Cursing myself for the detour, I dashed toward the couple. Tiny rocks sliced the rubber soles of my boots as I ran across the street?—
The dressed-in-loose-white-pants-and-a-matching-shirt man spotted me. His mouth dropped open, revealing the red flesh inside.
“What…” he trailed off, ruffled by the sight of a bloody soldier racing toward him. He wasn’t sure whether I was a good guy.
Despite wearing the uniform, I was far from the puppets Ilasall’s Head of Military called his soldiers.
Before the short man could say another word, a recoil tested my muscles. My forefinger slipped off the trigger right as a circular hole appeared above his nose. He sagged on the ground, his corpse cracking its head on the concrete path.
A gust of wind tousled my hair, chilling the moisture soaking the back of my skintight shirt. The current of air whipped aroundthe gaping woman, ruffling her ankle-length dress and molding around her rounded stomach.
She was pregnant.
Scanning the street for anyone who might have heard the shot, I ordered, “Get inside and lock the doors. Do not let anyone in.”
Silent, she gawked at me.
My patience snapped. “Go!Now!”
Gulping at the body of her assigned partner, she staggered toward the door, and I closed the chapter of killing another green-banded. He was merely another scene in a play of war.
My feet carried me swiftly down the street, closer and closer to the Spire, and with each step, I gradually lowered my guard.
Here, no kids as young as sixteen crumpled onto the asphalt, not like three blocks before. On this road, no black-banded citizens who had joined our cause fell from the windows, pushed out by the opposition. On this sidewalk, no blood seeped into the cracks.
But the farther I went, the more suffocating the quiet became. Faces flashed between the curtains as fearful gazes tracked my journey. Glass shards crunched as I weaved through the bullet-riddled personal vehicles, an obstacle course of sorts. The fog obscured the contours of ordinary objects, blurring their edges and altering them to resemble your nightmares.
My skin itched from the drying blood plastering my clothes to me, but it wasn’t anything new. The sensation was as familiar as the morning dew.
Until a glass building stood before me—toweredover me.
The Spire swayed with the wind, back and forth, oscillating like a melody of life and death.
Adrenaline must have been distorting my vision.
Because a man hovered before the double glass doors. His form screamed familiarity, the sharp shoulders toned, the waist lean and honed, the short hair streaked with crimson.
Speech abandoned me.
Zion, I mouthed as I came to a halt a foot before him.
His lips curled up, stretching the deep gash in his left cheek. “I see my favorite meal has deigned to show up.”
An hour passed. A day. A week. All the while, I simply…stared at him. Marveled at his grin. At his relaxed posture. At him actually standing in front of me.
With a trembling hand, I cupped the uninjured side of his face. At the first contact, at the hint of warmth emanating from him, Ibreathed.
He was tangible. Not a phantom of my imagination.
Careful not to aggravate his wound, I rested my forehead against his, our sweat gluing us together. “You’re real.” As long as I could feel him, I would believe it.
“Want me to prove it to you?” His exhale ghosted over my chin. “Unzip my pants, and you’ll see how real I am for you.”
My chest rumbled with amusement. If it was possible, Zion’s brain would probably relocate to his crotch. And wreak havoc whenever blood was involved.
“Later.” I skimmed my lips against his, savoring how his chapped flesh snagged on my own. “We have a job to do.”
Once Kali arrived—because shewas going to—Peter would meet his end at last.
