored her. The truth was, she had so many questions. Where he went, how he’d gotten his scar. How he could be so cool and level-headed all the time, even when the world was exploding.
“Your ability to follow the rules is truly admirable.” Otto made it sound like an insult.
“Who cares where he goes?” Aris grumbled. “It obviously doesn’t concern us.”
“I’ve never heard of officers going on solo missions like that,” Pallas said, looking thoughtful. “It does make you wonder.”
“Could it be something to do with Tarik?” Galec suggested. “Maybe he’s looking for more evidence against Safara?”
Dysis pounded the flat of her hand against her leg as she walked. “If he is, I hope he hasn’t found it. Tarik was enough.”
“I don’t know,” Galec mused. “Helena says there are many who believe Ward Balias’s explanation, that it was all a terrible mistake.”
Otto harrumphed. “Only because Ruslana is backing him. The bacterium must have eaten Ward Vadim’s brain. It’s the only explanation for her nonsensical support of such a snake.”
Pallas’s shoulders tensed. “It’s all such a mess.”
As they rounded the corner, Dysis stopped abruptly. The Commander and Lieutenant Daakon were standing in the middle of the corridor talking.
“—getting closer. It’s imperative we follow this lead quickly and discreetly,” Commander Nyx was saying.
“Commander, is there news of my brother?” Dysis burst out.
Commander Nyx went still. Slowly, he turned to stare at Dysis, and Aris fought the overwhelming urge to flee. “Excuse me, Specialist,” he said coldly and, turning to Daakon, “My office.” Daakon nodded, shooting a wary glance at Dysis.
Aris reached to take Dysis’s arm, to drag her the other direction before she said something stupid, but she didn’t get a chance.
“Why is there no news of Jax? It’s been months, and nothing! You could let me go and look for him. I could be doing something.” Dysis sputtered, the words tumbling over themselves.
The red scars around the Commander’s neck pulsed. “Specialist Latza. We’ve discussed this before. I thought I made myself clear.”
Lieutenant Daakon took half a step away from Commander Nyx. It appeared to be out of deference, but Aris caught a hint of worry in his eyes. She rather thought Daakon was stepping toward Dysis, as if his instinct was to protect her. Well, him. Daakon still didn’t know Dysis was a woman.
Otto elbowed Aris in the ribs; she turned to glare at him. He was backing away. Galec and Pallas were already halfway down the hall. They were smart to retreat, but she couldn’t leave her sectormate. Blight her.
Commander Nyx continued, his voice icy, “There can be no possibility that you do not understand the rules you are to adhere to, so I can only assume you meant to be insubordinate.”
Dysis’s chin went up, but she blanched. “No, sir,” she said gruffly. “I meant only to offer my services.”
The air was so thick with tension, Aris could hardly breathe.
Commander Nyx raised his brows. “Well, then.” He nodded to Lieutenant Daakon. “Please ensure Specialist Latza runs an extra three miles today.”
Daakon gave a smart nod. “Yes, sir.”
Dysis swallowed, but she didn’t say anything more, for which Aris was grateful. Commander Nyx suddenly seemed to notice Aris lurking in the hallway and turned his scowl on her. She fought to keep her knees from shaking. With a final nod, the Commander barked, “Dismissed,” and they hurried back the way they came.
“Why did you do that?” Aris hissed, punching her in the arm.
Dysis clamped her jaws tight, raised her chin, and kept walking toward their room.
Aris slowed. “Okay, well. I think I’ll go check my comms, so . . .”
When Dysis didn’t answer, Aris turned the other direction and headed for the rec room. She was desperate for a shower, but her sectormate obviously needed some cooldown time. She’d just send a quick comm to her parents with a new, hopefully more effective, excuse for not visiting. They were threatening to come see her in Panthea again; it was a blessing her father couldn’t stand the city. Otherwise, she’d never have been able to put them off this long. But they wouldn’t wait forever. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe if she hinted that—
Whomp. Someone flew around the corner and slammed into her, knocking her to the ground.
Somehow Major Vidar kept his feet, but it took him a second to regain his balance. “My apologies, Specialist. I wasn’t paying attention.” He reached out to help her up.
Aris stared at his outstretched hand for a beat too long. Would he see the ripple of the veil when they touched?
“Specialist?”
“Sorry.” She gripped his fingers to pull herself up, then let go so quickly she almost stumbled again.
