I stopped walking so I could stare at him. “I told you. He. Tortures. Me.”
Ruck shoved one hand in his pocket and raised the other to take a bite out of the cuticle on his thumb. He wanted to disagree with the torture statement but didn’t out of fear. He too knew this script by heart.
“Do you see me?” I jerked a thumb toward my chest, daring him to defend Ryker again.
He chewed on another cuticle.
Finally, he shrugged. “Today does look to be worse than normal.”
I turned and headed toward the showers again.
He walked beside me for a couple of minutes before speaking. “I’m not defending him, but—”
“That’s what people say right before they defend someone.” How had I foolishly thought I’d gotten my point across the last fourteen times?
“I think he means well.”
“He doesn’t mean well. He’s just plain mean. He’s a sadist. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping right now before your shift?” Ruck worked the late shift on the third watchtower. We usually had breakfast together, and sometimes lunch when I wasn’t being tortured. Most nights he was already on duty during dinner.
I stepped inside the shower house, Ruck still following. Broc, a friendly but odd little fellow who worked the supply stand, handed me a new soap ration and a rag to dry with. He made a checkmark next to my name, refraining from commenting on my appearance, even as he leaned closer to take it all in.
“Ben needed to switch shifts. Wanted to see if you were coming to get dinner?” Ruck said, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“Course I am. I’ll meet you over there in a couple minutes.”
The corner of Ruck’s mouth turned up. He gave me a nod and headed over to the food building.
Ruck and I ate with each other whenever we could, but we didn’t get to eat dinner together. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was. Life had changed gears a lot faster than either of us had expected. We’d been plodding along, getting by and keeping our heads down. We’d tried to keep a low profile that wouldn’t draw too much attention, and somehow we’d still ended up here. Sometimes it seemed like we were skidding out of control, trying to grab on to the only constants we had left, which seemed smaller in number every day as the people around us disappeared.
Tiger was the first of our crew we’d lost. He’d been the easiest, though, since it was his choice. He’d left, but I knew he was out there living life somewhere else, doing his thing. Maybe one day I’d even see him again. Fetch had left last week. He’d said he didn’t want to wait around for Bedlam to come kill us all. He said he’d be heading east and would send word when he settled somewhere. Part of me was happy he’d left.
Sinsy was the hard one. Death was never easy, but hers left an ache that swelled so strong I thought my chest would crack open sometimes. I never knew when the pain would hit, either. I’d see a funny scene and want to turn and tell her. I’d have a bad day I’d need to share and I’d be talking into the wind. I’d turn to my side out of habit, expecting to see her before I’d remember she wasn’t there and never would be again. Losing her seemed like a wound that would never fully heal.
Then there was Marra… But I wouldn’t think about her. It was too much.
Almost every seat was taken in the food building, and the place buzzed with life and sounds of people sharing their day. I grabbed a plate and got in line, paying little attention to what was being served—some sloppy shredded meat of unknown origin—and scanned the room for one particular table in the corner. That same spot drew my eye every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. No matter how many times I told myself not to look, I’d do it anyway.
Marra was there as usual, sitting with her new friends, her Bugs and Ruck replacements. As always, I kept my eyes moving, taking in the situation and looking elsewhere before she noticed.
This loss had happened suddenly. One morning I’d gotten here late and she’d been sitting at a different table, with different people. She’d been leaning over, listening to what the brunette sitting in front of her was saying, looking serious. I’d carried my plate over to her, thinking she wanted to change up where we sat. When I’d gotten closer, instead of pulling out the empty chair next to her, she’d shoved it in more. I’d stood there, plate in hand, and she’d turned away, silently dismissing me.
I’d stood there for a few minutes, looking like a fool. I’d called her name several times, as if somehow she hadn’t realized what she was doing. She never acknowledged it. I’d finally walked back to the usual table and sat down. It soon became clear she wasn’t speaking to anyone that had been with Sinsy when she’d died.
For a few days, even a week after, I kept expecting her to snap out of it. I’d stare openly at her, waiting for something. She’d glance over, without a smile or tilt of her head, as if there were nothing but air where I stood, a blank look upon her face.
It had been three and a half weeks since Sinsy, Marra’s sister, had died, and three weeks since we’d gotten back from Bedlam. Maybe this was normal. She was grieving. Who wouldn’t need their space after finding out your sister had been ripped to pieces by a crazed horde of chewers?
It wasn’t like she was blaming us, though. She hadn’t indicated that she was, and even being mute, she’d always gotten her points across. Even if she did blame us, if that was what she needed, I could handle it. She could hate me if it made it easier. In a few months, or a year, she’d start to miss us and everything would go back to normal.
I grabbed the last biscuit and walked over to the table where Ruck, Burn, and Sneak were already sitting. Ryker happened to be there as well. I’d tolerate his presence because he seemed to think it was his table too, and I was going to eat with my friend. There was always a give-and-take in life.
