Her firelight eyes burn with rage. “Don’t beg, Leader Thorne. It’s unbecoming of a lady.”
She shoves his tie back into his mouth. Taylor’s slick and bloody hands grip around his neck, and if there’s any life left in him, it’s leaving him in short order. Weak, gurgling chokes escape his gag but Taylor doesn’t let up until the room echoes with a harsh snap. His body sags with mortal defeat, head lolling to the side. I gasp quietly at the sight. Grotesque, bloody bruises puff up on his lifeless face. One eye is completely shut and the other eyeball is protruding, dangling by a few nerves. She wrenches the tie out of his mouth, scattering some of his teeth across the floor, and rolls over to sit down.
Bile rumbles inside me, acid burning my esophagus. After gracelessly vaulting back into the room, I edge toward Taylor, cautious to avoid Thorne’s dead body splayed across the floor. He is as unattractive as a corpse as he was a man. I glare down at him.
“Who’s theputtananow?” I crouch next to Taylor and gently touch the side of her calf. “Taylor. We have to go.” She levels her wild eyes at me. Her body is deathly still, pupils blown, unresponsive. “On your feet, Eos.”
Her code name tastes sour in my mouth, but it works.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gradually she gets to her feet, bracing herself on the dresser behind her for support. She’s totally disoriented, as if she has no idea how she got into this room. “My gun.” She gasps when she bends down and holds her ribs. “Right, I forgot.”
“What happened?”
“I got punched really hard. We should go. That guard will awaken soon.”
Oh, yeah, the guard. She lies on the ground a couple feet from Thorne, face down. “I thought you killed her.”
“Hmm? No. I knocked her out.” She examines the fine Persian rug decorated with a corpse. “I do not kill unless it is necessary.”
“That’s still gonna leave brain damage, but okay.”
Taylor marches over to the closet, and scoops our duffel bag from partially underneath the body. We arm ourselves—she with a quiver and bow as well as a pistol with a long silencer, and she straps an assault rifle around my back, and secures a pistol around my calf.
She hops over the fire escape and jumps down to the next level, then descends the ladder. Using the fire escape in a normal way, with stairs, I land next to her on the sidewalk. When she flips open her watch, it projects a screen on the asphalt at our feet. It’s not holographic like the one in Lady Leather’s office, but instead a 2D map of green outlined streets with red dots moving in between them on a gray, fuzzy background. Our position blinks in twin green dots, and through a maze of ruined streets, another green dot. Mason. Since the entire neighborhood is in rough shape it should be easy to traverse between the buildingsand avoid the main streets where the officers will patrol and look for us.
“We are going to fight our way through about a mile of city blocks.” She snaps her watch closed. “You should have gone with Mason.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure, and leave you up there to get caught with the corpse of a region leader, covered in his blood like a psycho.”
Taylor gives herself a once-over and looks up. “Get caught?” she repeats, offended. “I was fine. I am fine. I asked you to get into the van. Why is it impossible for you to do what you are told?”
“I don’t know. Must’ve been the way I was raised. Maybe you can ask my father before you brutally beathimto death. Besides, do you think Lady Leather is going to care if I end up dead? She doesn’t care about me. The Order doesn’t care about me. You don’t care about me. I’ve never been more than collateral, to you or to her.”
Taylor stalks forward, forcing me to step backward in tandem. “You think you’re collateral?”
“Oh no. I’m not collateral, I’m bait, how could I forget? Bait for my father, bait for Thorne. Bait for whatever disgusting man you want to throw me at.” The dreadful silence that falls between us, coupled with the look in her eyes like I’ve slapped her in the face, makes my stomach churn. But not enough to stop. “You only care if I live because I’m still useful, isn’t that right? That’s what your little girlfriend told me—you only care about someone when they’re useful to you. Did you throw her under Thorne too?”
Taylor advances on me and shoves me against the brick wall, pinning me there with her forearm across my chest. She’s so close, I can’t tell if she wants to kiss me or punch me. Anger is funny that way. “I do not have the time to stop and stroke yourego every time you feel insecure, Miss Piccolo. I offered you the choice and you took it.”
“Yes, based on the fact that I thought you were looking out for me! Instead, you told Thorne to kill me.” My eyes narrow in anger, but my voice is broken. “You had your shot and you told him to kill me.”
“What if I missed? You think I would let something happen to you? If so, you are quite dense.”
“I’m not dense, Taylor, I’m scared! You didn’t show up for so long, and he was gonna—” I glance away. “You made it clear in there what I am to you.”
“Did I?” The chilling voice she uses has the same effect on me as it did on Thorne. I gulp. Any anger in her expression is swept away by agitation. “It was a distraction. One would think the daughter of a region leader, with your fancy education, might have more sense.”
“Not all of us can be raised by a megalomaniac and groomed into an emotionally stunted murderer.”
“No, some of us are coddled by a megalomaniac and groomed into an emotionally volatile narcissist.”
Hurtful, but impressive. I turn my hurt outward. “Pardon me for actually having parents to coddle me, instead of leaving me in the woods to die.”
What follows is the most worrisome silence I’ve ever endured. Of all the barbs and insults we’ve thrown each other’s way, I finally managed to hurt her feelings. To make matters worse, she doesn’t fight back. She wipes the devastation and hurt from her face, and forcibly turns me around to zip me into my dress. When she slides her jacket off and hands it to me, I offer no resistance and put it on.
“Let’s go.”
“Taylor—”
