Page 49

Tomoe

F reedom or death .

The freedom to roam throughout all the territories if they let Salem take over. If they helped us win this war. No more division, no more limitations. United.

Those were the conditions I’d stated in my note to Laurel—the one Amaia asked me to send in her stead months ago in Duluth. It had been a shot in the dark. An empty pretty promise that told them exactly what they wanted to hear. I hadn’t seen it in any vision—until recently. Until Amaia had settled on one of many damning decisions. Somehow that one note had sparked a damn rebellion. Or fueled one. Chicken or egg type of situation, I supposed.

I sat near the fire, cross-legged on a worn blanket, Wrath resting at my side. Finley Thomas’s voice grated against the night air. She never stopped talking. Ever.

“You’re going to drive someone to murder,” I muttered. “Do you ever shut up?”

She flashed me a smile that let me know I’d handed her an invitation to argue. “Do you ever have anything positive to say?”

“No.”

“Well, there you go,” she said smug as ever, leaning back with satisfaction in her unsettling eyes.

Amaia’s head was mine as soon as this stupid game was over. Training exercise . What a joke. More like glorified capture the flag. I said nothing, keeping my gaze on the flames. There were eight of us, risking our sanity over a strip of fabric, pretending it was worth something.

Finley wasn’t even General of St. Cloud. Yet somehow, someway, here she was—crouched next to me in the dirt, running her mouth. She’d insisted on being on the battlefield. It didn’t get any creepier than wanting to see your own inventions take lives firsthand. Her honorary leadership patch meant nothing in the long run, she still ended up here, doing the grunt work with the rest of us.

Not that I had any room to talk. I wasn’t exactly a soldier either. My role as the unit’s Seer meant I was supposed to help anticipate what could happen—to help us outthink the enemy. Not that it always worked. And we had to be careful about when and where to use it without a guarantee of having enough time to recharge in case of an attack. Add in the fact that seeing the possibilities didn’t mean I could stop them from happening. Amaia Bennett case and point.

The crackling flames almost drowned out Finley’s voice, which had been a constant hum of chatter since we’d been assigned this post. She couldn’t seem to sit still or stay quiet for more than five minutes. I let her noise wash over me, her bickering with the others filling the gaps in the silence.

And then, she shattered the fragile peace.

“I love a good campfire story. Moe Moe, tell us the story on how the son of the man we’re out to kill, left you high and dry,” Finley said, her head tilting, smirk growing in the low glow of the fire.

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You heard me.” Her smirk deepened.

I glanced at her, then at Wrath, fingers twitching before the flag behind us centered me on the mission I was here for. “I wouldn’t be so smug. Mine left for what he believed in, yours left for another woman.”

The surrounding soldiers snickered. Finley’s head snapped around, her glare silencing them instantly. “Got something to say?” she snapped.

They quickly busied themselves, rotating positions as we’d previously discussed, throwing off the other Seers . Finley’s jaw tightened as she turned back toward me, her irritation simmering beneath the surface.

Finley let out an exaggerated gasp, one hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “Oof. I’m offended.”

“You should be. He upgraded.”

I had little energy to deal with her juvenile antics. It was hard to imagine Alexiares put up with her bullshit for as long as he did.

Her lips twitched in an attempt to fight back a laugh. “Hmm. I feel like I should be upset by that. I mean, you obviously want me to be. Yet oddly—and unsurprisingly—I couldn’t care less. Oh well.”

“You can pretend all you want.” I rolled my eyes and moved to the other side of the fire, dragging Wrath’s pointed edge through the dirt.

“Pretend?” She was swift in her movements. Catlike as she leaned in my ear and I swatted her away, not missing the wild flicker of crazy bitch in her expression.

“It’s an act,” I pushed. “Be the strongest or get left behind kind of thing. I get it. Been there.”

Her expression hardened—the answer in the absence of denial. “I care about the people of St. Cloud,” she said, her voice quieter, to me only, no longer putting on a show for those around us.

“Fooled me,” I muttered.

Finley turned away, her stark blonde hair nearly hiding the clenching of her jaw. A hopeful moment of thinking I’d struck a nerve passed.

