Ender releases me.
“This isn’t over,” he promises.
I swallow nervously. The look in his eyes cannot be mistaken.
It is pure determination.
Ender Vale will not stop until he has unearthed all my secrets.
chapter
twenty-three
Ender
There are a dozen enforcers anticipating my return when I step inside. My jacket lies in my arms, the sleeve shorn where the bullet kissed my skin.
Haven walks beside me, undaunted by the men who hover around me. She doesn’t give me a second look before she heads off in the direction of her squad. Her hips swaying dangerously as she crosses the room. I clench my jaw, the unrepentant little thing; she isn’t even slightly remorseful that she shot me.
Knox rushes to my side, followed by a short enforcer whose brows are grazing his hairline.
“Ender,” Knox says. “I heard you were attacked.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Warrick got trigger-happy.”
“She shot you?” he asks incredulously.
“Correct.”
“And she’s alive?” Knox asks.
“Unfortunately.”
I grab a glass of whiskey from a passing server and drain it in one go. I roughly undo the button across my throat. People are staring at me. My jacket is gone, and the tail of my shirt is knotted around my bicep and stained with blood. This isn’t exactly a good look for the man who spoke about strength andorder a few minutes ago. My father would have a heart attack if he saw me right now.
“You need to see a doctor,” Knox says. “And we need to arrest her. Look, I like her, but she is a threat to you.”
“I am not afraid of her,” I say, giving him a warning look. “She’s being a brat and trying to get my attention. If anyone lays a finger on her, I will sever the hand that touched her, understood?”
Knox’s eyes widen. For a moment, I think he is surprised by my threat. It isn’t my most creative one, but the next words he speaks confirm that he is more appalled at the sentiment of me protecting her than my choice of words.
“Do you like her?” Knox asks.
I slam down my glass, a bit harder than I intended.
“I’m going to change, before dinner is served,” I say.
I turn on my heels and vanish under the arch. The sound of boots thudding behind me hints that Knox isn’t done with his line of questioning.
“Unless you plan to button my shirt, I don’t need you following me around,” I say.
“Youdolike her,” Knox accuses.
“Don’t be ridi?—”
“Sullivan was looking for her.”
I turn around so fast that Knox vanishes for a second. I march back towards the Hall. Fists clenched tight by my side.
