“What do you like best about Ms. Warrick?” she asks. “Besides her beauty.”
“Her humor,” I reply. “She never fails to amuse me.”
Haven’s head turns towards me. My answer must surprise her, after all, her sister is rather serious.
I look down at her, trying to ease the anxiousness in her eyes. My palm lies flat on her waist, thumb rotating gently.
“Her strength,” I continue. “And fearlessness inspires me.”
The reporter asks another rapid-fire question, but I don’t make out the words. All I can see are those bright green eyes locked on mine.
“Excuse us,” I murmur.
I guide Haven away from the vultures. She looks a little pale.
“Do you need a drink?” I ask. “Fresh air?”
Haven opens her mouth when a voice cuts us off.
“Haven,” her father greets.
My chest lurches when Haven steps closer to me, as if she is seeking my protection. A part of me likes that she reaches for me. She did it earlier when we first entered the room, and the crowd overwhelmed her.
“Warrick,” she replies dully.
Her father stands before us in full military regalia. The high-collared jacket fits him like a glove, the regime insignia gleaming at his shoulders and breast. His medals are aligned so perfectly that they look like they’ve been carved into the fabric.
“Has she been behaving?” Warrick asks, barely sparing her a glance.
I stiffen at his words. There is no warmth in his tone.
“She’s been wonderful,” I say, pulling Haven closer. “Everything I could have wanted and more.”
Warrick’s brows rise, and I can feel Haven’s gaze on me.
“That is unexpected,” Warrick says slowly. “Haven’s never been one to follow orders. It’s why I never accepted her requests to train at the Forge. She lacks discipline. Unlike Mercy, who is thriving there. Her accomplishments are a great thing to behold.”
His mouth twists in a cruel smile. His words are worse because everything he speaks of is what Havendid. She carved a place for herself at the Forge despite her father’s disapproval. His pride should be directed at her.
“Does it hurt, Haven?” he asks. “To see her living your dream.”
Haven steps away from me. Her mouth downturned, and her fists clenched to her side.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need the ladies’ room,” she says.
I reach for her, but she’s gone before I can speak a word.
I glare at Warrick, who watches her with a cruel smile.
“Satisfied?” I ask coldly. “You’ve spoiled her night.”
“Whatever sweet words she plies you with, it is all a lie,” he says, staring at Haven as she cuts through the crowd. “She’s plotting something. I can sense it. I’m surprised she didn’t force her sister to trade places with her, so she could run away.”
“How would you even know if she did?” I ask. “You don’t know them at all.”
If he had, he would have known that Mercy was not a fighter and Haven was too stubborn to fall in line.
“I know their heat signatures,” he says offhandedly. “I’m a Kinetic, after all. They cannot trick me.”
