Page 17

R.E.E.C.E

" S o, your great debt to society," Haze muses, as I sink my hands, elbows deep, into hot, soapy water, "is to be a slave?"

I sigh, scrubbing down a plate. "I'm a maid."

"Do you get paid?" I don't bother to provide her with a response, and she takes that as her answer. Haze laughs, and I glare at her. She's made herself comfortable, sitting on the counter, legs crossed, with a bottle of Doctor Bird rum in her arms.

Where did she get rum?

"It's the law," I try to explain.

"That Reece Adams is to be a slave?"

"No," I grit, "that all creatures have a duty to society. Money is no longer relevant. Power and respect are the new currency."

"If power is currency, why is the Saviour's most beloved human pet elbows deep in sludgy water cleaning after her so-called peers?" Haze leans close, her mismatched eyes staring at me inquisitively.

"Shh!" I hiss, taking a quick glance around the kitchen. "No one knows."

Haze blinks. "So... You're stupid?"

Perhaps. But, since I met Riot nine years ago, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for me or my son. Even if it meant enslaving a Nightwalker and sneaking her into the SDF compound so she could protect me.

Oh God, we're in so much trouble.

I'm not exactly popular here amongst my fellow species. I loved a Nightwalker, and I protected him. Considering how much pain they had caused, I single-handedly performed the ultimate act of betrayal against them—against all of them.

If I tell them I'm a friend of the Saviour, it won't earn me forgiveness. It'll just feed their hatred. I have no interest in that.

I blow an exhausted breath. "I'm surviving."

"Poorly."

I'm about to snap at her, but when the doors open, Sergeant Wilkins—the man in charge of Storm Base, and one of the many secret bases that belongs to the SDF—barges inside. A scowl on his face that only deepens when his gaze stops on mine.

"Why aren't the toilets cleaned yet?"

"I was just—"

"Enough! Do I look like I have the fucking time to be running after you?" He growls, his voice booming throughout the room; I flinch at its sound. "Get it done. Now!"

I bite my tongue and stand stiffly at attention, every instinct urging me to hold my ground, to not let the frustration bubbling inside my chest boil over. "Sergeant, I-I'm washing the dishes. I just need five minutes, and I'll move on to the toilets."

My words were small and hesitant; the sound causes my cheeks to warm up, but I needed to say something. If I hadn't, it would just be another thing he would yell at me about later.

"Five minutes?" Sergeant Wilkins spits the words out like venom. "If you hadn't chosen to clock in at the last fucking second, you wouldn't need five minutes. How many times do I have to tell you to get your ass here fifteen minutes early?"

I remain silent, embarrassed. He's yelled at me in front of crowds before, but somehow, the fact he's yelling at me in front of Haze feels different. I clench my fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as he paces back and forth.

I hate this. I hate his anger. I hate that my throat is closing up, and I can't say a damn thing to him to tell him that I hate myself, too. That I punish myself enough. That I brought this on myself.

"One second, Reece. One day, you'll be a second late, and you'll be done here. Understood? General Black may have saved you, but you're on thin ice. I'll be here when you're late and watch you get the punishment you deserve."

Yes. That's what they want. That's what they all want. To see me fall, watch me stumble, and throw me away into the Red Zone when I fail.

"Ooh, what's the punishment?" Haze asks, her tone of voice clearly intrigued. Sergeant Wilkins snaps his gaze to her, his eyes widening slightly. From the surprise on his face, he obviously didn't notice her, but now that he has, he can't seem to look away.

I don't blame him. Haze is mesmerising, as all Nightwalkers are, but she's different. There's something about her; a cross between real and imaginary. A dream you can hold but never have.

"Who are you?" Sergeant Wilkins asks, his voice still rough from shouting. My heart practically stops in my chest. Haze seems to notice, because she smiles.

"Haze."

Sergeant Wilkins stiffens his spine and clears his throat.

"Sergeant Albert Wilkins." He pauses, running his gaze up and down her figure.

She wears an old, weathered, zip-up jumpsuit.

The corset around her waist features reinforced stitching and metallic clasps that seem far too complicated to remove. "I haven't seen you here before."

I'm about to jump in, the lie already on my tongue that Riot had prepared, but Haze is faster.

"I'm new." Haze grins. "I accidentally saved a General in the Yellow Zone, and suddenly, I'm living in luxury. Who knew it would be that easy?"

"G-General." My eyes widen, as surprised as Sergeant Wilkins. I know she's lying, but I expected her to just come out with the truth. It wouldn't save her, but it wouldn't save us— me —either.

Sergeant Wilkins clears his throat again and stares her down, suspicious. "Why were you in the Yellow Zone?"

