“I received a message one hour ago from the Mandate. Considering our new numbers, they are interested in an alliance with us.”
“You’re joking?” Gwenyth asked. “They must be absolutely desperate. How is their intelligence so good?”
“I leaked it,” Atlas said simply.
The resulting uproar was impressive. He pursed his lips and waited it out.
The Renegades still held all the cards overall. Not only did they have an alliance with the Critamal, and a third of the Amach, they had the high-powered laser cannons. Really, the Mandate and the Amach hardly registered on the playing board alone, but together. . . . The Mandate had access to the latest technology, and had their own forces as well.
“They’ll turn on us the moment they can,” Romy said.
The room quieted and several hummed their agreement.
Tina perked up. “We march the space soldiers in front of the city dwellers. We use the alliance to our later advantage. It is a chance to change their opinion of us.”
Cronus spoke. “I don’t like it; the Mandate are slimy bastards. They used me for years up there. Do you know how many thousands died because of them?”
“No one is denying what the Mandate is, or isn’t,” Atlas said. “The Amach has lived underground for one hundred years, Cronus. We will not forget what the Mandate is capable of anytime soon. For now, I believe this offers the best course of action.”
“What barriers will be in place to ensure they don’t take advantage?” Thrym asked.
Atlas tipped his head to him. “I have several ideas I wish to put to the commanders and captains. We will need a clear strategy before I open negotiations with them.”
Cronus grumbled. “I have no doubt in your abilities, commander-general. Neither does the Mandate. That, more than anything else, will keep them on the straight and narrow.”
“Are there any objections to pursuing alliance talks with the Mandate?” Atlas asked, scanning the room.
No one objected.
A corner of Atlas’s mouth lifted. Romy wasn’t fooled for a second to believe this was chance. Atlas had been waiting for an ace to fall into his lap before leaking word to the Mandate. He’d wanted this alliance the whole time.
“I wonder what Houston will think when he finds out?” Thrym whispered to her.
“I wonder what he’ll do,” Romy replied.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Charlee glided around the lab in a different kind of frenzy from how Houston used to, but in a frenzy nonetheless. “I’m not a genius and people are treating me like I am one,” she said.
“I believe in you,” Romy said, watching her own blood flowing through the tube into a small plastic bag.
“Please don’t believe in me. I want someone to underestimate me, so when I fail, I’ll know one person isn’t disappointed and we can get drunk together.”
“I’ve never been drunk,” Romy answered. “I was always too crazy for it.”
“Well, then. I’ll fail, we’ll lose the war, and then you can do it.”
“Sounds good to me.”
The two young women grinned at each other.
Charlee checked the full bag and clicked an empty one in its place. “Last one.”
“Tina’s demanded a girls’ night tonight. She’s sick of being single in a room of couples.”
“Hallelujah to that,” the doctor muttered. “It’s been dry as the Sahara in this place.”
“Thousands of men arrived three days ago.”
“They’re like puppies, though. They need more time here to not look so bewildered. And the mother hen thing is kind of off-putting.”
“Tell me about it.”
Charlee snorted. “But frickin’ hilarious, don’t get me wrong. I’m so glad I originally started that, even if I never meant it to catch on.” She hit the area above Romy’s arm to get the blood moving. “You feeling all right?”
“A little lightheaded,” Romy confessed.
The doctor had laid the bed flat and now lifted the bottom panel higher, so her patient’s legs were elevated. She removed the cannula, ignoring Romy’s muttered ‘I’m fine’.
“If I harm a hair on your head, Atlas will murder me. I’d rather stop here,” Char said.
Romy wrinkled her nose, replying, “Sorry about that. He’s—”
“Hot,” Char interrupted. “He’s hot, is what he is. Futuristic caveman hot. You should’ve seen him when you and Thrym were looking at each other in the meeting.”
“What?”
“Oh yeah, he totally noticed. I bet he’s trying to play it cool.”
Romy laughed. “Whatever. He’s always upfront about relationship stuff, asking whether I have feelings for Thrym and if I’m comfortable.” She frowned. “Though I do wish he’d do something more than kiss me. I’ve been waiting for him to make a move.”
“I bet he’d never expect you to be upfront about that stuff. It will totally give him a kick up the butt,” Char said, then continued at Romy’s confused look. “You complained he’s standoffish. I’m just giving you advice. You’re like a little sister who is the same age as me, yet because you’re not related to me, I feel no hesitation in leading you astray. Ask Atlas about the look he gave Thrym, and then ask him if he plans on taking your clothes off anytime soon.”
Romy laughed again. “You want me to turn the tables on him? Will that work?”
“I know men, Ro. I may be extremely picky, still in the rebound stage, and a little angry at those with male body parts, but I grew up with four brothers. Trust me.”
* * *
“I’m going to Tina’s for a girls-only night,” Romy said to Atlas.
“Dare I ask?” he replied, standing from his desk chair. She’d had to wait in queue to speak to him.
“Just snacks and cards, and Elara will eat the snacks, so just cards, really. What are you working on?”
“The Mandate wishes us to split any numbers we can spare between their largest cities.”
