Traitor

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Traitor Page 7

by Alyson Santos


  Fact: She’s asleep at the moment.

  Fact: He’ll let me know when she’s finished and stable enough for visitors.

  I thank him and ask to be woken up as soon as I’m allowed to see her. He does his normal supervisor protest but finally agrees, thus ending the conversation of facts as Lance Corporal Novelli.

  My roommates receive the news about as poorly as I expect. I’m sorry to leave them alone with their drama, but I’m too drained to be a support system right now. Instead, I bury myself in a journey through weathered ceiling lumps.

  The giant serpent is strong and horrifyingly resilient. I scream as Kaleb slashes at its crown of heads, only to be driven back by instant regeneration when he hits.

  “I’m coming!” I call out.

  “No! Stay away, Andie!”

  But I only succeeded in distracting him. He turns back to the battle just as black fangs sink into his arm. A sickening crunch drags him down, and venomous saliva mixes with Kaleb’s blood. He struggles to tear away, but a head latches onto his other arm and locks him against the stone. His sword clatters across the floor.

  “Kaleb!” I rush forward but can’t cover any ground. A third set of fangs crush his side. A fourth. And a fifth. My cries echo throughout the endless cavern that refuses to surrender any distance. His eyes turn on me, apologetic as the life bleeds from them. I keep running, fighting the darkness, but the distance never shrinks. I can’t get to him. Why does his relief match my panic?

  “No!”

  His expression is so sad, so soft as he releases his final breaths. “It’s okay, Andie. You don’t know what I am.”

  “Andie. Andie, hey.”

  I’m still dreaming. A tickle on my arm, no wait, a poke. It jabs harder and I swat it away.

  “Andie!”

  I groan a warning at the pest, but it keeps stabbing, hissing its annoyance, and I roll toward it. My eyelids flutter open to meet a dark figure materializing beside my bed. Oh shit, the serpent!

  I gasp and bolt from the pillow. The shadow chuckles, and I squint into the dim light streaming from the living room. I curse at Kaleb’s smile.

  “What the hell?”

  “You told me to wake you.”

  “You could have just called.” I climb from my bunk and ignore his attempt to help. I guess I’m still mad at him for not abusing his position of authority after Vi’s fall. And maybe for sacrificing himself to a stupid snake in my dream.

  “I didn’t want to disturb your roommates in the other room. Vi is cleaned up and fully alert. Come on, I’ll take you to her.”

  “Oh, thank god. Let me change first.”

  He leans against the bedframe as I grab a sweater from my drawer. I turn to scold his lingering presence, but the critique dissolves into horror. He’s still covered in her blood. My breath catches at the sight, and his scars suddenly seem to bleed through the stained uniform. It may not be his now, but it was then. It was Kaleb on the pavement eight months ago, enduring whatever it was that required extensive therapy and reconstructive surgery. It was Kaleb writhing, screaming for mercy, fighting—

  “You look awful,” I whisper. I swallow the true depth of my reaction. He wouldn’t like it any more than I do. “No! Wait, that’s not what I meant. You’re still attractive, it’s just…” I turn away, face on fire. I feel the blood pounding through every artery above my heart.

  “Uh, thanks?”

  My blush deepens. “Never mind. Are we going or what?” It’s the perfect moment to pull my sweater over my head.

  “I don’t know. I kind of want to continue this conversation about how attractive I am.”

  His smirk makes it worse, but I still manage an eye roll. “You would. I’m sleep-deprived and delusional. Calm down.”

  He grins and leads me toward the door. “Whatever you say.”

  I don’t understand how anyone could ever hurt this man.

  Not knowing the way to the infirmary doesn’t slow me down. I’m three steps ahead of Kaleb as we make our way through the sleeping building. Sure, it’s excitement at seeing Vi, but it’s also freedom, the empty halls providing a break from the masses.

  I peek back at Kaleb to find a cocky smile on his lips. Of course he’s still in his glory at my slip. Even worse, the boyish charm sneaking past his typical severity wreaks havoc on my insides. He’s so desperate to make a liar out of me with the taunt in his gaze, but I refuse to give in. Engaging him would just invite more teasing, more hot cheeks and awkward explanations, because the truth is, it wasn’t midnight madness. Even certifiably conscious I think he’s attractive, extremely attractive, and the closer we get, the more beauty I uncover.

  It’s his smile, his eyes, and the way I can sense the layers that would consume me if he let me in. There’s something exceptional inside of him. Something intelligent, kind, resilient, loyal and selfless. Kaleb Novelli is magnetic, hypnotic to me, and I thank my lucky stars I didn’t use a more incriminating word in that moment. It could have been a lot worse.

  We finally reach the infirmary, and I run toward the dark head poking through a mound of blankets. Vi smiles up at me, looking like this is just another day in the life of Viktoria Callahan.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Kaleb says.

  Relief spreads through me, and I suspect it’s from more than the smile of my injured friend as I drop to the chair beside her. “It’s about time, Callahan.”

  “Well, if it isn’t my knight in shining armor.”

  “Oh, please. I stuck my jacket under your head.”

  “The docs said you probably saved my life.”

