“This is why you volunteered,” I said, my voice all raspy and weak. “This is whyyouwanted to be the one to kill the kid.”
Understanding washed over his expression. “Oh,god,” he said like I was about to put him through something torturous. “Don’t glamorize this.”
“You can’t save them, so you kill them as painlessly as possible.”
I couldn’t reconcile the man I’d originally imagined with the one lying on the floor next to me. Every new fact transformed my opinion of him into something less dark than before.
Lucas was a man whose ethics had been molded by the atrocities of war, who believed worthy ends justified shady means. He did what he had to, even when it ripped him to pieces to do it.
He was a champion cloaked in shadows, a sinner bathed in light.
In one swift move, he sat up and gripped my hand in both of his. “Why are you still looking for something to redeem?”
“You are tearing your soul apart to save people from torture!”
“They still die, Sophia,” he said, incredulous. “I take their lives.”
I narrowed my gaze on him. “How long does it take to die from a severed carotid artery?”
His jaw clenched. “Longer than it takes to pass out from it.”
“So if it isn’t mercy, what is it?”
Face hard, he glared at me, and in that moment, I knew he wouldn’t admit it. He’d never see himself the way I saw him because he’d never existed on this side of things, watching his own people be skinned alive simply for wanting to be free.
“No one should suffer for a death they don’t deserve,” he said eventually. “Being humane doesn’t make me merciful. It doesn’t make me good. I don’t care about these people I kill.”
I glanced down at his scarred hands holding mine. The gold band on his pinky glinted at me. “Yes, you do. You hear their voices at night, begging for mercy.”
He deflated, and when he spoke again, his tone was resigned. “You’re making me out to be better than I am.”
“I know what I see.”
With a long exhale, he whispered my name like he couldn’t believe the sheer extent of my stupidity. I lifted my gaze to him, unable to stop myself from snagging on his mouth, remembering how it felt against mine.
“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
“And you’re the most confusing man,” I said. “But I think… I think I’m beginning to understand you.”
He shook his head and stood. “If you really understood, you would have killed me a long time ago.”
19
Traitor
Whoever, owing allegiance to the United States, levies war against them or adheres to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort within the United States or elsewhere, is guilty of treason and shall suffer death.
—U.S.C. 18 § 2381
Over the next couple of weeks, Theo’s shock over the possibility of saving two hundred prisoners had him making lists of questions to ask Lucas, who rolled his eyes at most of it.
“This is obvious,” he would say. “Does Uncle Theo really need me to spell it out for him?”
“He’s just trying to be careful.”
In the midst of it all, Lucas told me the Hunters had long suspected a traitor among them. “The other colonels and I are interrogating soldiers,” he said as we sparred. “I’m trying to find the rat.”
I laughed, imagining him searching for himself, but then the reality of the situation settled. “They don’t suspect you, do they?”
