9
Prek’s question settles around me as I eye him. He’s still bald, and I wonder if that’s a choice or if hair loss forced his hand. The smooth dark skin of his face is clean shaven, his red-brown eyes settled intensely on me. His features don’t hint at any kind of emotion as he waits for me to speak.
“Lennox is one of us now, she can’t die,” Rogan snaps at him belligerently, and it’s all I can do not to turn around and cover his mouth with my hand.
Maybe Prek will dismiss anything he says as incoherent ramblings.
“I saw your dead body in the med tent that night,” Prek states, his eyes still on me.
And maybe not.
Prek looks from me to Rogan like he’s trying to place clues together in order to solve a difficult problem. “One ofusnow?” he repeats.
Rogan chirps out an arrogant, “You know it,” and I huff frustratedly.
Inebriated Rogan just went from adorable to a liability real freakin’ quick. I turn to Marx. “Can you take him somewhere and sober him up?” I ask, my eyes screamingget this loose-lipped fucker out of here right now.
Marx quickly grabs Rogan, pulling an arm over his shoulder, and practically drags him off the table and out of the room.
“What are you doing here, Prek, and why the hell are you picking a fight with us?” I ask, turning away from the doorway and focusing my attention back on the Order member. He seems entirely too calm for someone who woke up tied to a chair. “Are you following Rogan?” I press, knowing that Prek hates him and figuring that’s probably the most logical answer.
Life note: start checking for tails whenever you go anywhere.
I watch a debate take place in Prek’s eyes. I can see him trying to deduce how to proceed, and it makes me wonder what options he’s considering. I’ve seen him run withpowerful and arrogant, like that night that he wrecked Rogan’s car with the both of us still in it. There’s also thededicated soldier, which is what he always was when he watched over me at the Order’s headquarters. He wasfair and curiouswith me when I called Tad to tell him where I was and that I was okay after Rogan sold me out. And I know he’sdriven and ambitiouswith a smattering ofpettymixed in.
Will he try to play me, or will Prek finally reveal who he is at the sum of all of those parts?
He pulls a deep breath in, studying me like the answers might just be written in the planes of my face, and then he exhales, and it’s clear in his eyes that a decision has been made. I don’t say a word, the need to rush not riding me even though maybe it should.
“Contrary to what Hemamancer Kendrick believes, my world does not revolve around him,” Prek declares, and then he sags ever so slightly in the chair. “I wasn’t following Rogan, I was following Alvarez.”
The name sparks recognition, and I try to put a face to it.
“The Filipino guy on my team who likes to play cards,” Prek supplies, and I immediately make the connection.
My brow furrows, and I try to figure out why he would have been here. He was quiet but friendly. He made me tea once. It was amazing, and then he showed me how to shuffle a deck like a pro. He laughed and gave up pretty quickly when I proved to have shitty dexterity. I kicked his ass at Go fish after that though, so I considered us even.
“A couple hours ago, Alvarez got a call and then asked to leave. I don’t know why that sequence bothered me, but it did. Maybe it’s because the team was under investigation and I was looking for anything and everything that could be a red flag, but I decided to follow him. “I discreetly slipped a tracker on him in case he slipped into a line, and then I grabbed a tranq gun for back up.”
Prek’s explanation washes over me, and I sort through it for any hint of lies or missing key pieces. “And Alvarez led you here?”
“He did. He sat at the bus stop on the other side of the street and just watched this building. I didn’t know what to make of it, and then out of nowhere, you pulled up. Alvarez left after about ten minutes, but when Kendrick started carrying boxes to the car, I decided it was time for answers. Either he was stealing or some other fucked up thing was going down, so I stopped him. I thought you were some kind of reflection spell, which is illegal by the way, but now I’m starting to think I’m wrong. How the fuck are you here?” he demands, anger simmering in his words and a hint of hurt ringing in his tone.
This time, the debate goes on inmyhead. Will I lose or gain by telling him the truth? Is it worth the risk?
“How did I not even notice you?” I ask as I think back to pulling up to the shop. There were two Order members right on top of us, and neither Rogan nor I had any idea.
Prek smirks, his arrogant side shining through. “I’m good at what I do, Osteomancer,” he tells me silkily.
I raise an eyebrow at that. “I mean, not that good, you are tied to a chair right now,” I point out, and he snorts an incredulous laugh.
“Will you tell me what’s going on?” he presses, aware of my internal debate.
“Depends,” I answer evenly.
“On?”
“If you’re in or out?” I provide cryptically, and he huffs out another incredulous laugh. “You have to decide, Prek, because the fact of the matter is, knowing the truth is dangerous. You even seeing me right now puts you on a list of loose ends, and I think we both know that you answer to higher-ups who aren’t too fond of loose ends,” I tell him, trying to open his eyes without spilling secrets that aren’t mine to spill. “If you want answers, decide which side of the fight you’re on, because everything is about to come crashing down, and it’s them or us, Prek.”