Her brows rose of their own accord. “We go into their cities?”
“Yes. You see my problem.”
“I think it sounds like a great way to split us up and murder us.”
“I agree. Cronus believes we should ask half of the Mandate members here to be our guests in exchange.”
She surveyed the flicker in his grey eyes. “You don’t?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t trust what they’d see, and I also don’t trust that the other Mandate members wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice their colleagues for the greater good.”
“That’s . . . barbaric.”
“That is their mentality.”
She placed her hands on his arms. “Their families? Children?”
Atlas grimaced. “I considered it, but it is against what we stand for, and it would change public perception. With families still seeking us out, it would be harmful, so says Tina. I’ll think on it,” he said.
Romy stepped into his arms. “You’ll do great.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He tilted her chin and kissed her deeply. Romy pressed herself against him, melding her lips to his. When her breath was gone, she pulled back with a gasp. “Maybe I came for that.”
He nuzzled the side of her neck and whispered in her ear, “Did you?”
“No, actually.” Big-girl pants. She looked him in the eye. “I saw you watching Thrym and me yesterday, and I wanted to assure you there’s nothing going on there. I love you, and Thrym has finally come around. In fact, I think we’re returning to what we used to be.”
Atlas swallowed. “You realise this is the third time you’ve assured me Thrym doesn’t have feelings for you.”
She kissed the side of his jaw. “I’ll keep doing it until you believe me.”
“I believe you. I’m afraid it’s the general male population I have a problem with.”
“That’s a big problem.”
He smiled against her forehead. “I’m working on it. You don’t hel
p matters by looking so beautiful.”
“It’s the coveralls, isn’t it? They do something for you.”
“They do. I don’t know what it is.”
“Is that why you haven’t tried to take them off me yet?” she asked.
Atlas choked on his breath, and she stood back as he coughed, trying to clear his airway.
She turned at a knock on the office door. “Cronus,” Romy said politely. “How are you?”
“Still alive,” he barked. “What’s wrong with him?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Atlas and widened her eyes dramatically. “You know, I’m not sure.” Moving past him before letting her grin loose, she strode out of the office.
* * *
“You did what?” Charlee asked. “Christ on a bike, I wish I’d seen it.”
“His reaction was funny at the time, but I’m a little worried about going back to the room tonight,” Romy admitted.
Tina groaned. “This conversation is gross.”
Elara entered the room and slammed the door behind her. She went directly for the bed and face-planted on the mattress. The others shared a look.
“How’re you doing, Ellie?” Romy ventured after a beat.
“He doesn’t deserve to know.” Her voice was muffled against the mattress. “He left, so he doesn’t get to know.”
“About the baby?” Romy had confessed about accidentally telling a bunch of people. Phobos and Thrym were still in the dark. “Are you sure? He is the father.”
“He doesn’t deserve to know until he shows he won’t just follow Deimos wherever he goes.”
Romy clamped her mouth shut upon hearing Deimos’s name.
“Well,” Charlee said slowly, “that’s your decision.” She shrugged helplessly at the other two.
“Are those salt crackers?” Elara asked, turning her head.
Carefully, Romy pushed a cracker toward her knotmate, jumping when Elara snaked out a hand to snatch it away.
“So, Deimos,” Tina said. Charlee whacked her. “What?” Tina asked defensively. “The elephant in the room is so big, there’s hardly any space for me.”
“What about him?” Romy said, eyes narrowed. She’d been avoiding Deimos for the last two days. It seemed to be working so far.
“Have you spoken to him?”
She glanced away. “Why would I do that? I said it then and I say it now, I’ll never forgive him for that night.”
Elara sat up. “I’m considering forgiving him.”
The words were like a slap across Romy’s face. Was she serious? Elara fidgeted under her knotmate’s heavy gaze. “I’ve talked to him.”
Blood poured into Romy’s cheeks. “When was this?”
“A few times.”
“You didn’t tell me?” Romy got to her feet.
“I didn’t realise I needed your permission.”
Her voice rose. “And I thought we were in this together. He did this to all of us, not just me.”
Elara glanced away, jaw clenching, “Yes, but he’s our knotmate, Ro. I can’t forget that. He’s part of me.”
“He threw that away, not us.”
Romy’s knotmate leapt to her feet. “What if someone judged you by one moment in your life? What if someone judged you by the day you killed an entire room of people and never gave you another chance? How would that feel?”
A buzzing filled her ears and Romy took a step back, staring at Elara.
Elara’s face crumbled. “Romy, I—”
Shaking, Romy strode to the door. She ignored the calling voices and left, walking as quickly as she could down the passageway.
In an ideal world, Atlas’s room would’ve been empty when she got back.
Atlas was in front of the mirror laying out his shaving razor and soap when she threw their door open, calmly closed it, and burst into tears. He dropped the towel and crossed to her in three long steps. “What’s happened?”
Her heart was in two pieces.
“Tell me.” He gripped her shoulders.
Why did he do it to her?
“Darling,” Atlas said in desperate concern, pulling her into his arms. “Please talk to me.”
