“By who?”
“An asshole with a death wish.”
I narrow my eyes. “And what happened to this asshole with a death wish?”
She nudges me with her toe and smiles. “You can’t hunt him down and kill him if that’s what you’re asking,” she says, clearly meaning the man is already dead.
Every conversation with Amara seems to further dispel the illusion that she is defenseless, and the more I learn about her past, the clearer her true disposition becomes. She is more like one of my warriors than one of my sisters. I have heard rumors about some humans being violent, but I did not expect Amara to be one of them. I wonder how many humans are like her. She is caring and gentle, but behind her dark brown eyes, I can see the violence there. I can feel it simmering beneath her surface.
“You ok?” she asks.
I smile. “Just nervous.” Everything about our plan has me on edge, but this is the only way to ensure I do not lose my throneor my ability to stop the Tusku slave-ships. “Are you ready for today?” I ask.
She blows a breath between pinched lips, puffing out her cheeks. “As ready as I can be.”
Sliding fully onto the bed, I grip her feet and pull her towards me, wrapping her legs around my torso and my arms around her waist. “I need you to promise me something.”
“What’s that?”
“When you see Gaius, do not anger him. Do not let him see you as a threat.”
She scoffs like my request is ridiculous, but it is not. She is fire, and fury, and war incarnate, and it is clear she does not know this about herself. I am certain she could kill Gaius, but there are too many guards. She would not survive what happened after he was dead.
My hand moves to her chin, and a deep thunder vibrates my chest. “Amara, do not give them a reason to kill you.”
Her discerning gaze digs through me, and her expression morphs to one of concern. “Hey,” she coos, placing her hands on either side of my face, “it’s ok. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Her words do little to soothe me or my shadow. The darkness in me would rather tear this galaxy apart than let her out of my sight. The instinct to protect is overwhelming. “Promise me you will follow the plan and do only what we discussed. Promise me you will not risk your life.”
She nods. “I promise.”
29
DISCO BALL
AMARA
“AND YOU’RE SURE it’ll fit in your greaves?” I ask as I turn and walk across the cell again, already sweating in the heat of mid-morning. The skin beneath my arms burns from the scratchy fabric of the bed-sheet I’m wearing as a toga, but every time I look at my nurse’s uniform, I can’t bring myself to put it on.
“I am certain,” Vexar answers.
“And Marius? You’re sure he can get the ship to us?”
“Yes. He is the only person with access.”
I scratch my forehead. “And you trust him?”
“With my life.”
We’ve been over this plenty of times, but I need a final rehearsal. Some training you can’t unlearn.
I run through my mental checklist one last time. The message for Roveen has been updated. We’ve practiced our ‘mission-abort’ signal, and we have an escape plan if needed—sort of. We both know our individual objectives and our mission objective. We’ve covered priorities, capabilities, time-frames, weather, and pretty much everything else we could think of. And Vexar has drilled into me the rules of engagement—nokilling, no fighting, no snarky comments. I swear, it’s like he thinks I’m some sort of feral gremlin.
My teeth work over my bottom lip as my brain tries to find any remaining gaps in our plan. “And you’re certain you can win?”
“As certain as I am that there is air in my lungs.”
A sharp pain shoots through my lip, and I hiss. My fingers come back from my mouth bloody. I bit myself. “Shit.”
