This morning, I allowed her amusement and joy into my mind. Then her soul-crushing grief had slammed into the small barrier like a battering ram. Her emotions had taken over, clawed into the deepest recesses of my mind, and dredged up memories.
Etan’s face had flashed into view.
My surroundings had shifted to pools of blood and begging.
My shadows were seconds away from ripping free and attacking my Dreads when the hellion had collided with me. Her voice and presence had grounded me, dragging me out of the past. Ironic, really.
She was my poison and my cure.
I wanted to drown in her but feared the consequences. My constant inner conflict frustrated me to no end. Even so, she wanted nothing to do with me, her squad, or training. I understood. But the hellion didn’t have the luxury to hide in her room and grieve. She needed the skills to survive against any threat—including the guardian bond.
And her squad needed a leader. She may not be ready, but Hell didn’t care.
Pain and suffering. That was our doctrine. We hid behind the label of military, but we weren’t built for war. We forged warriors, but not a unified front. The Redemption Circle was just another circle that orchestrated punishment through labels and controlled violence. The majority of our military held little love for each other. How could they when they were all out for themselves? Few understood the purpose of our circle. Few souls were redeemed. They never understood it was all a test.
I strode toward the arena to meet up with my Dreads. Most of them were on the dais, waiting for me. Along with one I didn’t remember approving to be anywhere near our military.
The pet stood next to MJ, looking like a lost Soulhound in need of a leash.
Cracking my thumbs, I kept my hands by my sides, well away from my Soul Swords, with my mask firmly in place. Reaction reflected weakness, and weakness was deadly here.
“Xavier, report,” I ordered once on the wooden platform.
He rubbed his dark, bald head. “Same story, General. We found nothing in the Eternal Forest, nor Hoar Hollow. But our efforts were hindered by the blizzard.”
Lucifer and his emotions were determined to make this difficult for us.
“We’ll check through Hoar Hollow again today, then scour the Veil Forest.”
“What else?” I asked, noting his fidgeting.
“Cecilee didn’t come back.”
“How? You go in groups.”
“She was with Ridigar. He came back. She didn’t.”
Slowly, I shifted my attention to Ridigar.
He held up his hands. “She said she wanted to check on her daughter. I followed her to her home, then left.”
“Left?” My shadows snaked around his neck, squeezing. “You are not authorized to search for the infected alone.”
Ridigar clawed at his neck, his fingers failing to hold my shadows. “I didn’t. I came straight back here,” he spat weakly.
“And you left Cecilee.”
“I waited for her. But the—” He wheezed. “Snowstorm. She was—” He choked. I let him. He was a soul. He wouldn’t die from strangulation. “Safe in her home,” he finally managed to say.
I was curious as to why he had to wait at all. Cecilee was protective of her daughter, but checking on her in the middle of a mission for more than a few minutes seemed out of character.
“You didn’t think to knock on her door or follow her inside?”
“I don’t—do—touchy-feely shit. Figured she’d—come back—when she wanted.”
“In the middle of a mission?”
“Yes.” He glared at me as if to say it wasn’t his fault Cecilee didn’t follow orders. It wasn’t. Still, I had half a mind to sever his head for his attitude.