I put my plate down beside Ruck, ignoring that Ryker was sitting in front of me.
“I don’t know why you waste your time with her,” Ryker said, indicating Marra.
He spoke as if we were friends and this was open to discussion. As if I didn’t want to take my fork and stab him. Right. Now. In the eyeball. Repeatedly.
We weren’t friends, not even close, and wouldn’t be with the way he’d been acting lately. I chewed on some mystery meat, pretending he wasn’t across the table from me speaking.
Ryker lifted his fork and waved it in my general vicinity. “Should I take the silence to mean you’re upset with me?”
There was the slightest lift at the corners of his mouth. He tormented me all day and then he thought he could tease me? This was my life now?
“Why would I possibly be upset with you?” I asked. “I understand what you’re doing, that you’re still bitter that I was able to get one over on you and raid your chuggers. After all, everyone thinks you’re the mighty Ryker, and little old Bugs was able to break all your wards.” I took a couple bites of meat, telling myself to not address the Marra comment. I quickly lost the fight with myself. “And for the record, Marra needs a little time, is all. She lost her sister.”
“She’s going to need more than time soon,” he said, glancing over at her table.
“What’s that mean?” I asked, succumbing to my curiosity.
“Nothing.” He turned back to me, and for a second he didn’t look like an evil bastard. Then the gleam in his eye returned. He leaned forward, smiling. “Too bad you couldn’t break the spell on the mud as well as you break wards. Although you were oh so good at flopping around in it.”
If I was gripping my fork like an instrument of violence, it was completely incidental. I wouldn’t really stab him with it. I’d switch to the knife. Much more efficient.
“Don’t confuse me with Tatia. Do that to me again and you’ll find out the difference.” Tatia was the latest girl I’d seen exiting his room in the constant parade that came and went. Word was she used to mud-wrestle for a traveling sideshow.
“I didn’t realize you’d been keeping tabs on me.” His eyes narrowed but didn’t lose the amusement danc
ing in them.
Damn, it was hot in here. Someone needed to shut down those ovens. It was definitely the ovens, too. It wasn’t like I’d gotten caught spying on him. It had been an accident. His place was centrally located. I had to walk by it no matter where I was headed. Still, better to not even admit that much. He’d never believe it with the size of his ego. “Of course I’m not. People talk.”
“And you seem to listen very attentively.”
“Hard not to when there’s so much to talk about. You certainly give them plenty.” It was surprising the trail of women in and out of his place hadn’t worn the ground down into a crater. In and out. I hadn’t realized how many single women lived here, and Ryker certainly liked variety.
I stared, daring him to say different. He stared back, not bothering to deny anything as tingles of magic swirled, making the air thick. Even though there was a table between us and we were in one of the largest buildings in the Valley, it was still too close. His magic had a way of picking me out for its attention and then needling me.
He acted as if he didn’t do it on purpose, but no way was it accidental. I knew Burn and Sneak felt it, but they’d side with Ryker if I called them out. The only one at the table that would’ve been honest was Ruck, and he was a dull. Dulls didn’t feel magic. Craziest thing I’d ever heard, but it was true.
A chair scraped the floor and Sneak cleared his throat.
“When are Knife and his people getting here?” Burn asked, sounding very off.
Wait a second. Why did the name Knife sound familiar?
“Within the next few days,” Ryker said, shifting his attention away from me, the magic calming a hair.
“How many people are coming?” Sneak asked.
“As many as he can spare,” Ryker answered.
The magic was almost back to pre-argument levels as I focused my attention on Burn.
“Who’s Knife and why is he coming here?” I should’ve asked Ryker, but I’d rather have hazy details from someone I could tolerate than the man who made me crawl around in mud all day.
“Knife Dorley. You must’ve heard of Dorley? It’s not that far from here and even closer to the Ruined City,” Burn said. “He’s bringing reinforcements in case Bedlam decides to retaliate. Dorley has an ugly past with Bedlam, so they’re eager to help.”
Dorley. How many chuggers had we hijacked that were headed there? I was glad I’d finished swallowing my food, or I might’ve been in dire straits as my throat closed. Ruck wasn’t so lucky, and choked beside me. Sneak gave him a pound to his back.
I kicked Ruck under the table before he got enough air in his lungs to speak. Didn’t matter. His red choking-on-the-truth face already spilled the beans, if there were any beans left in the can.
“Oh, she knows Dorley well.” Ryker leaned back in his seat and took the same approach I had. He didn’t ask me anything. He narrowed his eyes on Ruck. “How many chuggers did you raid that were filled with Dorley supplies?”
Chuggers, the trucks that had two purposes: haul goods from one country to another, and feed my crew when times were lean. It was unfortunate that there’d been a lot of lean times. When you were starving, you did what you had to. I’d like to see what these well-fed men would do if they were starving.
“None,” I answered before Mr. Blow Our Cover could. Hypothetically, it might’ve been ten. It didn’t matter, as that couldn’t be proven. Plus, it was long past the time worth thinking about. A half a year was an eternity. A lifetime ago. Several lifetimes, even.
