by T. A. White
Out of the confusion, Raider sauntered over to Kira, handing her a piece of armor. "Here."
She bobbled the unexpected package, before cradling it to her chest as she looked to Raider. What exactly was she supposed to do with this?
He read her unvoiced question and shrugged. "It fell off the unconscious guy when you dislocated his elbow. Thought you might want it as a memento."
How thoughtful—and complete bullshit.
That piece of armor was a slap in the face against their attackers. Every soldier knew you had to take care of your equipment because one day that equipment might save your life. To be relieved of a critical piece of armor in such a way implied the wearer was untrained, or worse—lazy and negligent.
Raider knew this.
He had always been a vindictive bastard. It seemed time hadn't changed him.
Kira tossed the piece at the woman. "Here. This is your friend's."
The woman caught it, her expression caught between humiliated and furious.
At Graydon's side, Wren observed the chaos. His thoughtful gaze landed on Blue and the unexpected weapon she held in her hands. One part looked like a slingshot, the other was a two-inch narrow energy beam like the ones Kira had seen the Tuann use with a weapon that looked like a bow, the beam acting as the arrow.
"Lady Blue, I see you've made use of your off-time to make a few modifications to a standard Tuann zuipi," he commented.
Blue blushed, the energy beam dissolving as she lowered the slingshot, putting it behind her back as if to hide it. Raider and Kira fixed her with similar expressions of disbelief.
Blue shrugged at them. "What? I got bored."
Graydon's lips twitched before smoothing out. "Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?"
"Nothing that concerns the Emperor's Face," a strong voice said out of the crowd.
Kira caught sight of Finn next to the strange oshota, his guard up and looking vaguely homicidal. It looked like the initiates weren't the only ones who had come to blows.
Graydon raised an eyebrow, his attention settling on Dethos’s oshota. "Nial, why am I not surprised to find you in the midst of this?"
Nial ignored the statement, his expression stony. "Even you can't interfere in a challenge."
Graydon looked around, noting the way Dethos outnumbered them and the interested expressions of those surrounding them. "Is that what this is?"
Nial's posture was ramrod straight. If Graydon's question intimidated him, you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he held himself.
Graydon stepped forward, managing to seem threatening from that one motion. The skin around Nial's eyes tightened saying he wasn't entirely obtuse, reading the danger he was in.
"Because the emperor himself decreed the Lady Kira couldn't be challenged by those outside her House," Graydon said through bared teeth, his smile that of a dragon who'd cornered its prey.
"He said she couldn't be challenged; nothing about her doing the challenging," one of the initiates chimed in.
The oshota's jaw flexed, even as he held his silence.
Graydon fixed a dangerous look on the initiate. "Why am I not surprised to find House Dethos obeying the letter of the emperor's decree rather than its intent?"
Silence answered him.
A heavy sigh gusted from Graydon as he focused his piercing gaze on Kira. "And did you challenge them?"
Kira started to speak only to find Talon already talking. "Dethos struck first. Even by the loosest of definitions, the part of challenger would be considered theirs." His gaze flicked to the oshota. "If you wanted to instigate a challenge, you probably shouldn't have picked a place heavily frequented by Roake."
The oshota's jaw worked as he ground his teeth.
"It is possible my initiates got a little overzealous greeting the lost daughter of House Roake." The words seemed ripped out of him.
Graydon arched an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'm sure." He ran a gaze over the rest. "It seems this scheme backfired on them. I have no doubt half the city will learn your initiates got their asses handed to them by a few humans and a woman you have a distressing tendency to refer to as insane."
Nial didn't respond to the taunt, his movements jerky as he headed for the door, barking over his shoulder, "Let's go."
Slowly the rest of House Dethos filed after him as they shot fulminating glares at the rest of them.
Kira stopped next to Graydon. "I didn't know you were itching for another round in our bout."
His smile came, slow and wicked, tugging at Kira's insides. "Anytime, anywhere, coli. It was the highlight of my week."
His words brushed along Kira's senses, sparking a warmth inside. Call her strange, but fighting Graydon was like having all her senses ramped up a thousand-fold. It was exhilarating and thrilling because she never knew if she'd win—not that she planned to let him know that.
Kira made her way to the table where Wren stood, gazing at the half-destroyed glasses. Surprisingly, a few still stood.
"I expected better of you all," Wren said as she approached.
Raider collapsed into his seat, snagging a shot and drinking it down.
"Don't know why," Raider said, pointing the hand that held the glass at Wren. "I think we cleaned up pretty well."
Especially since one of them appeared to have had more alcohol than they should have, Kira thought with a spurt of amusement.
She was surprised at the feeling of nostalgia and regret that the night was over.
How many bars had she and the Curs closed out? How many times had one of them gotten into a fight only to have the rest step up to protect their back? A unit even when they weren't on the battlefield.
"This shows a critical lack of judgment," Wren continued as if Raider wasn't even speaking. His attention was locked on Kira, letting her know who was the real recipient of this lecture. "You're unfamiliar with this world and its customs. Drinking until you're intoxicated puts you at a disadvantage."
Graydon picked up the glass in front of her seat, taking a sip and grimacing. "Not as much as you might think."