He made no derisive noise at her clumsiness, which was unlike him. As he pushed past her, she noticed the harried, faraway look in his eyes. He hadn’t lost his hard edge, exactly, but he definitely seemed distracted. Had something happened?
She continued on her way, mulling over this question. Ignoring the heat that clung to her fingers from his touch.
•••
In the darkness of her room, Major Vidar whispered her name.
Aris pulled on her uniform, still groggy, a
nd followed him through the dim building to the wingjet landing pad.
“Sir?” she asked, her voice small in the moon-soaked night.
“Just us tonight, Specialist. Very dangerous mission. You ready?”
She nodded and stepped onto the wing and into the wingjet cabin. He settled into the seat beside her, his arm brushing hers. The moonlight glowed against his pale skin, highlighting his cheekbones and the straight line of his nose.
Before she could ask their destination, he tapped the coordinates into the nav panel.
She closed the shield, and they rocketed off into the night.
“Tell me about the girl,” Major Vidar said.
Aris blinked. She was too tired to concentrate on flying and interpreting his inexplicable questions at the same time. “Sir?”
“The girl you left in Lux. Tell me about her.”
She tensed, uncomfortable with the question. But she had to answer or risk giving herself away. So she thought of Calix, and how he saw her. “She has the most ridiculous hair, sir,” she said, remembering the feel of Calix’s hands threaded through her hair, the way he laughed when it flew wild in the wind. “It’s long and dark, like the shadows of sunset on the sand.”
“Most men begin with a woman’s lips or breasts, Aristos. And you talk about her hair.”
A tiny sigh escaped her lips, as she remembered the warmth of Calix’s hands against her breasts, the pressure of his lips on hers. “Her figure is fine, sir. And her lips are soft, softer than anything I’ve ever touched.” She wanted to tell him how smooth Calix’s skin was, how his lips felt on her throat, on the hollow of her collarbone.
“Did you say goodbye to her properly at least?” he asked, his voice soft in the close darkness of the cabin.
For just a moment, she closed her eyes, imagined, as she had countless times since that night on the beach before Calix left, what it would have been like if he had let them make love, if they’d stayed there in their cave, let their legs entwine, really been together. “I wanted to. More than anything in the world.”
The nav panel beeped, and she began her descent. The landing spot was at the edge of a cliff, a waterfall deep in the heart of Mittaka. In the moonlight the water flashed and winked at her as it threw itself over the edge.
The wingjet hummed onto the ground but Major Vidar made no move to leave. Suddenly, Aris was very aware of his arm against hers, the sound of his breathing. The wingjet had no center console; there was nothing between them but the darkness.
“Do you miss her?”
She tried to imagine herself before the selection ceremony, when her future with Calix had stretched happily, painlessly before her.
“I . . .” Her voice faded into the rumble of the waterfall. She turned toward Vidar’s shadow, saw the thin gleam of his scar. He was staring at her. For an infinite moment, they looked into each other’s eyes.
Before Aris could take a full breath, his lips crushed against hers. His hands clasped her face, and somehow, suddenly, she found herself pulling him closer, he was filling the cockpit, pressing her against the curved side of the shield.
She felt the warmth of his body against her, gasped as he teased her lips open with his tongue. Somehow she’d slid sideways on the seat and her leg was wrapping itself around his back, drawing him down to her.
Her loss of control was complete. Liberating. One simple truth filled her mind: She wanted him.
He ran a hand down her neck, gripped her waist, his mouth hot on hers.
Everywhere he touched her, she burned.
“Aris . . . .” He whispered her name and somehow it was the right one, her true name. She didn’t know how he knew, didn’t care, didn’t dare respond except by arching her hips against his. She let her hands slide along his face, felt the slight bump of his scar, traced it from his eye to his lip.
He turned his head slightly and took her finger in his mouth.
She moaned.
“Aristos?”
The voice wasn’t Major Vidar’s.
With a gasp, she yanked herself out of the dream.
The room was still dark, and her legs were tangled in the sheets, her tunic hitched to her waist. She was panting.
“Are you well? You were . . . making noises.” Dysis sounded like she couldn’t tell whether to be embarrassed or concerned. “Were you having a nightmare?”
“Blighting hell.” The words exploded from her chest. Aris tried to relax, tried to settle her racing heart. What the hell was that?
“Yeah, it was a nightmare,” she said, finally. As soon as the lights flipped on she was out of bed and heading to the washroom. She didn’t look at Dysis.
When she was disguise- and clothing-free, Aris turned on the shower and let the cool water pound against her hot cheeks.