“Alexi can spin it however he wants.” Her tone was cold now, threatening. “I’m not much different from that bitch?—”

“Watch it,” I snapped.

“Than Amaia,” she corrected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I put my people first. Always. Life isn’t the same up there. I wouldn’t expect you to get it with your cozy rooms and your little cafés.”

My patience with her was thinning, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Getting too comfortable will always be a bad thing,” Finley said, meeting my gaze with a fierceness that matched the flames glowing behind her. “The sooner you people understand that, the better.”

I ignored her, watching the others around us watch us as if we were entertainment.

“Brother’s pretty cute though. Oh, come on, don’t pretend you didn’t notice. Far better looking than the other.” Finley shoved a finger down her throat and gagged. “Not a fan of red-heads.”

“I have an idea. How about you tell us the story on what could make a daughter kill her father?”

“Subtle.” Air passed through her teeth in a huffed scoff. She tossed her chin my direction. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

I kept my tone even, already bored with the conversation. “That would be a waste of energy on someone who would happily brag, if only asked.”

My eyes narrowed. What an odd gap in greenery , I noted as I stared into the distance. There was a small, face-sized hole about twenty feet out. I shook my head. Nope , I was focusing on channeling any direct attacks to our front door. If there was someone out there waiting for the right moment to capture our flag, I would be the first to know.

“I would never brag about killing someone I love.” Finley’s voice fell to a hush, and I turned to face her.

She seemed … sad? Her shoulders slumped as she brushed her fingers through the dirt, eyes set on the ground.

“You?” I laughed, refusing to waste guilt for the woman who’d spent days torturing, humiliating us and treating us no better than neglected animals not long ago. “Love? Please, spare me.”

“I loved my father.” Her words were clipped—definite.

“I’m sure he’d appreciate the words more if he were alive.”

I hated to admit it, but seeing her show even a glimpse of anything other than smug indifference made me extremely uncomfortable.

“I had no choice.”

“There is always a choice.”

If I had the choice, my parents would be alive, my sisters wouldn’t have faced a brutal death. In no scenario could I fathom how much hate one had to hold in their heart, to kill their flesh and blood. Then again, maybe I did. Maybe it was why I’d refused to let Reina fall victim to her brother’s sword. Why I’d insisted on being the one to end him myself—because as much hatred that rested within Seth’s heart, it would never be enough to protect him from himself once he’d realized what he’d done. I couldn’t let myself live with the guilt of what killing Reina would have done to his soul. So I’d offered my own up instead.

“It’s what he wanted,” Finley said with a sense of certainty, like she had no doubt. “That is what my daddy expected of me.”

“Some father,” I grumbled. That explained why she acted … like that .

“Don’t make me kill you.” She pulled her blade and waved it in my face. I refused to acknowledge the threat. Her eyes flickered shut in quick succession as she blinked back … tears? “He had cancer. Before all of this started, he’d gone into remission—that obviously didn’t last. Without any doctors worth a damn nearby, his pain became unbearable. It was his worst fear to live the way his life was heading. So I took him out before he had the chance to wonder what his final days would look like.”

We sat there in elongated silence. There was nothing left to say. I almost felt bad for taunting it out of her—almost. But I was no saint and Finley was one hell of a sinner. Pity was all I could offer her, and because I knew she wouldn’t want it, I granted her the kindness of not showing her any at all.

“You would have made a great therapist.” Finley cleared her throat, shifting her weight and tossing the awkwardness away. “Can I schedule another appointment? Wednesday at two.”

“Shut up,” I spat, over the dramatics.

Slap my ass and call me a whore, she actually listened. But the silence that followed was anything but peaceful. I stared into the fire again, waving my hands in the warmth of its flames. Usually, a fire would be bad. A dead giveaway. For all purposes but this drill—because this drill was to test our level of preparedness when things don’t go as planned. Sometimes a fire is the only thing that could save your life, save the soldiers around you. How you handled that with the threat of an enemy striking at any moment determined whether you lived or died in the end.

The flickering glow revealed the faces of the soldiers nearby. A few exchanged quiet glances, but no one dared to speak. Finley’s presence was too volatile. She was an anomaly. The sharp edges of her personality hid cracks she refused to let anyone see. Finley wanted to be right at all times. Needed to be. Shit, maybe it was the only way she knew how to keep going. To see another day.