He handed the glass to Wren, who sniffed it. His forehead wrinkled, and he took a small sip. "What is this?"
Graydon's eyes seemed to glitter with amusement. "You weren't really drinking, were you? At least not keeva."
Raider straightened out of his slouch, his dismayed gaze shooting to Kira's. "No."
Kira winced.
"You wouldn't mess with tradition," he said in a hushed whisper.
"Technically, tequila is tradition," she pointed out.
He pounded on the table. "Getting drunk is the tradition. That's why I got the keeva."
"If it's any consolation, I switched our drinks on the third shot so neither one of us would get too drunk," she told him.
He stared blearily up at her as his head started shaking and then kept shaking. "I thought we were sharing a moment." He flopped back in his chair. "I feel so used.”
Consternation filled Kira. "At least I thought I switched them."
"You did," Finn assured as he joined them. "Keeva can be intoxicating for humans as well."
"Oh boy," Kira said, staring at Raider with new eyes. She'd thought he was pretending to be worse off than he was. Turns out she was wrong.
She scrubbed a hand over her face. "He is going to be so mad later."
Blue appeared at her side. "Yup. As soon as his hangover subsides, he's going to be gunning for you, Nixxy."
Great, just what Kira needed, a vengeful Raider.
She clapped her hands. "All right, let's get you out of here. I think we've done enough toasting for one night."
Raider shrugged out of Blue's grip, grabbing one of the only upright glasses and holding it up. "Not yet. There's one more toast to be done."
Kira hesitated. She had an idea of who she meant, and it was the last person she wanted to toast. "Maybe some other time. I think we've both had enough."
"No," Raider insisted. He swayed, nearly toppling
over before righting himself again. "No, you toast her death. You've never done that."
Even as drunk as he was, Kira could see the resolve in his face. She wasn't going to get out of this. Not this time.
"I don't want to do this," she warned.
He grabbed one of the intact glasses that had fallen onto its side, righting it before pouring keeva into it. Finished, he shoved it into her hand.
"Prove to me she's dead." He lifted his glass in front of her.
This entire night had been leading up to this. All the drinks, the trips down memory lane, the names of their dead, all so he could maneuver her into this moment.
Her gaze met his, anger licking her insides, her control slipping.
He knew what this would cost her and didn't care as long as he got his result.
Her chin lifted, and she swiped the glass from the table, downing the contents in a single gulp.
Fuck him.
She slammed the glass down. "The Elise you knew is gone. The next time you want to toast our fallen, maybe don't do it as a power play."
The fierce light in his eyes faded, the hope she had failed to see snuffed out as loss and grief crept into his expression. Kira's stomach sank, regret curdling her insides. The impulse to offer comfort hovered on her tongue, swallowed before it could leave.
He wouldn't want her platitudes, and offering them would likely undo the necessary blow she'd struck him. The conclusion he'd drawn was dangerous and placed many lives in jeopardy. He needed to believe Elise was dead, even if it killed her to put that look in his eyes.
The glass slipped out of his fingers, crashing to the table and bouncing off with an air of finality. Kira barely held in her flinch as he shuffled past, the forceful spark of personality he threw at the world subdued.
Blue stopped in front of Kira. "That wasn't nice."
"What do you want from me, Blue? He asked, and I delivered." Kira felt exhausted.
Emotion. It would suck the energy out of her every time.
"Right," Blue said, not hiding her skepticism as she shoved past Kira. "You were always a terrible friend when it counted."
She left Kira standing there, staring out the window at the ocean. Self-hatred and the taste of bitter regret lingered on Kira's tongue. She couldn't even argue with Blue's statement. The truth hurt, even if it was unavoidable.
She was tired of the deceptions and the lies. The expectations.
So tired.
As much as the night had felt like coming home to family after a long time away, she needed to remember she had no family anymore. Blue and Raider were pieces of her past. A few drinks and the sharing of memories weren't going to change that.
Light reflected off a mirror in a pattern Kira recognized. She squinted at the tower window in the distance, realization making her curse silently.
Odin. Always pushing the boundaries as usual.
"We'll escort the two of them home," Rheya said hesitantly when Kira continued staring out the window. She and Devon filed in the Curs wake, shooting glances at Kira as they did so.
Graydon's heavy gaze lingered on Kira as he watched the ocean with her.
Finally, he stirred. "Let's go."
"Not really in the mood, Graydon," Kira warned.
He arched an eyebrow at her. "You've already started one fight and alienated your closest friends. Do you want to go for a third fight tonight?"
Her glare was hard, which made his smile widened as he moved away.
The urge to do exactly that tugged at her, even as she ignored it. Fighting would make her feel better in the short term, but later, when morning came, she would regret her lack of control.
No need to make things worse than they already were.
Wearily she trudged after Graydon, pausing beside Talon as she took in the destruction she and the rest had caused.
"I'd offer to pay for the damages, but I'm afraid I don't know how the Tuann monetary system works," Kira said. That regret burrowed deeper. Talon didn't deserve this. "Unless you accept human credits?"
"They're not worth much here."
She grimaced. She had a feeling.