Assembling herself would have been easier without his eyes looking into hers. Romy spoke between her sobs. “Do you think I’m overreacting about Deimos?”
“Ah,” he said.
Ah? What did that mean?
Atlas led her to the bed. He tugged her down, so they were laying facing each other. “Who said something? Wait, don’t tell me, it was Elara.”
Romy nodded and repeated the conversation. A flash of anger crossed his face when he heard Elara’s final comment. Considering he was the one she woke up next to, drenched in sweat remembering the screening of the moment she’d turned into Feral Romy and taken all those lives, Atlas would be well aware of what those words had done to her.
He rested his head against his arm—also a pillow for her head—and stared at the ceiling. “If anyone else had done what Deimos did, you would have written them off without a problem. Take Houston, for instance.”
“He wasn’t my knotmate.”
“Exactly. You didn’t love him, and so it was easy to sever the ties.”
Romy looked at him through wet lashes. “I don’t understand.”
“A part of you wants to forgive him, or you’d already have accepted there was no future relationship possible between you, as I have with Houston.”
She frowned. “I can’t forgive Deimos, though. Not after what he did. I don’t even know if I do feel anything else. All I can feel is . . . anger.”
“You wouldn’t feel anger if you didn’t care.”
Her throat tightened. “I don’t want to care about him anymore.”
“Come here.” Atlas shushed her and held her as she submitted to a fresh, quieter bout of crying. A while went by before he spoke again. Long enough for Romy to feel bad because he probably was putting off saving the world to hug her.
“Have you considered hearing him out?” he asked.
Talking to Deimos was all she’d thought about for the last two days. Mainly that there was no way she would, but that everyone expected her to had been constantly on her mind.
“Maybe you need to listen. And if the talk doesn’t go well, it might help you move on, but either way you’ll know where you stand afterward, instead of being in limbo like this.”
“I’m not sure how to talk to him.”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t think you’ll have much of a choice, in the end. Phobos has been giving you time to adjust, but it won’t last forever. He didn’t drag Deimos back here for nothing.”
Romy gave a wet chuckle. “No, I don’t suppose he did.” She paused. “I’m okay now; you can go back to your work. I didn’t know you’d be in here.” She trailed off.
“I’ve got nowhere to be,” he said, tucking her closer.
Spotting her reply in her eyes, he added in a firmer voice, “Nowhere, Rosemary.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tina lurched back, barely evading Romy’s fist. She twisted her body, dropping down to a squat, then popped up on the other side, jabbing Romy in the side. A blow like that might have ended the game once, but now it was second nature to keep her stomach tensed. She felt it, but it didn’t slow her.
Feinting, Romy swung her right foot out low. Tina jumped over it, but as soon as she landed, Romy swung out her other leg and swept Tina’s feet from under her.
“Dirty trick,” the redhead spat from the ground.
Romy grinned, but backed away out of reach. “I learned from the best.”
The woman paused, head tilted. “So you did. Good job. You’re almost fun to spar with now.”
“I hope to one day be worthy of you,” Romy answered in a dry voice. Turning, Romy began unwrapping her wrists. Her feet jerked to a halt at the crowd they’d gathered.
Of space soldiers. Whispering space soldiers.
“Mother hen.”
“Mother hen
.”
“Mother hen.”
“What the heck is wrong with them?” Romy whispered to Tina, who looked to be hanging onto her calm by a thread.
“I’m not sure, but do you realise there are over three thousand space soldiers going through puberty right now?”
Romy’s lips quivered. “You are so mean. Leave them alone. They don’t know any better.”
“It’s kind of endearing, though, right? They have no idea what to do. Like real chickens.”
“They’re not chickens,” Romy said, clenching her teeth. “They’ve been thrown into this situation and then used by Houston and now they’re floundering.”
“I guess they’re looking for a leader,” Tina said.
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you manipulating me?”
“Yes.”
“I just want them to stop calling me mother hen.”
Tina finished unwrapping her wrists and wound the sweaty material into a ball. “Tell them, then. Or at least speak to them.”
“And I’m sure that won’t pull me into your plans whatsoever,” Romy said, crossing her arms.
“The space soldiers need more leaders, and leaders they can trust. Deimos isn’t enough to provide support for over three thousand, and you have celebrity space soldier status, being The Space Soldier Who Resisted Insanity.”
Oh brother. But she knew Tina was right. Mentally pulling up her big-girl pants, Romy approached the closest group of soldiers. Their mismatched clothing had been exchanged for the Amach coveralls, and there wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen on any of them. Their hair was neat and professional, and their expressions neutral, just with rounded eyes.
They stood to attention as she neared. Why am I doing this? She could care for them from afar, like she’d been doing this entire time. “Hello,” she said awkwardly, feeling blood rush into her cheeks.
“Soldier Rosemary, ma’am!” they chanted.
The faint peals of Tina’s laughter reached her ears from across the gym. Romy glared after her but, turning to face the soldiers again, wondered if others in the Amach had been laughing at the space soldiers’ expense, like Tina. Not so long ago, Romy probably wore the exact same expression on her face. If not for her knot and new friends, she’d still look that way.
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