  “Really?”

  “No,” she snorts. “But still, I appreciate what you did. It took guts to jump into a mess of blood and you didn’t even hesitate.”

  I breathe a sigh and squeeze her hand.

  “I like the new hair,” I say, and she rubs her shaved head.

  “Yeah? Me too. I’m thinking I might keep it.”

  “You should. You have the features to pull it off. Think of all the time you’ll save in the morning.”

  “You may be convincing me.”

  I’m not being nice. She looks great. Her sharp cheekbones and dark eyes could carry any hairstyle.

  “How’s the pain?”

  “Fortunately, it’s bad enough that I get plenty of those awesome drugs they save for times like this.”

  I can’t help but grin. “Look at you, Miss Optimist.”

  “I’d laugh at that, but I’m not supposed to move my head.” Her face changes as her eyes search mine. “Seriously, though, thanks for coming. I know I haven’t been the best roommate.”

  “It’s okay. We’ve all been struggling to adjust to our new lives.”

  “I know, but I envy your ability to pick out the good in people.”

  “I’ve learned that most people aren’t good or evil, just adapted to their circumstances.”

  She stares at the vacant doorway. “About Kaleb. I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time.”

  “He might be one of the rare all good ones,” I return, only half-joking.

  “You know, he’s stayed with me every second he could? I was so scared and he… He’s been an angel.” Maybe we can blame her tears on the meds, but I never thought I’d see her cry.

  “He cares about us. He’s different.”

  Her gaze wanders as she raises a free hand to wipe at her eyes. “I’ve always hated soldiers. They were animals who harassed my mother. They’d call her a ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ and even physically assault her.”

  My heart breaks as her tears return.

  “I’m so sorry, Vi.”

  “See my father was some big-shot officer. A major or colonel or something. Mom was his civilian secretary and apparently he deemed her worthy of a fling. When she got pregnant, he humiliated her t
o save his own ass and sent her to 12 to disappear. Everyone knew her story though, and she was never able to recover from it.”

  “That’s awful. No wonder you were upset about my assignment.”

  She meets my eyes again. “I thought you were being naïve. I thought you’d be used the same way my mother was. That’s what they do, use us and throw us away. But… it’s different now.” She releases a half-smile. “I get it.”

  She smacks the air with her hand. “Shit. Listen to me sobbing and preaching because some soldier was nice to me.”

  “I think he changes people.”

  “Yeah, well, as long as I don’t start planting flowers and writing poetry.”

  I laugh. “You do work in the greenhouse.”

  “Whatever.”

  A light knock on the wall draws our attention, and my cheeks warm at the presence of our favorite building supervisor. Even from this distance I’m affected.

  “How’s it going, ladies?” Kaleb asks, joining me by the bed.

  “You look like you spent the day on the battlefield,” Vi says, her eyes scanning Kaleb in amusement.

  He grins. Dammit. Leave it to the person who hates people to be so much better with them.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been told it’s a good look for me,” he teases, and my blush ignites in full furor.

  “Really?” Vi replies, brows raised.

  I smack his arm. “I was half asleep.”

  “Just reporting the facts, Sorenson.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Whoa,” Vi scoffs. “I think I need to take back everything I said.”

  “Huh?” Kaleb glances between the two of us.

  “Never mind. Your ego needs no help from us,” I say. “We should probably let this patient get some rest. I’ll see you soon, Vi.”

  “You better. Hey!” She calls to Kaleb who has already moved toward the door. “I better see you soon too.”

  “You’re going to be sick of us,” he assures her with that smile that changes rules. She relaxes and closes her eyes.

  “Your visit go okay?” Kaleb asks when we’re out of auditory range.

  “Actually, it did. Vi even—“

  “What the fuck is this?”

  We freeze, and Kaleb turns first since I can’t move.

  “Just escorting a resident from the infirmary, sir,” he says, voice calm.

  “She doesn’t appear ill.”

  “Her roommate was involved in the incident in the yard.”

  “She’s out after curfew.”

  “Yes, it was the first time the patient was allowed to have visitors.”

  I finally manage a look and find a man I don’t recognize. His face burns with the fire in his voice.

  “She loses rations for a week.”

  “What? Sir—”

  “That’s the penalty for breaking curfew.”

  Now it’s Kaleb’s eyes that ignites as he casts me a warning look. As if I’d be able to move or speak anyway.

  “A word, Captain?” he says, and the man gives me a hard stare before allowing Kaleb to lead him down the hall. My blood is sludge in my veins, pumping memories of fear and hunger through my nauseous stomach. A week? Even at the hardest times I never had to go a week without food. Tears ache in my chest, and I force them back down. I will not cry.

  Facts.

  Their discussion is short, animated, with horns locking and macho posturing on both sides. Then, it stops. Both parties calm as Kaleb says something that removes the aggression from the other officer’s stance. The man still doesn’t seem pleased as he retreats out of view, but Kaleb looks relieved.

  He offers a brief smile as he returns to me and motions us forward.

  “Am I losing rations?”

  “No, of course not,” he says.

  “But how—”

  “I worked it out.”