"Don't worry. Seeing you three knock Dethos down a couple of slots was worth it." He clapped her on the shoulder. "Besides, House Roake will pay for this."
Even worse. Kira's debts kept rising.
Talon gestured at Finn with his chin. "Take care of my friend."
Kira regarded Finn for a long moment. "Do you know the story of the Phoenix?"
Talon studied her. "It's a human myth, right?"
She nodded. "I got the name because of my habit of rising from my own ashes." She started walking away. "They never bothered to warn me that those who stood next to the Phoenix tend to get burned in the same fire."
EIGHTEEN
Kira found Graydon staring in the direction the light signal had come from. A small gesture from him sent Amila loping toward the tower with an easy gait.
Kira mentally cursed Odin's propensity for stirring up trouble. The hacker had better have gotten out. If she got caught, Kira planned to let Jin make good on some of the threats he'd made over the years.
For now, there was nothing Kira could do. Any action she took to prevent or delay Amila would only serve to further arouse Graydon's suspicions.
Graydon's hands were clasped behind him as his eyes met hers.
She clamped her mouth shut; her expression blank.
Graydon might look like a handsome brute, but his attractive façade hid a devious mind.
She recognized her match in him. He was a survivor, like her. Someone willing to put in the hellish amount of work needed to protect what was his.
He was every bit as deadly as she was. Maybe even more so, which was why if they ever ended up enemies, she'd come for him from the shadows and only when victory was assured. He wasn't the type you fought fairly. Not if you planned on winning.
"Come," Graydon said again before walking away.
"I'm not a dog," Kira muttered. To Solal, who stood partially hidden in the shadows, she asked, "Any idea what he wants?"
"Only one way to find out," he returned.
Kira exhaled. She'd had a feeling he was going to say that.
Kira bowed to the inevitable. If they didn't do this now, Graydon was likely to force the issue at a time that was inconvenient for her.
Reluctantly, Kira followed him through the city, over cobblestone streets and by cute houses. The architecture here showed a marked difference than that of the fortress's. The two couldn't have been more different if they'd tried. The only similarity was the fact both appeared built from stone.
The city reminded Kira of the ones in old Europe. Ageless, quaint history mashed together with modern convenience. Their buildings were decorated with natural hues, allowing them to blend in with the nature all around them even as the fortress was a hulking form in the distance.
"I'm surprised Finn took you to Talon," Graydon finally said, breaking the silence.
"Why?"
Graydon looked at the ink-dark sky above. "Talon and Finn used to be pod mates. They served the same sword."
But no longer. It was on the tip of Kira's tongue to ask why.
"If he took you there, it means he trusts and admires you," Graydon said.
Kira snorted, unable to help her disbelief. That was stretching it.
Graydon's lips twitched. "What do you see when you look at this place?"
"Blind corners. Easily taken streets. An enemy would find it easy to march through this city," Kira responded immediately. On the other hand, the locals would be able to slip through any net the enemy sought to secure, the same disadvantage working against the enemy as well.
"Most would have commented on its beauty," Graydon pointed out. "However, you've only focused on the flaws in its defenses."
There was a reason for that. When your safety depended on the defensibility of your surroundings, it taught you to look at everything through a certain lens. It was a difficult habi
t to change.
"Are you implying I'm broken?" Kira asked.
Graydon chuckled. "Never. You're invested in protecting yourself and others. There's no shame in that."
That seemed like a nice way of saying something inside of Kira was broken.
"Do you know what separates an oshota from a sword?" Graydon asked.
"No."
And not from lack of trying.
As far as she'd been able to piece together, the person they called sword received much the same type of training. It didn't seem to be determined by birth either. Graydon was evidence of that.
"Perception," Graydon supplied.
She frowned at him, not understanding.
His chin dipped. "That's all it is. Someone perceives your strength and asks to lend theirs to yours. Sometimes that strength is physical as it is in my case; other times, it’s because they recognize something deeper. A strength of soul or nobility of spirit. No amount of force or scheming can elevate you to that position. It is something that needs to be earned through your actions."
Kira's gaze fell on Finn as a dismayed look settled on her face.
"You don't seem pleased with this knowledge," Graydon said.
"I never want to be in charge of anyone else's life besides my own, again." Her words revealed much more than she intended, but she couldn't take them back now.
The truth of them reverberated in the air between them.
"You inspire loyalty in those around you," Graydon said as they approached the edge of the city before it dropped to the sea. A waist-high wall ran along the cliff, and Graydon leaned muscular forearms against the stone. "I doubt your fallen would appreciate you using their deaths as a reason to hide."
Kira couldn’t help her weary huff. "You're right about that—but then the dead don't get to choose."
That blessing and curse lay solely with the living.
A pair of youths, not much older than Ziva, frolicked along the wall's edge, catching Kira's attention. She watched the excitement and innocent joy on their faces as they played a game that looked like an energetic version of tag.
They held an innocence that was missing from her young friend. The horrors of life had touched Ziva and Joule, marking them indelibly and forever changing them. They'd tasted the dark parts it had to offer; they'd known loss, and there was no way to wipe away its sting again.