My stomach lurched as understanding—horrible and undeniable—dawned. “They’re…helpingthem.”
“Of course they are,” Marco said, brows climbing toward his hairline. “Your kind are healers. Women-magics, and whatnot.”
Ah, yes. Arrogance. I swallowed the grin, picking at my collar. Women-magics, indeed. He’d be choking on it when I was finished here. “I’m no healer,” I said at length, showing off my scarred right hand as evidence to my claim, “and I’ll have no part in giving aid to the parasites who feed on Tritan Blood.”
“They’re not all soldiers, wildcat.” He raised his arm to point. “That appears to be a pregnant woman struggling with childbirth, though by definition… I suppose it is aliteralparasite.”
I scoffed, scanning the crowd of silver-blonde heads for one woman. “Where is she?”
“Probably in her office. Over there,” he said, jerking his chin toward the far side of the room.
I followed his gaze.
“Like I said, she’s busy. We’ll have to wait—”
Oh, I was quite through with waiting. Without hesitation, I pushed past an Elite not much taller than myself, making a direct line toward the High Priestess.
“Sonofabitch—Wildcat, stop. You can’t just—”
“Can’t I?” I sneered, spinning around a Priestess laden with a stack of fluffy white towels.
“Oy! Get back here!”
Ignoring him, I slipped through the crowd, letting his bulky size work to my advantage, not stopping until I was a scant few feet from a door marked,Private, complete with a stocky Elite standing guard.
He blocked my path. “Not so fast, girl.”
“I have business with the High Priestess,” I snapped, fists clenched at my sides.
The Elite crossed his arms, smirking down at me. “Is that so?”
“Sorry, Jackson,” Marco said, catching up and seizing my arm. “Captain’s new girl is a right wild little terror. Needs a leash.”
“And a firm hand, by the look of it,” Jackson said, smirking.
“Right, well. That hand is supposed to be mine, for the time being. Captain put me on babysitting duty, the sadistic prick.”
Jackson snorted. “Got a runner, huh?”
“Apparently. And she’s a vicious little bitc—oomph!”
I dropped an elbow in Marco’s belly, this time successful in dislodging his hand—but paid for it, twofold. Jackson caught my wrist before I could strike again, yanking me off balance and pinning me to the wall, his forearm set against the back of my neck.
“What’s all the commotion?” the High Priestess asked, standing in the doorway with hands pressed to lips. “Goddess, Jackson! Release her. This is Mila,” she continued, tugging me to her side when the soldier did as she bade. “The new Priestess. She’s here for an assessment, remember? General Tilcot sent her.”
Jackson adjusted his shirt collar. “Someone needs to teach this new Priestess some manners.”
“Yes, of course,” the High Priestess replied, chin dipping. “Mila will behave, won’t you, dear?”
I licked my lips, eyes tracking the length of Jackson’s throat. “Of course.”
The High Priestesses’ fingers tightened on my elbow. “Marco, would you mind standing guard with Jackson? I’d like to have a private chat with Mila. See how she’s coping with the change.”
“She can throw a tantrum with the door open,” Marco snapped, massaging his gut. “I have my orders, Sasha.”
“I needsilenceto assess her abilities,” the High Priestess pressed. “My power isn’t what it once was, you understand.”
For a moment, Marco continued to scowl. Then he rolled his eyes, muttering something about the agony of babysitting, and said, “This is the only way into your office?”
