Page 66 of Even Robots Die (Even Ever After #3)
Brice
T he fox waiting for me at the doors looks like he’s seen better days. He doesn’t give me his name and I’m not sure I would be able to recognize him among other people.
He looks like he’s in his twenties in human years, has brown eyes, brown hair and no facial hair. Nothing about him stands out, and that might be why he’s been picked to be the messenger.
I’ll give it to the foxes, this is clever.
No one can find someone they wouldn’t recognize, which is highly practical when you know the message you need to deliver won’t be well received.
“I’m only to give my message to the eldest Beaumont daughter,” the fox says with his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t seem to care about whoever he’s talking to.
After all, it’s evident that I’m not her.
It doesn’t change a thing for me. I’m not waking her up until I know exactly what has gone wrong. It’s the middle of the night and I can’t see why someone other than Stéphane would be here now if we’re not about to deal with some ugly shit.
I grab the guy by the collar and heave him up so he’s at eye level.
“Tell me whatever you came to say, and I might let you live.”
“No,” the guy tells me as if I wasn’t holding his life in the palm of my hand.
I wasn’t aware that foxes could be dumb sometimes. Or maybe he thinks I’m bluffing.
That’s something I could have done in the past.
I’m not bluffing now, though.
In a move he doesn’t see, I switch my hands from his collar to his throat and I squeeze just enough for his breathing to stutter.
“Wrong answer, foxy,” I say with a wicked smile as his hands grasp at mine, trying to loosen the hold I have on him.
It’s funny how he didn’t reach for my hand until it was already too late.
“I’m going to repeat myself only once,” I say, squeezing a bit tighter. “Give me the message you came to deliver, and I won't hurt you too much.”
I keep my hold tight until his eyes go wide in panic and then I loosen the grip on his throat a bit.
“What is your answer now?”
He coughs and then takes a big gulp of air.
“I have orders,” he says with a shake of his head.
True to my word, I don't ask again. Instead, I squeeze harder so he can feel I’m definitely not joking. His face turns a not so lovely shade of purple before I release my hold once again.
“How about now?”
It takes a bit longer for the fox to regain a semblance of composure, and even then, the purple has been replaced by an almost white face.
The man will definitely not hold a warm memory of his night.
“I’m just the messenger,” he says, and with that sentence I know he’s about to tell me exactly what I want, but that I’m going to hate every second of it. Maybe not as much as him, though.
I drop him to the ground, my hand still wrapped around his throat, but I’m not applying any pressure anymore and I press him to go on.
“The Terrier gave her father away to the birds. They told me she has three days to give herself to them in exchange for him or they’re going to send body parts.”
“Why do they want Florentine?”
“The weapons,” he blurts. “They know she’s the one who built them. They want to force her to make their own.”
Which means they don’t plan on letting her father free once they have her.
“Who do you work for?” I ask him.
It doesn’t make sense that a fox would bring a message for the birds.
“Myself!” he yells, and it sounds more like a cry.
“Talk,” I tell him, and he slumps against my hand.
“They have my little sister,” he says like he’s lost all hope. “They told me they would free her if I delivered the message.”
“You’re a fool if you believed them,” I tell him, and I want to think I would make a different choice if they had someone I love, but I’m not sure. I also want to pity him, but he’s here asking for Florentine to be delivered to the birds, and I can't have that.
I drop him to the ground.
I wish I could tell him to fuck off, but as soon as Florentine knows the birds have her father, she’s going to go save him. She won’t let him stay there any longer than necessary.
“Why would the birds have your sister?” I ask him.
Something doesn’t add up.
“We wanted to leave the Terrier , and they didn’t want me to go,” he says wearily. Now that he’s started to talk, it seems like every answer comes easily.
“They sold your sister off to the birds to keep you under their thumb,” I say with certainty.
He knows it’s not a question, but still nods in agreement.
I don’t know what he does for the Terrier, but it must be something important if they went to those kinds of lengths to keep him.
“They think the birds are going to win this war and want to be on the winners’ side of this when it’s over,” he adds without me even prodding this time.
“Why did you want to leave?” I ask him again.
“Blandine is twelve. Paris is at war. I was getting her out of here so she wouldn’t have to see the massacre it’s turning into. I was trying to protect her, and I failed.”
“Should you not get your sister back when you return to tell them you’ve delivered the ultimatum and you want to fight to free her, come back here. Whatever your job is with the Terrier, we’ll find a way for you to fight back,” I tell him.
I don’t think he’ll be back, but I had to offer. If I explain to Florentine what happened here tonight, I know she’ll see a bit of herself in that young man and that she will understand what he has to deal with, so for her, I have to offer him another option.
The fox looks at me with some new light in his eyes.
“I’m Simon, by the way,” he says before running away.
I guess we might see him again.
I return to my room and find Florentine still sleeping, but I don’t wake her up.
Silently, I turn the chair near the low table to face the bed and I watch her sleep.
She needs the rest. She might hate me come morning because I wasted precious time to get her father out of the cell that he’s probably rotting in now, but this is more important.
He can deal with a few rough nights. She’s barely been sleeping lately. She needs those few extra hours of sleep.
I’m ready for her ire if it means she’s healthier.