“I know I don’t,” I answer lightly. “But what can I say, the asshole has grown on me.”
“All right, then. Finish your meal and I’ll take you to the cells.”
Red Threat
Name:Xavier Ford
Rank:2nd Lieutenant
Ward:Sanctum Point
Status:Prime
Last Known Location:Sanctum Point
Wanted For:
Treason, desertion
Aiding and abetting an Aberrant
Additional Details:
Year of Birth:3 NE
Age:22
Caution:
Suspect is a highly trained officer. Former Silver Elite operative.
Action:
Kill on sight.
Chapter 3
The Command stockade comprised an entire wing of their base, offering dozens of cells. The Dagger, I’m told, has only three, and Kallister explains that the Uprising implements a zero-tolerance policy. Low crimes, like theft, insubordination, or repeated brawling, result in exile back to the wards. You screw up enough times, you’re out, but apparently, low crimes are rare. Not many Mods want to risk being sent back to the wards.
High crimes, he tells me, are the ones you can’t come back from. Murder. Rape. Treason. Commit one of those, and you forfeit more than your place in the network. You forfeit your life.
“Do they at least get a trial?” I ask with a frown. “An opportunity to explain any extenuating circumstances?”
“Of course. But if they’re found guilty, they die.”
I wince. “Isn’t that barbaric?”
“We don’t have the resources to waste on murderers and rapists.” He gives me a sidelong look. “And be honest with me—would you want to continue living in an isolated mountain with the person who raped you? With someone who killed someone close to you?”
I let that sink in, slowly shaking my head. “No. I wouldn’t.”
He guides me down a corridor that seems to penetrate deeper anddeeper into the mountain. We pass through a small, brightly lit holding room, where a dark-haired female guard sits behind a desk, her presence the only sign of life in the otherwise silent space. Kallister greets her with a nod, then scans his print at the metal door near her desk.
“The cells are down here,” he tells me.
Beyond the door, the lighting isn’t bright anymore. Iron sconces flicker weakly along the walls, casting uneven shadows on the rough surfaces. Three cells line the short corridor. Each one has a hard-packed dirt floor and steel bars embedded into the rock and cement walls. Two of them are empty, but the third reveals a lone figure sitting on the floor rather than on the bed or the bench against the wall. His long legs stretch out in front of him, head bent. He looks up at the sound of our footsteps but remains seated.
I don’t miss his relief when Xavier’s gaze meets mine. He was afraid they’d done something to me. I find it sort of sweet that he cares. Like he’s seeing me as more than just his best friend’s girl now, as someone he considers a friend.
