Page 32

Chapter

Twenty

TATE

Since she’s going to be around me all the time now, I gave up on avoiding Ara. I enjoyed her company in the library so much that I deliberately stayed away yesterday. I want to ask questions she’s not ready to answer.

My gaze wanders over to her, where she’s currently training with Zaza. She’s good with a sword and has no problem holding her own against the woman who has at least five years on her. I wonder who trained her because her form is excellent.

It’s six weeks since the recruits started, and while we are still deep in winter, today feels more like spring.

It’s much warmer here in the south than what I’m used to from home, not that I’m complaining.

The windows toward the atrium are open, letting in a fresh breeze, but the sparring hall is still too warm.

We have been training for over an hour, and all the men of our flight have lost their shirts by now. Even the women stripped down to their undershirts.

Only Summer is still fully dressed. And I’m wondering if I’m the only one noticing.

Today is a holiday, and unless we have guard duty, we are free, but that is no reason to slack off on training.

“I will drag you out to a bar tonight.” Jared grins and jumps back to avoid the grab I make for him. “No need to get violent.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Should have figured you’d fill my free evening for me. How come I don’t get a say in this?”

“Because I want a beer with my best friend. How’s that for a reason?” I hear other voices as another flight enters the sparring hall that, up until now, we had to ourselves. I keep my focus on Jared, not paying them any mind.

“I’ll tell you what,” Jared continues. “The best out of three, and whoever wins gets to decide about tonight. I’ll even hang out in the library with you if that is your idea of fun these days,” he teases, and I agree.

I win the first round, and we are well into the second when I hear a snide voice next to us.

“Maybe we should take our training outside,” a female says.

“I’m not in the mood to rub elbows with scum and murderers.

” My eyebrows jump up, Jared bristles, and we both turn to see who said that.

“What do you expect when they let someone like him lead a division?” a tall, blond girl states, seemingly uncaring that she has everyone’s attention now.

Rumors and hostility started when I was a runner, and someone spotted the mark over my heart.

A few busted lips and broken bones cured people attacking me openly and earned me a certain reputation, but there isn’t much I can do about the rumors without revealing my past, so they stick around… but murderer, that is a new one.

“And if manners and common sense could be bought, some people would actually be pleasant to be around.” I know that voice. Summer’s comment makes our whole flight crack up.

Is she picking a fight to defend me?

She and Zaza continue sparring like nothing happened, Zaza chuckling, and Ara grinning. Completely unaware of or ignoring the glares of the small group of people standing close to our mat.

I recognize the tall one now, Vaccari, the one Ara never gets along with, whatever the reason.

Another group of people enters the room, riders of the eastern division, this time. I tense.

“She humiliates me after everything she did,” Vaccari whines, instantly addressing Vega.

“Centurion, get your runner under control,” Vega hisses, and I turn to him to give him a piece of my mind, but Ara is faster.

My eyes widen when I see her stepping up to Vega, somehow managing to look down at a man who is not only taller but also outranks her.

“How about you get your runner under control?” she asks. “She comes waltzing in here throwing around accusations aimed at me and my centurion, while I simply stated facts. So if she feels addressed by ‘someone without manners and common sense,’ the boot seems to fit, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not sure if I should congratulate him on the size of his balls or tell him to grow some sense,” Jared whispers next to me, clearly awed.

I agree, but my gaze is glued to Summer.

I’m sure the situation will escalate in a second, so I throw up a shield between her and the eastern division, molding it to her to keep it from view.

We are not allowed to use our gifts on other runners or riders unless it’s an officially declared training bout with gifts or in case of an attack.

I count this loosely to the second group.

Summer’s eyes wander to me. Did she somehow see my shield?

The whole flight steps closer. Ara is one of us, even if it’s temporary.

“What did you say?” Vega demands to know from Vaccari, and she hems and haws, clearly not willing to repeat herself.

“It was: I’m not in the mood to rub elbows with scum and murderers and what do you expect when they let someone like him lead a division?” Ara replies helpfully. Vaccari stares daggers at her, then crosses her arms in defiance.

“I’m not wrong, though. He’s a murderer,” Vaccari points at Summer and then turns to me. “And he wears his disgrace stamped on his skin.”

