“Sit,” the captain snapped, jerking me to his side in the muck. “Stay.”
I stumbled, catching myself on his hip with a squeak. Teeth bared, I righted myself, palms tracing the edge of his sidearm beneath his jacket for a moment before I put some much-needed space between us.
My heart lurched.
Ki.
I could sense it, thanks to the High Priestess. A pale shadow of what I knew was there, but humming in the slumbering core of his weapon.
“She just can’t help herself,” the captain said, scowling at me. “Not when it comes to Tilcot. Justhasto goad him.”
“Fuck.” Marco pushed a muddy hand through his hair, making it stick straight up. “Tilcot? What did she—”
Tugging the egg from his pocket, the captain said, “Later,” under his breath, and tossed the bit of chromed Glaith to the soldier before my wrists could do more than tingle.
Marco paled beneath his tan. “Holyshit.Is this—is this ordnance for the SAG Turret?”
At Marco’s exclamation, the other men in the trench stilled, hanging on the captain’s next words.
“Sure is.”
“Of all the bloody stupid wastes of—” Marco cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We have the front lines under control! The rebels aren’t doing anything that warrants a show of force likethis.” He rolled the egg between his palms, puffing on his smoke as the other men murmured amongst themselves, scarcely bothering to conceal excited murmuring. “What exactly is your plan here?”
Inky eyes found mine. “Take a shot at the shields. See what happens.”
“Youcan’tbe serious!” Marco flicked his cigarette, flinging a hand toward the hulking gray beast sitting sentinel on the battlefield. “Fucking Elites. You want to use thisprecious,limited ammunition to measure your cocks?”
The captain smirked, ignoring the men passing grins between them, dark eyes flicking to the turret, my parasite, and back. “If you’re holding the tape, what does that makeyou?”
Marco clutched his heart, staggering as the gathered soldiers laughed. “Take it from a life-long veteran of this abuse, gentlemen,” Marco announced, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “Should an Elite come to you with hat in hand,beggingfor your expertise and protection, turn him down cold.”
“Hat in hand, huh?” the captain asked, kneeling in the dirt behind the turret. Making minor adjustments.
I followed, eying the silver chain glimmering against his nape.
“Oh, he sells a pretty package. Spins visions of glory in battle,” Marco began, painting a picture with his hands and voice. “Promising spoils of war, women, and luxury.”
The captain rolled his eyes, lips twitching.
“The extra pay—if he ever bothers to cough it up—is bloody terrible,” he continued, seizing my elbow and pulling me away from the captain’s side and the pendant both.
I slapped at his fingers, splattering myself with mud.
“Any women he collects are eitherhisor off limits.Andhe’s given me theluxuryof babysitting the lady wildcat here!” Giving me a little shake before he released me, Marco held the chrome egg aloft. “The only thing that makes it worth it, gentlemen,” he continued, “is watching the occasional ki-fueled, dick-measuring explosion at close range.”
“Alright, alright,” the captain said, stroking the turret’s flat gray flanks with a loving caress. “Just load it up, will you? There’s not much I can do about your spending habitsorterrible luck with women. Besides,” he added under his breath, claiming the built-in stool behind the turret’s shield, “we have an audience.”
I glanced over my shoulder—at the giant of a man watching us from behind thick, tinted glass—and sneered. The general wanted a show, did he?
Marco’s chin dipped once, though he said, “Now everyoneknowsyou’re lying, Captain,” at full volume. “The ladies love dear old Marco.” Setting the chrome egg into a tube at the turret’s back end, he snapped it shut with an ear-splitting clang. “Back to it!” Marco shouted, swirling his finger in the air as the soldiers jumped to do his bidding. “Eyes forward. We need cover while the SAG charges.”
“How close are they?” the captain asked, and I felt his senses flare out around us, checking for himself with his forbidden, stolen ki-sense.
I picked at the collar, trying in vain to separate it from my skin, but did not fight him. Not yet. Rather, I watched Marco’s lips, hanging on his next words.
Staring down the scope of his weapon, Marco shrugged. “A hundred yards. Maybe less?”
A hundred yards? That wasnothing!I could cover that ground inseconds—all I needed was a single chance, a lapse in vigil and I’d flee. Even without safety of cover I could make that sprint, for the captain wouldn’t destroy the one thing he needed most! All the better if I could tear my pendant from his neck and approach Belle’s good men bearing gifts.