A whistle pierced the night. We all snapped to attention as a runner approached. He was breathless and red-faced, apparently out of shape despite the training we’d been forced to do. “Phase two,” he panted, words tumbling out in uneven gasps. “Leadership reassignment … squad leaders down … new chain of command.”

“Finally,” Finley muttered. She shot to her feet, brushing the dirt from her uniform.

I rose slowly, my gaze shifting from the runner to the fire, which flared unnaturally for a moment, its flames licking higher into the air. A trick of the light, maybe. Or maybe not. I caught Finley’s eye.

“Down, now.” I ducked, hoping she had the sense to do the same.

A ball of fire shot over our bodies, steamrolling right where we had stood. Lethal force . She barked orders to the nearby squad then crawled over to my position. “Shit. I think some son of a bitch tried to kill me.”

“Go away,” I pushed away from her, the obvious target and slid through the dirt toward Wrath.

“Oh, come on, this obviously isn’t a drill anymore.”

“Yeah, to you. ” I barked out a laugh. “I bet the rest of us are fine.”

“Okay, well, they’re still going for the flag and the others went on outer defense which leaves the two of us …”

I groaned, tossing my braid back over my shoulder and wiping the sweat off my nose with my shoulder. “Dammit.”

The ground erupted directly behind us, a plume of dirt and smoke filling the air. I scrambled forward, fingers brushing the hilt of Wrath. She felt good in my grip, steady. Adrenaline pounded in my ears as I scanned the tree line.

“Would it piss you off if I said I wish I wasn’t in charge now?” Finley snapped, her eyes darting toward the flag. “Two of us against what? An entire squad? An assassin?”

“There is no two of us , Finley. Only me and this flag.”

“Fine.” Her jaw clenched as she pulled free some cylindrical device and twisted it. “Let’s make this work.”

She rounded to take up the rear as her little creation hummed to life. Putting her and Tomás in the same room was either brilliant or a disaster waiting to happen. Only time and the victims they stacked up would tell. The weapon hummed to life, cracking with energy. She tossed it out in front of us, then shifted to a defensive stance, clasping my hand with a squeeze. “Nonlethal. Come on, Moe Moe.”

“I know. Get off me,” I bit out and snatched my fingers out of her grasp. Wrath’s blade glinted in the low light.

A figure burst from the tree line at full speed, their movements a blur and now lost in the blue hue of whatever emerged from Finley’s toy. My instincts screamed, and I barely managed to intercept a blade aimed straight at Finley. Wrath’s steel clanged against their weapon—a short curved knife.

“Watch it! It’s not just Finley back here,” I shouted as the impact sent a jolt through my body.

“Okay, we have about thirty seconds before they realize the mirage of us walking away is literal smoke blowing up their asses,” Finley said, pointing to the smoke that engulfed us now. “Get ready.”

“Want to tell me why they’re trying to kill you?” I asked impatiently.

“Babe, there’s about a million reasons someone would want me dead and standing around listing them off won’t make a difference.”

Electricity crackled and Finley leaped back. The smoke cleared and our initial attacker was nowhere in sight. Nope. His squad was here and unfortunately for me, their focus was on more than Finley.

“Here for the orgy?” she taunted, sliding rings on and sliding her fingers through the air in a calculated pattern. A shield went up, blocking both of us behind it.

One soldier carried a chain, glowing red-hot at the end, another held a compact launcher slung over their shoulder. Nonlethal but incredibly painful were the options now presented to us. The soldier who’d had it out for Finley was gone, disappeared with the approach of the others.

The one with the chain came for me. Her movements were fluid and calculated. I deflected the first strike. Wrath sliced through the air with precision. The chain whipped back and looped for my legs. I jumped over them, spinning to avoid the glowing links, and brought the flat of my blade down on her wrist.

She hissed in pain, but they didn’t drop the weapon. Apparently, she was incredibly motivated to capture this damn flag. She pulled back, the chain snapping toward me once more.

