“I don’t think we should meet like this again,” Cyrus said, his dark eyes cool and assessing. “I appreciate what you’re all doing by calling us together, but every time we meet, we risk putting a target on our backs. It’s better if we keep our heads down and pretend everything’s fine.”
Hope bloomed in Isaac. If Cyrus could talk them into stopping this, Isaac wouldn’t have to report to Sloan about this shit anymore.
“But it’snotfine,” Daniel said, cutting a hand through the air in frustration. “Nathan thought somebody needed to speak up. If we stay quiet, things will only get worse.”
“Nathan’s gone,” Cyrus said, standing. “He tried speaking up. He tried brokering a truce. It didn’t work. So you can either keep your head down, or you can follow Nate out the door. Either way, these meetings have to stop, at least for now. Don’t text me again unless it’s for an emergency. In fact, it might be better to lose our numbers entirely.”
“You really want to just knuckle under and go along with what Sloan’s planning?” Aidan asked, carding a hand through his chestnut hair. “You know he’ll strike back at them for daring to come here.”
“Even though we definitely needed help,” Daniel added under his breath.
Yes, Isaac thought.Pleasedon’t meet like this again. The less he had to report, the better.
“Yes,” Cyrus said matter-of-factly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What are eight of us going to do against the might of the guild? People are scared and pissed off. If we try to take a stand, they’ll squash us. Now isn’t the time.Maybe there won’t ever be. We just have to accept that. We’re all here, working for the guild, for our own reasons. If you want to keep doing the work, you obey orders, whether you like it or not. If you can’t stomach the direction Sloan is taking us, you know the way out. Do like Nate, leave your ring behind, and go. Sitting here and bemoaning the facts will only wind up getting us all caught. Frankly, I don’t see enough reason to walk away yet. Sloan doesn’t have permission from the council to go after the traitors right now, and I’d rather keep working for the guild than cut out on my own. Doesn’t mean I like it, but I’ll do it. I suggest you all decide where your lines are, and until Sloan crosses them, keep your head down and your mouth shut.”
Now was his chance. Isaac pushed out of his chair and moved toward the door, too. “I agree with Cyrus. Not for the same reasons,” he cast a careful look at the other man, whose brow twitched upward as though in challenge. “Meeting like this is dangerous. I think we should avoid doing it for a while, just to be safe. It helps to know that we’re all on the same page, but unless we have a plan, this does nothing but put us all in danger. We should get out of here and get back to work before anyone notices we’re missing.”
Daniel sighed. “Fine. Dismissed, then.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Isaac slipped out of the room on Cyrus’s heels. Neither of them said a word. Cyrus was something of a loner. In fact, Isaac was surprised he bothered to have an opinion about the traitors at all. Like he said, they all had their reasons. Isaac’s were just more external than most.
Outside, the early morning sunlight was in full bloom, warming the grounds and casting the world in shades ofgold. Cyrus headed toward the training yard, and Isaac chose the opposite direction purely for the sake of being alone. The route took him around the back of the administrative building, and he eyed the jail in the distance.
The real culprit who had led Amon and the possessors here was locked up inside. Andrew Weston. He’d carved himself up with a tracking spell to allow Amon to find him even behind the blessed wall of HQ. A simple pipe bomb to the wall had demolished enough of the wards to render them all ineffective. How much longer would they hold him here? Isaac didn’t know what the council planned to do with him. He’d like to see Weston bleed, personally, but they didn’t usually care what he wanted. Weston’s blood would look very pretty painted on the wall.
That was why no one asked him.
“Paladin Morrow.” Sloan’s baritone voice called him to a stop as he approached, his mouth set in a tight line. He carried a plastic tupperware container in his hands.
Anxiety shot through Isaac. Did Sloan know about his punishment this morning?
Isaac glanced over his shoulder, but none of the dissenters were visible. “Commander. What brings you out here at this hour?”
He brandished the container. “Breakfast for the prisoner. I don’t want to pawn the job off on someone else. It seems too distasteful to make anyone else deal with him.” He nodded toward the administrative building. “Where are you coming from? I didn’t see you in the cafeteria.”
Something unpleasant coiled in Isaac’s gut that he couldn’t identify, and he ignored it. The guild taught him right from wrong. Reporting to Sloan couldn’t be wrong. “The rebels snagged me from the cafeteria a little while agofor a meeting. Not much was said. I think they just wanted to commiserate over Nathan leaving.”
Sloan’s expression soured. “Yes. That was unfortunate. I should’ve known better than to let him go anywhere near the traitors.”
He felt compelled to add, “Cyrus in particular seemed ready to be done with the whole thing. He told them to lose his number.” He chuckled. “Actually, he said we should all loseeach other’snumbers.”
“Good. I’m glad to see the dissent isn’t spreading.” Sloan shook his head. “I’m not surprised Nathan and Ira were meeting with such a group, but hopefully now that their influence is gone, the others will fall back in line.”
Isaac nodded. He hoped so, too, if only so he wouldn’t have to be caught in the middle anymore. Moral quandaries weren’t his forte. He’d rather be killing things.
Sloan gestured toward Isaac. “I heard about this morning. Hawley came to me right after.”
Isaac stiffened uneasily.
“You know how we feel about lying.”
“Yes, sir,” he murmured toward the ground. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
Sloan’s gaze was heavy. “You know I don’t have a problem with you hunting when you get restless. I don’t even mind that you enjoy it, although I think a certain amount of respect is due. It’s a serious job, and it should be treated that way. And as always, you must behonestwith us about these urges of yours. We don’t want you to slip up and hurt anyone or anything undeserving.”
“Yes, sir,” he said again. “I understand.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t I take that to the prisoner for you?” he offered, hoping to finish the awkward encounter.
“No, I couldn’t ask you to?—”
