Page 188 of Cold-Blooded Creatures

We were both sick of this life, falling apart, torn at the seams. Changed by the cruelty and brutality of our world.

Over and over again, we spun in tandem. We threw punches, weaved our kicks into intricate patterns, and wielded our knives with ease as the sun rose higher behind the darkening clouds.Our backs grew slick with sweat, our jackets discarded, the freezing wind a welcome distraction from the night’s events.

“You can come out, you know.” Zion’s voice pierced the swoosh of our motions. The forest ruffled, carrying his invitation far.

His footsteps silent, nature bending to his will and masking his being, Gedeon stalked over to us, halting at our ring of dirt where we kept moving through the stances.

A demarcation line between the life Gedeon protected and death Zion and I hungered to deliver.

“You’re not going to say anything?” I twirled around, my movements precise and smooth as I cut through the air.

“How did you get past the guards?” Gedeon asked.

There was no way the group he’d set up to patrol the edges of our compound, the fields, and the surrounding forests was going to keep me in. They could track every shift of weather to deliver it to him on a silver platter to examine, but I was not something you could contain.

Lifting my right arm in an uppercut punch, I pulled back my sweater’s sleeve, exposing the dark swirls of vines trapping a cold weapon inked onto me. “I have the tattoo. They let me go wherever I want. Half of them are too afraid to say no to me.”

“You are a murderous thing,” Zion said, and if the cold wasn’t biting my cheeks, the reverence in his tone would.

“And you’re my pretty boy.”

He rested a hand on his chest.

He truly was my pretty boy. The prettiest.

Gedeon rubbed at his face. “Come back. Sleep deprivation will do you no good.”

Together with Zion, we repeated the motions of battle. Sleep deprivation or not, it didn’t change the facts. War was coming. Uncountable deaths, too.

Gedeon crossed the border of the last intact, unviolated grass and stopped inches short of our blades’ reach.

“Careful,” Zion warned as his knife slashed through the chill clinging to us and he ducked down, evading an invisible offense from the enemy.

“We need to go to war.” My boot slipped, but I caught myself, leaping back into the position without wiping the sweat trickling into my eyes. Discomfort wasn’t something I could afford to succumb to. “Our time is running out.”

Gedeon looked out over the trees, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the ends. But the strip of golden sunshine falling from the parting clouds didn’t relax his locked jaw, didn’t erase the bruise rising to the surface under his swollen eye. “We cannot. It would bring us certain doom. Us. Not them.Us. It would becarnage.”

“You cannot coerce me into giving up.” The words flew out of my mouth as if rehearsed, and I practically flinched from the force of them.

Zion paused for the split second it took to bring his scarred forearm to Gedeon’s attention. “You know history tends to repeat itself.” He joined me in the next position. “I talked to the families. They’re not happy with doing nothing, as you can guess. Remember the brothers of one of the leaders from that mob that threatened us months ago? The two you told me to play with in our underground? They’re back at it. Ezra informed me of spreading rumors that they’re rallying others to separate from you, to make a move against the city, stating you won’t do anything because you’re afraid. It’s going to be fucking a mess. Our own people are splitting into factions. You want to cause a civil war in Ilasall, but we’ll soon have one at our heels.”

“Have you ever thought why no one has challenged me up until now?” Gedeon rolled his shoulders and grimaced, spending extra time rotating the right one. “Because I know when tocontrol and when to release the leash. When and how to punish offenders. How to inspire with a simple speech. For years, I have led us into growth, and I will not throw it all away for the thirst of justice. It’s not something we can indulge in. I will not take useless risks. And I will not let vengeance consume you. I will not dig out your graves and carve out your names in the tombstones.”

In rhythm to the rustling of bare branches as they bent to the will of air currents, Zion swayed beside me, oblivious to the picture of doom Gedeon had painted. We repeated the sequence of steps over and over again while Gedeon waited for our reaction. But it never came. Because neither I nor Zion could go on without taking risks anymore.

So Gedeon went on. “There is a reason why we got to where we are. We sacrificed much, and for one goal—to haveourwar. The one instigated onourterms,ourground, with our peopleunited. Not a rushed one because the man leading Ilasall was cunning enough to turn us into fools he can easily squish under his boot.”

His words made sense, but their knock on the stone cage encasing my heart was like a faint vibration of a dream never to come true.

“Why aren’t we seeing this the same way?” I asked, concentrating on the next lunge, then a jump, a strike, a duck, and a jab, half my focus directed to maintaining my balance on the slick ground.

“Because war now would be a reckless decision, and I am not a stupid man.”

“You’re saying we’re fools?”

“I am saying you are in pain. Pain that clouds your reasoning until you cannot see anything else.”

“What if the city keeps sending its troops to us?” Zion switched his knife to his left hand, and I followed his example.You had to train with both in case you lost one. “What if they hunt our guards down until we have none, steal our women until they’re all locked up behind their gates, change their security again, and this time, we can’t do anything?”