“Finley!” I called, my breath coming hard and fast. It was becoming harder to not kill her. I was accustomed to swinging and being done with it. This back and forth was simply frustrating, especially now that I knew I couldn’t trust their motives. Even if she hadn’t been the one to target Finley, she’d sat back and watched while her squad-mate took their shot.

“Catch!” Finley tossed a staff through the air. I dropped low, letting the chain whip past my face, sheathed Wrath and in one movement caught the weapon. It was heavy in my hands, unnatural. But it would do.

Finley was already in motion. She possessed an artillery of weapons I didn’t recognize along her body. I caught a glimpse of one as it lit up the dark like fireflies on steroids. It defied the laws of physics. Bolts of blue energy whirled from her fists with every swing, forcing an attacker to retreat. Her movements were a kind of scrappy elegance. She chose to fight dirty, that was no surprise, but I couldn’t deny her efficiency.

“Come back!” she barked, calling after them. “I wasn’t done having fun.”

“Sociopath,” I muttered, rising to meet the Chain-wielder’s next attack. My staff cut through the air, intercepting the glowing links with a satisfying clang. With a twist of my wrist, I hooked the chain and yanked, pulling her off balance.

Her momentum carried her forward. I swung the borrowed staff down with ease. It cracked something on her side. Sounds like I hit something important. She crumpled with a grunt, but before I could pin her down, the air shifted.

The ground beneath us trembled, and a wave of heat rolled through the camp. A new wave of enemy soldiers thrust their palms forward. Thick walls of flame erupted between us, forcing Finley and me to backpedal.

“Is now a good time to tell you there’s someone behind you?” Finley shouted. “Or should I wait till the first swing since this isn’t a team effort?”

I spun in time to block another strike from the Chain-wielder, who’d recovered far too quickly for my preference. Her eyes glinted with determination as she pressed the attack. The staff sang in my hands—but it was getting harder to keep up.

Finley faced the fire-wielders head-on. Two on one, just how she liked it. Her rings hummed, discharging a concentrated burst of energy that collided with the flames. The impact sent sparks flying, and the battlefield sparkled in a fireworks display.

“Base camp’s compromised!” someone shouted from the perimeter.

That was fast . Finley’s respect didn’t extend far when shit hit the fan, they’d already decided to replace her in command. With her assumed fallen, they had no choice. That was the entire point of the drill. To think on our feet when things didn’t go according to plan, to step up when needed to ensure the success of the mission. Guess I couldn’t be too smug about it. Though, it was sickly sweet knowing she’d failed.

“Secure the flag!” I shouted to Finley, stepping between her and the Chain-wielder. “I’ll hold them here!”

Another surge of heat roared toward us. This time I didn’t have time to find cover. Instinct took over, and I dropped the staff and unsheathed Wrath, rearing her forward, the steel catching the fire midair. They twisted, spiraling around the blade, their movements echoing the slithering of a serpent.

The Chain-wielder hesitated for the first time as she too recovered, not expecting the blast of power. Her confidence cracked.

“I’ve about had it with the chain shit,” I growled, stepping toward her.

Finley didn’t waste the opening. She darted past me, a ring of blades cracked through the air as she drove it into the fire-wielder’s chest. A rush of air sent them sprawling at the impact. And by design their flames snuffed out like a dying ember.

I swept the chain-wielders legs out from under her, pressing the tip of Wrath against her chest.

“Yield,” I ordered.

She glared at me but didn’t move.

A cheer rose from the edges of the camp. Our team had managed to push back the attackers. The triumphant shouts of soldiers reclaiming the perimeter was obnoxiously pleasing to my ears.

“Flag’s still up,” I said, my voice tight as I released the Chain-wielder. She pushed herself up and took off after her squad-mates that were now weaponless and racing back to their own camp for safety.

“No kidding,” Finley snapped, brushing herself off and pushing up from the base of the flag. Her hair was a tangled mess, and soot streaked her face, but she tossed her choppy hair with the grace of a runway model.

“This wasn’t random,” I said, glancing at Finley. “They were targeting you.”

She nodded grimly. “Yeah, just another day in The Expanse.”

A knot of discomfort twisted inside me, refusing to loosen. Whoever had blocked my Sight was still out there, powerful and dangerous. And if they’d help hide an attempt on Finley, what else were they capable of?