It's not the first time I've called on Dr. Smith, and it's no secret to him what kind of work I do, but that doesn't mean he likes it or agrees with the darker parts of my business. Shaking off a shudder, he announces that heneeds to gocheck on the remaining patients.
"How many?" Isla grabs the doctor's hand before he walks away, "How many people did we get out?"
"Forty two. And a half." He smiles sadly at her. "You did a very brave thing, and saved a lot of people. But they have a long road of healing ahead of them."
Her eyes start to water, and she nods. She doesn't even have to say it; I know she feels what she did was worth it. Dozens of lives were saved, andcountless generations were pulled from those grisly fates.I don't think it'sthe only placelike that they have, but wars aren't won in one swoop.
Tyrants are chipped away slowly, piece by piece, and withthe help of Alastor, we've taken away their mostpowerful weapon andnowweakened their hopes of growing their ranks. What happens next will be done in the shadows, keeping the public safe from knowledge that would tarnish their faith in good and evil.
"You've given them their lives back, Isla," Fritz tells her, echoing my thoughts. "No matter what happens next, those people get a taste of freedom because of you."
Tears gatherin her eyesas she looks at him, "Thank you."
He'sanannoyinglittle shit, but I guess he's not so bad.
At the end of the day, he's the only one who figured out what was really going on and managed to protect his girl and mine the best waythathe could when it came down to it.And Isla clearly cares for him, so I'll be fucking nice.
Well, I'll try.
A Bloodier Mess
Isla
"Home, sweet home," Eamon nudges my shoulder, turning on all the lights in the bunker.
I never thought I'd be happy to see this place again. But when my stitches were healed and it was time to decide what we do next, I knew nothing would feel asrightas being here. For now, at least.
The warmth has become an inviting balm to the cold outside, the smell of snow and the trees outside somehow permeating the walls. It really does feel like home.
I guessthatcouldjustbe the giant beast of a man I get to share it with.I think nomatter where we go, he'll be my home.Whether it's here or on a beach in Italy.
"Are you happy to be back?" I ask him, settling into the couch.
His green eyes land on me, beaming brilliantly, "Well I'm happy thatyou'reback. I've come and gone countless times while you've been stuck in the desert."
"Right." Bel wouldn't let him stay with us while I healed. Which, admittedly, was hilarious. "I guess you shouldn't have pissed Bel off."
He rolls his eyes playfully, planting himself in front of me and placing his palms on the back of the couch, cornering me in my seat, "Iwasn't the one who ran off with a half-thought-out idea and almost got themselves killed."
"Ya know you keep saying things likehalf-cockedandnot-thought-outbut my plans have all worked out basically exactly how I thought they would," I remind him, going over the disagreement we've had several times already, each time taking it less and less seriously.
"How could you have possibly known I would find you in time?" he asks, watching me with his head tilted, a cat waiting to catch his prey.
"Fritz loves social media more than anyone I've ever met and whether you admit it or not, he seeseverything, the truths and patterns others would overlook," I shrug. "And my mom loves any opportunity to brag about her successes. I used both of those facts to my advantage."
He hums in acknowledgment, "And your parents? They just believed you immediately?"
"That's the thing about cult members," I run my hand through his soft hair, fluffing it and watching as it bounces back into place. "They believe so wholly that they're right and that everyone else just needs to suffer long enough to see the light, so a sob story and a little groveling only emboldened their faith."
Lying to my parents wasn't hard.It certainly wasn't the first timeI'vehad to fake it for them for alittlewhile.But there was a burning in my chest at knowing my mom only loved this version of me, the one she concocted in her mind and tried to force me to be. She'snot capableof loving me as a person, only as a vessel through whom she can exact her ideals. That fact used to hurt, but seeing the reality of the life she's chosen and the life she wanted for me,all I feel is overwhelming pity for the person she's become.
Eamon sees the monsters trying to play with my mind, kissing me chastelyon the lipsto chase them away.
"You're not off the hook yet, you know," I tell him as his lips trace a line down my jaw.
He pulls back and looks at me strangely, "For what?"
"You lied to me," I had no intention of having this conversation with him in a hotel room with witnesses, waiting until we were in this cocoon to bring it up.