  “Worked it out how?”

  I get the stop asking unless you want a lie look. I concentrate on the floor.

  “I’m scared, Kaleb. What if—”

  “You’re tired. Get some sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning. Everything is fine.” He reaches toward me but his fist clenches and drops to his side instead. “See you tomorrow.”

  I report to work half-excited and half-dreading a daylight reunion after our awkward night. My brain hasn’t processed the rare flirting followed by the intense encounter with Kaleb’s superior. My fate is in his hands, and I take some comfort in the fact that he’s been nothing but a saint so far.

  “Morning,” I say.

  “Morning.”

  His hair is still wet from bathing and he appears somewhat rested behind his desk. I try not to linger too long on thoughts of him in the shower.

  “You look better.”

  “Do I really, though?” he asks, serious before breaking into a devastating grin.

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “Eventually. Hey, come here. I want to show you something.”

  I approach his desk and lean over his shoulder to see the screen. Of course he smells as good as always. My brain rushes to water streaming over contoured muscles. Determined hands working soap over hot skin. Steam. So much steam. I blink and hold my breath to regain focus. It’s going to be a long day if my body betrays me every time I move within three feet of this man.

  “It’s an account of what happened yesterday,” I observe. “This is your report.” I’m praying he doesn’t notice my wheeze from the lack of oxygen.

  “Yes, exactly. I want to show you what I did so you can start to learn the process.”

  Right. Reports. My job. My supervisor. My captor.

  “This section here is all the background data. Time, date, names of those involved, etcetera.”

  “My name is listed too.”

  “Yes, we have to report the names of all involved.”

  He scrolls down to the next section. “This is the description of the incident. What happened, what was said, who did what. Basically, every detail I can remember.

  “This is the input from the medical staff. Official diagnoses, treatments, surgeries. And here,”—he highlights an exhausting list of numbers and codes— “the inventories. Every item damaged or consumed as a result of the incident. From your bloody jacket to the staples in Vi’s head.”

  I release the air from my chest. “It must have taken you all night to put this together.”

  “A lot of it. But I only have fourteen hours from the time of the event to file the report so here we are. You want to do the honors?”

  My senses ignite when he turns. The smell of aftershave, the heat of skin, perfect lips inches away. Just a small trip in the right direction and… My pulse pounds, blood rushing south as I force myself to swallow unthinkable scenarios. I’m way past showers now. I’m back to forbidden midnight dreams that make morning fantasies unbearable. I don’t know when this switch turned on, but I’m losing control of the constant flood of electricity.

  I clear my throat. “What do you mean, ‘do the honors’?”

  “Here.” He guides my hand toward the monitor. “Just click ‘Submit.’” His tone is casual, an easy task. As though I have command of my nerves and joints when his fingers collide with mine. One button. He doesn’t let go and lightning surges up my arm, through my body. I’m afraid I actually do need his help pushing that one button and pretend to focus on the 16-digit number that replaces the string of text.

  “What’s that?” My breathy question buys time for his thumb to graze over my knuckle.

  “Our confirmation code.” Our.

  The hint of a smile at my ear sends shivers down my back, straight to...

  “What do you do with that now?” This question I regret when he lets go and pulls out a small notebook. I replenish my lungs
as he scribbles the numbers below a long list of similar ones. I’ve watched him write for weeks, but this is the first time I notice he’s left-handed.

  “Technically, I shouldn’t have to do this. The code should be in my profile history for reference, but I learned the hard way that it doesn’t always happen.” He taps the screen. “Look at that. Two minutes to spare. Couldn’t have done it without you, Admin Assistant Sorenson.”

  “Yeah, you really needed me to push that button.” And I didn’t even do that.

  “You never know. My hands were getting sore from all that typing.” His eyes change as he leans back and studies me, gaze shifting to my fingers. They still burn from his touch. “There’s something else we need to talk about.”

  “Kaleb, come on...”

  He shakes his head. “No, hear me out. What happened in the yard— It’s bad enough that I’m in a position of authority, but you were also in a vulnerable place. What I almost did was inexcusable.”

  “What you almost did was exactly what I wanted you to do.” I lock onto his gaze. “You say it like I still don’t.”

  He breaks away, jaw clenched. I remember the pounding of his heart, the feel of hard muscle tensing against my body. The look in his eyes when they explored mine. I may have been vulnerable then, but I’m not now.

  Damn the rules.

  I’m not always brave, but my sudden hunger makes me fearless as I slide my fingers along his cheek, daring him to deny me again. His flinch gives way to an open stare that cuts through my restraint. A huge mistake as this small touch triggers a craving for the rest.

  “Sabrina Peters was crazy for letting you go,” I whisper. “I’m sure she regrets it every day.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “It’s not possible.”

  “Andie, stop.” He removes my hand, breaking our connection with confidence.

  It hurts, but I understand the stakes. I’ve seen what happens when he loses a toothbrush.

  “I know.” I retreat to a safe distance, even though my blood still longs to explore and own. My pulse feels audible. Or is that his? The politics get hazy when he avoids my scrutiny.

  “Are you allowed to have relationships?”

 

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