“I’m pretty good at not dying.”
The truth of that statement was absolute. The Blood Colonels weren’t just lethal. They were survivalists. There was a reason that amongst thousands of Hunters, only a few dozen had risen to his rank.
I touched my forehead, a headache burgeoning. “This makes no sense.”
He sighed again, put-upon and impatient. “I thought they’d send someone smart.”
I side-eyed him, finally quelling the impulse to spout off something rude.
“I am Lucas Scott,” he said. “High-ranking strategist and executioner of a violent, authoritarian regime. I approached the Defiance of my own free will, offering intelligence. Surely you don’t think I’d do that assuming I’d survive?”
What?
He was a Hunter! The NAO specifically created his branch of the military to eradicate the Defiance. Why would he help us knowing he’d probably die doing it? What was I missing?
“Why?” I asked again.
When he replied, his voice was clipped, each word honed and pointed. “They hurt my sister.”
“They hurt a lot of people.”
“Not the person I care about.”
Ten seconds passed while I merely stared, speechless. He would topple their entire regime for a slight to his sister?
No. No way. No fucking way.
But I didn’t care enough to pursue it further. Or maybe I was too scared. I left after memorizing everything he told me, eager to get away. When I returned home, Theo’s relief at seeing me alive was palpable. He gave me a careful embrace before I spilled the information I learned. Theo didn’t pry into whether any extracurricular activities had occurred, bless him. How would I explain the utter enigma?
Mountains and mountains of regret and turmoil piled atop my shoulders. What exactly had I gotten myself into? I’d walked into that house and met the devil himself, a man with pinpoint objectives and unclear motives.
That night, I settled into my pillow, haunted by the words of Lucas Scott.
Not the person I care about.
Notpeople, butperson. As if nothing else deserved his time or energy. They hurt his sister, and he decided to dissolve them from the inside. It was a seemingly impossible task, and yet, by the livid certainty in his demeanor, I had no doubt he possessed the ability.
Still, did no one else matter to him? He would be responsible for countless deaths, for the demise of his own people, all for an offense against his sister.
What would he do if she died?
I trembled and curled into myself, shutting my eyes against the possibilities… Because if a man like Lucas Scott—bloodthirsty and coldhearted—lost everything, if he cared about nothing and no one, what was to stop him from destroying the world?
4
Cold-Blooded Killer
The unauthorized termination of a comrade-in-arms shall be prosecuted as fratricidal treason and carry a mandatory sentence of death.
—FRIENDLY FIRE ACT, N.A.O.C. 10 § 1975
In the days after I met Lucas Scott, Devon detected my disquiet. “What’swrong?” he asked at least five times.
“I just miss Tekqua,” I finally responded, and he didn’t ask again after that.
Adam, however, continued to eye me with interest. “Something bothering you, Soph?”
I smiled in that sarcastic way that always got him laughing. “Just the usual death and destruction.”