"Born there." She shrugs, placing her drink down. "You can't help where you're born, right, Sarge?"

He laughs softly. "Right."

I stare at Haze, unsure what to think. She's keeping up the pretence, which should be a relief, but now I'm suspicious.

He steps closer to Haze and runs his finger along her jaw. Haze doesn't seem affected as she continues to grab a cup I had washed and begins to pour herself a drink. I hesitate, unsure if I should leave. Riot said she couldn't leave my side, and I wasn't completely comfortable leaving her alone.

Also, they seem to forget I'm here.

Sergeant Wilkins leans closer to her, and I take a step back. The man isn't ugly, but he isn't pretty to look at, either. Perhaps I'm biased, or maybe I didn't think he’s Haze's type... What is Haze's type?

Whatever it is, I should probably step in. Sergeant Wilkins is an asshole, but he would never be able to forgive himself if he found out he slept with a Nightwalker. He can barely look at me.

"Sergeant, is that everything?" Sergeant Wilkins seems to snap out of his trance and turns to me with an annoyed glare.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" I point at the dirty dishes wordlessly, his jaw clenching. "Hurry up. I want the bathrooms cleaned in the next hour."

I nod, and he turns on his heel and storms out without another word. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"He obviously wants to fuck you."

I'm so thrown by Haze's words that I jolt elbows deep into the sink and get myself wet in the process. "W-What?!"

"Don't pretend like you don't see it," she muses and looks me up and down. "You are beautiful. I could taste his arousal before he even stepped through the door. The man has issues."

"He was ready to jump you right in front of me!" I shriek, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Well, I'm a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." She grins, something dark glinting in her gaze. "He wants you. He desires you. All of you."

What the hell do I say to that?!

"F-Forget that," I snap, stepping back. "Why did you play along with our scheme when you're not exactly here of your own free will?"

Haze shrugs, taking a sip of her drink.

"You'll pay, all of you." My gaze connects with her mismatched eyes. "That's already decided. Do you know what that makes all of you, Reece?" Haze drawls, staring down at me.

I shrink into myself and take another step back, but it seems no matter how much distance I create between us, I still feel like I'm staring into the depths of death itself. I shake my head.

"Prey." She sets her cup down, pearly white canines glinting at me promisingly. " My prey. Mine to hunt. Mine to toy with. You're all mine to kill . "

My entire body stiffens, paralysed, as her eyes burn gold and sear the promise onto my soul. I can’t look away from them; maybe I don’t want to. Beauty, destruction and death stare down at me, and I can't breathe.

She grins and turns away, running a hand through her hair and pauses. Haze turns back to me and demands, "Braid my hair."

I scowl at her, and just when I'm about to refuse, she taps her finger against my forehead hard enough that I stumbled slightly. "Well?"

"O-Okay," I murmur, rubbing my forehead as she hops onto a stool and turns away from me. My hands shake violently as my fingers run through her ice-white strands. We sit in silence as I braid her hair, the end reaching the middle of her thigh.

Suddenly, memories flicker of me, much younger, braiding my sister's hair. She also had long hair, except it was a dark chestnut brown that always shone like copper in the sun. While Haze's hair is healthy, beautiful, and soft, it doesn’t shine like hers did.

I grit my teeth, only now realising that I haven't braided another person's hair since my sister—not even my own. I take a step back, and Haze turns towards me, with her braid in hand and a devious smile on her lips. "It's pretty. It's no wonder your sister had you do this every morning."

"Stay out of my head!" I snap, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. No one had ever used my sister to hurt me until Haze.

"That can be arranged." I reel back, surprised. "For a price."

Of course. Nothing would be for free when it comes to a Nightwalker. I learnt that the hard way. But I can't have her peeking around in my head; the secrets I know, the people she could hurt with them. It wouldn't be good for anyone.

I grit my teeth. "I'm not breaking laws or betraying anyone close to me."

"Relax. Lucky for you, it's actually quite simple." Haze waves me off. "Don't let that Sergeant get close to me, no matter what. Is that easy enough for you?"

I blink, confused. "That's it?"

"I know, it's awfully kind of me, isn't it?" She grins. "In exchange, I won't look into your memories."

"And how do I know you'll keep your end of the deal?" I can't trust her. She's a Nightwalker. I won't do it again.

"You have nothing to worry about, Reece. I always keep my promises, as you'll soon find out." She grins darkly, but it quickly falls, and cold, golden eyes glare into mine. "But if you fail… I'll break your fucking mind."

I stiffen, eyes wide as she hops off the stool and skips to the exit without a backward glance while I'm stuck questioning my life choices.

Oh, God. "I seriously hope you know what you're doing, Riot."