by B D Grant
“I hit you in the mouth?”
He nods, looking at the red on his fingertips. The pain doesn’t reach his eyes. I know he’s faking, but I sympathetically pat his arm anyways.
Kemma is no longer in the room, but her ability is still filling the space with peace. Detectives Susan and the other detective, I realize, are in the room now just inside of the door. Both are frowning as they evaluate the state of the room. Ash, isn’t that what Bryant called the detective in Baton Rouge? Uncle Will is behind them just outside of the doorframe, standing on his toes to see over Ash’s shoulder looking into the room. With how tight he’s holding his mouth, he looks only slightly less aggravated than the detectives by what he’s seeing. None of them say anything though. I chalk it up to Kemma’s ability still lightly working on the room.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him. I mean it, but I can’t quite meet his eyes.
He smiles. “No big deal. You hit like a girl.” I try not to stare at the lump forming on his lip.
“A girl that can make an Elite bleed,” Mom says so quietly that I almost miss it. I catch a hint of pride in her face, although she tries to look somber. Dad takes a napkin out of his pocket to offer to Kelly.
As Kelly wipes his mouth, Detective Susan crosses her arms across her chest. “How about we leave the walls standing.” Detective Ash chuckles glancing over at her but she doesn’t notice so he turns back to us. “Time to go,” he says, waving us out of the room. I take a step from Kelly.
Uncle Will steps out of the way for the detectives to walk out. My dad takes him by the arm as he walks out behind the detectives. “Did you see how well your niece can throw a punch?”
Uncle Will looks at him as they step into the hall. “You’re proud of that?”
“He’s twice her size. Of course I am.”
Mom and Jake are right behind them. She wraps an arm around Jake’s waist as they head out the door. When he looks over at her, she plants a kiss on his cheek.
“Hey,” I say to Kelly softly as we walk out behind them. “Why did you ask about the death penalty earlier?”
Kelly watches everyone in front of us. I look at him. He watches everyone a moment longer before his eyes meet mine. “You think my uncle should die for his part in the raid?” The words stick in my throat.
“No. For me.” His voice is toneless. “For what I did when I was…” he trails off.
I stare at the back of my mom. “There’s no way they’re worried about you. They have actual Rogues to prosecute.”
Kelly glances at me, his eyebrows knit together. “I did stuff way worse than plenty of Rogues.” When I don’t respond, he lowers his voice. “I hunted people down, Taylor. I did it for The Movement.”
“And so did Jake,” I whisper back, looking toward the door although he’s out of sight. “ But if the Council was worried about either of you being actual Rogues than they wouldn’t be letting you walk around free.”
I don’t say it, but I think about whoever killed Uncle Chuck and Aunt Beth. If anyone deserves to be hunted down…I think of Kelly’s friend Anne, and I wonder where the Council is keeping the woman who killed her. That’s the only Rogue whose face I know. I don’t know the others, but I’m forming a list nonetheless. Jake’s parents, my old neighbor and his brother, the Seraphim who didn’t make it out of the basement, all of those kids whose bodies littered their own campus, and all those who died trying to free them from The Movement…Each person responsible for their deaths should have to face what they did. So many deserve a fate worse than death.
This is it, I think to myself. The Supreme Council is finally going to deliver the justice we so badly need for the crimes that have been committed, and by that I mean those who truly disserve it.
Kelly lets me go first, stepping out of the room and into the hallway. Not being stopped by detectives this go around, it’s a quicker walk out of the hallway and into the waiting area than it was coming in. When we get out into the waiting area on the first floor, Mom slows keeping Jake with her. She turns lifting her free arm towards me, and I gratefully step into her embrace. I look down at her belly as our tiny band of survivors continues on toward the parking lot. It’s barely noticeable. But I know you’re there, I say in my head. There will be no Elites or Rogues for you, little one. I look up before Mom can notice, but I continue the mantra in my head. No Elites, no Rogues, and no Movement.
THE END
Thank you for reading the second book in A Seraphim Series, The Perfect Soldier. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.
Please leave me a review and let me know what your favorite parts were in the novel.
Thank you,
B. D. Grant
A Place Worth Living - Leave a review
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