“No thanks,” Gus snapped.
His husky chuckle followed her.“I’ll see you later, Pityrodia.”
“No, you won’t,” Gus muttered under her breath.
After this incident was settled, she was taking herself on a nice, long journey.Somewhere far away that was difficult to get to.Far off the beaten path.In fact, the more isolated the better.She wanted a place no one in their right mind would visit.
Eleven
SinceGus’sultimateobjectivewas to get caught by the people hunting her, she decided it was worth the effort to make the climb back up to the government district rather than leaving the tree via one of the other decks.
Since going up was always harder and more time consuming than a descent, Gus was out of breath and sweating slightly by the time she reached deck nineteen.During the climb, her cloak had managed to acquire its own collection of bark, dirt, and leaves, leaving her looking like something dragged backwards through a briar patch as she crossed the sheer drop of the station’s spine.
Gus resisted the urge to tidy up her appearance as she stepped off her branch and back onto deck nineteen.Already aware of what was waiting for her there.
“So it begins,” Gus murmured, pulling her cloak closer to her body before making sure her hood was properly raised.The mistakes made with Ryan would not be repeated.
Gus eyed the trees for the presences she sensed hiding among them.“You might as well come out.I know you’re there.”
Once again, her siblings had underestimated her.
They didn’t even possess the decency to aim the knife for her back.They went for a full frontal attack.That was how little respect they held for her and her abilities.That was saying something considering the amount of Gus’skicurrently saturating the very park they stood in.Accumulated over years of tending these gardens.
It wasn’t just insulting.It was breathtakingly arrogant.
Then again, arrogance had always been her siblings’ defining trait.
“We hadn’t thought you possessed the level of capability to realize you were being followed.”
It took a second for Gus to pinpoint the speaker’s location.
“I didn’t think it would be you,” Gus said, feeling oddly wistful as she stared at the man partially obscured by the pocket of shadows cast by a pair of trees.She’d always considered Mars to be the quiet, unassuming sort.Kind of like her but more accepted.Not the sort to prey on his siblings.
Gus scanned him carefully, wondering if she’d somehow gotten this wrong.
But nope.That was definitely Mars.No one else had hair like his.Black at the roots before fading into pure white at the tips.
It hadn’t always been that way.Gus remembered a time when his hair was only one color.Of late, however, it seemed like that white climbed a little higher into his locks every time they met.As if something was leaching the color from his edges.
Mars wasn’t as muscular as some of their siblings.Pallas, for instance, would seem like a tank in comparison.But he was imposing enough to be considered a threat by most.
Not Gus.But others.
Losing interest in Mars, Gus cut her eyes to his partner.“You, on the other hand…”
It didn’t surprise her at all to find that Cleo was the other traitor.The woman had always given off that feeling.Like she was biding her time until a better offer came along.
Given her lack of morals and inability to process emotions like loyalty or regret, it wasn’t a far jump to betrayal.
Gus was just surprised it hadn’t come earlier.
Cleo met her gaze calmly, her expression as tranquil and undisturbed as a still pool of water.Nary a ripple of emotion or thought.Just a living statue, untouched by the feelings infecting the rest of them.
Like Mars, her sister was someone who stood out.Appearance-wise anyway.The unnatural yellow of her eyes paired with the patch of scales that had been grafted onto her cheek would draw questions no matter where she went.The kind of questions the forty-three would be loath to answer.For that reason, Cleo, and those of the forty three who like her were unable to blend, spent the majority of their lives largely in isolation.They drifted on the fringes of society.Never fully part of it.
“Are those to be your last words?”Cleo asked in a voice as robotic and emotionally detached as the rest of her.
“What would you prefer?Should I beg and plead?Would you spare my life if I did?”
