I glance up at him, grateful. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
Bes grips the back of his neck. “Based on the sterling hue of your eyes, it’s possible you’re like Cec and I.”
I rub my forehead. That wasn’t one of the options Ansaldo listed. “And what exactly are the two of you?”
Cec chimes in. “We’re known as the Ilcheardaí, the most important faction. We possess the abilities of all the others: strength and speed, defensive strategies, healing powers, and the capacity to retain knowledge.”
My attention shifts between the two of them. They’ve never mentioned this faction before, which means they’re rare enough for me to question who else inside the order itself even knows of their existence.
All that power inside one person sounds dangerous. Especially for someone like me, who has no clue what they’re doing.
“Miss Hawkins.” Bes speaks softly, tugging my attention over to him. The way he says my name—with a deep sort of sorrow… I regret ever telling him he couldn’t call me Mel.And so many other things.“You don’t have to do this, any of it. Beyond the blood oath, you never swore any other allegiance to them. Cec healed you to save your life, but it doesn’t mean you’re tied to the order.”
A jagged rock sits heavy in my stomach. “Doesn’t it?”
Bes opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand. I like to pretend I’m brave, and half the time, it often manifests itself into the truth. Yet, even I know I’ll need more than a simple manifestation this time.
“I appreciate the concern, Bes. But after everything I’ve been through, I want to take down these fascist bastards as much as you do. I’m not sure if joining your merry band of misfits is the right way to do that. If it’s the only option I’ve got, then I’m going to have to find a way to get right with it.”
Bes silently straightens. I take a moment to look him over: his shirt is creased and blood-stained, and bruises have already formed around his wrists from when they were bound earlier. It doesn’t look as if his stitches reopened, and the new bullet wound on his leg has already stopped, but heisbleeding from a cut on his hairline.
The biggest difference, though, is his eyes: they’re empty. Like he’s not here with us, but back at the castle, watching everything play out again in gory detail.
I reach out for his hand and squeeze it; his gaze snaps to mine, unsure.
“After Ingrid shot me, I thought I was a goner. But you saved me—both of you did.” I fight back a sob clawing up my throat. “I was afraid: afraid of dying, of never seeing my nonna again, of never getting the chance to…”
I trail off. Despite coming face to face with my own mortality, I’m still not brave enough to tell Bes how I feel about him. To apologize for what I said and did in the Archives.
After a moment, Bes places his free hand against the space between my right shoulder and my neck. My pulse thunders beneath his touch as understanding softens his expression.
After a moment, he grabs my forearm with that same hand, holding my gaze as I sit up and swing my legs over. I try tostand, but my knees buckle beneath me the moment my feet touch the floor. Bes instinctually wraps his arms around me and clutches me to him. The bullet wound in my shoulder aches dully—but definitely not as much as it would if not for Cec—from the contact.
I close my eyes for a moment, reveling in his warmth, in his touch. There’s something peaceful about being in his embrace.I never want to leave it.
Chest trembling slightly, he tightens his grip on me and speaks low in my ear. “For a moment up at the castle, I thought I’d lost you. When I saw you lying on the ground, bleeding out and powerless to stop it, I—”
I tip up my chin to find him watching me, brow pinched in agony, nostrils flared.
Eyes flashing, his next words have a finality to them. “Ingrid deserved much worse than a bullet in her head.”
I laugh softly, once. “She absolutely did, but it’s alright.”
His jaw ticks. “No, it’s not.”
“I know.” I quirk my lips up into a half-smile. “That’s just something people say when they’re trying to reassure someone.”
His attention shifts to my bullet wound, slowly resting his right palm against it. I expect to feel immense pain, but I don’t. Only a profound twinge lingers, seeping dully into my bones.
“Miss Hawkins…” He doesn’t say anything more.
Cec clears his throat. “I know I’m mostly blind, but Iamstill here.”
I take a step back and Bes releases me, my legs solid beneath me now. I regard Cec, more grateful than ever to have the two of them by my side.
“So, what do we do now?”
Cec starts pacing back and forth in the small room, cane in hand. “We have no idea where Mara and Kali are, and we can’t be sure if Anders has been compromised. Neither are we ableto contact him to let him know where we are. All the same, we should head for the rendezvous point.”