Jared tenses next to me, his normally pleasant face murderous. But before either of us has the chance to react, Summer does.

She laughs.

Vaccari whips around, her glare once again on Summer.

“What are you laughing at?” she barks.

“You.” Ara chuckles.

“You think I’m funny?” Vaccari seethes.

“Either that or delusional.” Summer shrugs.

“It says dishonored right there,” Vaccari snaps and dares to point at the mark on my chest.

“You know that’s where you are wrong.” Summer strolls over to me, and lays her fingers right over the two parallel lines that make all the difference, her fingers now resting right above my heart.

My pulse jumps, and her gaze comes up to meet mine. Her eyes widen, and her lips part slightly. The awareness on her face burns through my veins. I've touched her body a few times by now, but this is the first time her fingers rest on mine, and we both know it.

She snatches her hand back like she got burned.

“He gave up a position out of his own choice,” she says, her eyes still fixed on me. Gods, a man could drown in those eyes.

She turns to Vaccari and walks back, stopping right in front of her.

“Get your markings right before you throw around accusations.”

I don’t like the look on Vaccari’s face, so I once more throw up a shield between them.

Vega shakes his head at Vaccari.

“Your father’s position doesn’t do shit for you here,” he warns her. “You better work on your attitude. You’ll help out with breakfast for the whole week. I’m sure the kitchen staff will be grateful, and I hope you learn something from it.”

Vega and his riders wander over to the free mats at the end of the hall, and the rest of our flight goes back to their training as well, leaving only Vaccari and her friends, Summer, Jared, and me.

I step closer. I don’t trust Vaccari. She leans in and only my gift lets me listen in.

“Watch your back, killer.” There is ice in her voice, but Ara doesn’t seem perturbed.

“Your boyfriend got himself killed. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“You killed him,” Vaccari hisses, and when her hand goes to her blade, I move.

I step behind Summer, fighting the urge to pull her behind my back.

“Careful or you’ll find out how fast you can trip and fall onto your own blade.” My voice is low and quiet, but Vaccari gets the warning, taking a step back, no longer so sure of herself.

“Maybe you should ask someone in your division what happened to Flaccus,” I tell her, and she turns and leaves the hall without another word.

“What happened to Flaccus?” Summer asks.

“I beat him to within an inch of his life,” I tell her.

“Well, then he must have deserved it.” Summer smiles and goes back to her mat like nothing happened. I don’t know what reaction I expected, but that hadn’t been it.

Jared and I exchange a look.

“I knew I liked him for a reason.” Jared smirks.

I nod, but my thoughts are hung up on two things—she hadn’t judged me, hadn’t even flinched when I told her I nearly killed another rider, and she displayed knowledge only common in circles carrying high positions.

They are the ones who need to know the difference between someone being stripped of their rank and someone giving it up willingly. And that circle isn’t too big.

There is no way we haven’t met before if she grew up like I suspect she did.

And the no judging part…yeah, I’m not going to analyze why that warmed my chest from within. But I’m distracted, which gives Jared the advantage he needs to beat me. So I’ll have plenty of time to contemplate those thoughts over a beer tonight.

Ara

I should have kept my mouth shut. From the moment Livia Vaccari opened hers, I knew she would only spout shit.

Seeing Tate without his shirt had been enough to make me stare, smooth golden skin over devastatingly cut muscles, the markings running up the whole length of his right arm and spilling onto his chest and down his right side until they vanished into the waistband of his pants.

My fingers had itched with the need to touch him, trace the black lines, and slip over the ridges of his abs.

But it had been the mark on his left chest that had snapped me out of my reverie.

It looked like an ornate X set over his heart, and when my eyes landed on the two parallel lines beneath, I was stunned and angry.

Dishonored, my ass. Whatever he had given up had been willingly. True, it wasn’t common to see someone give up a position out of choice, but how the fuck did anyone dare to give him shit about that and why didn’t he say something?

I had still been fuming about the injustice when Livia started spewing shit and I couldn’t stay quiet. I couldn’t. If that earned me more enemies, it was well worth it. Who was counting at this point, anyway?

“You know what, Summer? I like you,” Zaza declares while we are heading to lunch.