She was just missing Calix. Spending a lot of time with Major Vidar on all these special missions. It was just her subconscious confusing what she really wanted with what she had to deal with everyday.
I want Calix and no one else.
Later, as she lay in bed, she drafted a comm to Calix, saying the words over and over in her mind, so she’d remember them until she could get to the rec room the next day.
Calix, I miss you so much. There are so many things I wish I could talk to you about, so many questions I want to ask you but know I can’t. Sometimes I wonder . . . I get this feeling like everything I’ve thought about the world, everything I’ve thought about myself is all upside down and inside out. I start to think maybe I don’t know anything at all. But I know if you were here, you’d help me figure it out. Be careful. Aris
Chapter 40
The trees outside Pyralis’s office whipped back and forth in the wind. Heavy storm clouds darkened the sky, but it hadn’t started raining yet.
Standing by the wall of glass, Pyralis watched Kellan’s reflection pace back and forth. His anxious energy and wild hair made him look like he’d been struck by lightning.
“The heads of the other sectors want you to call a meeting,” Kellan said. “They need reassurance we’re doing everything we can. And the Tech sector has several new weapons at the final stages of development. We could—”
“Set up the meeting with the sector leaders.” Pyralis didn’t turn around. “And another one with the head of Tech. We need to get those new products to our soldiers as soon as possible.”
Kellan’s reflection nodded as he made notes on his digitablet. “Also, troop strength is weakening in the Mittaka region. Do you want to redistribute several units from along the Fex?”
Pyralis sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to. But send word to the riverside villages that their protective details—fire fighters, law enforcers, all of them—should report for combat training. We need them to be ready if Safaran forces break through our defenses. And send an extra squadron of wingjets to patrol the river.”
“Got it,” Kellan replied, tapping furiously on his tablet.
“Contact my most senior commanders. Move up our next scheduled vid call to tomorrow. That’s all, Kellan. Thank you.”
Silence met Pyralis’s words. He turned; his assistant still hovered in the center of the room, running his hand through his already-disheveled hair. “What is it?”
“We’ve had reports that Ward Vadim is doing more than funneling resources into Safara,” Kellan said, his furrowed brow betraying his reluctance to impart yet more bad news. “It’s still unconfirmed, but it appears she’s also provided them with a small supply of weaponry.”
Pyralis fought the urge to bang his forehead against the wall of glass. “A small supply? What does that mean?”
After Kellan explained and exited the room, Pyralis sank into his chair. The reality of the situation—that Galena had completely turned against him—was more than he could bear. He thought back to when she’d wanted to start a life with him. Their secret, stolen romance so sweet and unexpected.
But, inevitably, he always returned to the same memory. The moment he regretted more tha
n any other in his life.
They’d taken a holiday to the mountains just before he was scheduled to return to Atalanta. On their last evening, he’d walked up to the overlook outside the retreat to think. He’d known what he had to do, but the thought of leaving her, never seeing her again, had been eating at him for months. Now, with the moment at hand, he wasn’t sure he could go through with it.
He’d stood at the edge of the overlook, studying the craggy points of the mountains dip in and out of a wispy line of cloud. Wondering what he could possibly say to Galena. How he could possibly say goodbye.
The sun sank along the edge of the furthest peak, gilding the snow that blanketed the valley below. Behind him, Galena called his name.
He had turned as she walked toward him. She was bundled in a white coat, the fur-lined hood framing her beautiful face. When she smiled at him, her ice-blue eyes glowed as if filled with the soft warmth of prayer candles.
He couldn’t remember the words he’d chosen to break her heart. But he’d never forget how that light in her eyes had died.
Chapter 41
Sorry it’s taken me so long to write, Aris. There was another raid and we’ve been busy picking up the pieces. I wish I had good news, I wish I could say I enjoy patching people up, that the number of injured soldiers is dwindling, but it would be a lie. The truth is I’m exhausted. I’ve seen so many faces over the past months, so much blood. Every time I let myself think we’ll have a reprieve, there won’t be any violence for a while, another explosion lights up the horizon. And the bodies follow.
I miss you. Before I fall asleep, I always think of you, pretend you’re resting in my arms with your hair spread across my chest. As soon as I get home, you’re going to get us one of your father’s mangoes, and we’re going to sit on the beach and watch the sunset and eat mango until our faces and hands are sticky. I haven’t had fresh fruit in weeks.
The Diatous Wars 1: Rebel Wing Page 18