The magic flowed again. This time I couldn’t tell if it was his, mine, or some strange combination of the two. Cool eyes warmed, and I knew he was feeling it too.
“You do realize some of those chuggers you hijacked originated here?” He slowly tapped his pointer finger on the table.
“Then why’d you ask?”
“To see if you’re ever going to stop lying to me,” he said.
He watched me as if surprised I wasn’t an open book. Why he thought I should trust him might’ve been written down in someone’s book, but not mine. We’d been in a few tough spots together, but the worst of them had been by his doing. That didn’t instill great loyalty.
“You have all the answers anyway. Why do you need me to tell you anything? I’m just a thief, right?”
He hadn’t called me that in a long while. Even hearing the word was like a thorn sticking in tender flesh. I wasn’t sure why I’d said it other than the suspicion he was still angry with me for something. Another reason not to trust him.
Ryker’s mouth flattened as if I’d called him the thief. His eyes narrowed, cool blue throwing off so much heat he could’ve melted an iceberg. He shifted in his seat, leaning slightly to the side but never relenting in his stare. “Don’t use that word.”
I heard a couple chairs scraping and knew we were about to clear out the table with the magic churning between us. It was like one and one didn’t add to two when we were close. We multiplied to ten or something. And times like this? When we fought? It nearly exploded.
I used to think I was the only one who felt it, but lately I’d noticed the effect we had on everyone around us. Burn pulled at the neck of his shirt. Sneak was breaking a sweat. Had it always been this strong, or was it growing? It felt worse, at least to me.
“Why? You use it all the time.”
“Used.”
I leaned forward, ignoring the wave of magic that made my skin so sensitive I wanted to tear my clothes off. “You basically called me that a minute ago. You implied. I said the word. What’s the difference?”
“I was teasing. Big difference.”
“Let me make sure my feeble brain understands. You’re allowed to insult me but I’m not?” The list of crazy rules Ryker had only grew longer with each day I knew him.
“Yes,” he said with utmost confidence.
It was ludicrous, but I was realizing Ryker didn’t always do the most predictable things. He was plain crazy sometimes. I guess that was what happened when you were the Cursed King. Maybe all that magic pulsating in your blood drove you nuts after a while?
We stared each other down. Whether I could call myself a thief was a ridiculous fight, but I still wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t about that. I was tired of taking shit from him, and if this was the hill I had to die on to assert myself, so be it. Dig me a grave now, because I was going down.
He leaned over a little farther on the arm of his chair, signaling that he wasn’t giving up this fight either. It might’ve looked like a staring contest, but it went deeper than that. It was more about who could handle the building magic between us, the heat it threw off.
“You’re about to clear the place out. Even the dulls are starting to feel it,” Sneak said. It was a last-ditch effort to break the building tide of magic that was about to smother our table. I knew Burn and Sneak felt it, but the dulls did too?
My gaze flickered off Ryker’s for a second, to check out Ruck, who was looking over at Sneak. “What are you talking about? I don’t feel anything.”
That damn Sneak faked me out. I snapped my gaze back to Ryker’s, quick as a rabbit, but I was too late. The magic had ebbed, and he was already gloating.
“Don’t you smile. It was less than a second. Less than half a second. That wasn’t a win. I was tricked.”
“Oh, that was most definitely a win.”
Ruck looked up from his now-empty plate. “What was a win? Sometimes I have no idea what you two are talking about.”
I would’ve explained, but the whole thing was too embarrassing to repeat.
3
I dug my hand into the dirt moistened by the morning dew and then stopped myself before I made a significant hole. I wasn’t worming it. I didn’t need any more conflict, even internal. I couldn’t leave this place, and so what was the point in asking the worm if I should go? It was official. My worming days were over until I had a better question to ask.
I didn’t know why it had told me to leave anyway. Bott
om line was that I couldn’t, not until Ryker negotiated with the Debt Collector. He said he’d help me even if I left, but it wasn’t like I could trust him. It was like my entire life was wallowing in that soul-sucking mud from practice.
I stood, eyes not leaving the dirt. I squatted back down. I hadn’t wormed for two whole days. Even worms deserved the right to redemption, didn’t they? Wasn’t two days enough protest for them to get the message and give me a logical answer that made sense?
I dug into the ground with commitment and found a plump little sucker. The plump ones were good. They’d have the extra nutrients they’d need to steer toward the right answer.
I cupped my hands, whispering my question. “Should I stay or go?”
I laid it down gently, not wanting to jar its body into confusion that could cause an error. It wiggled its way a finger’s length toward the wrong answer. I picked it up before it could make a gigantic mistake.
“I see what you’re about to do, and you better think long and hard before you do it. Knee-jerk reactions lead to epic regrets, you little sucker. You might not think there are repercussions for worms, but I can smush you like the bug you are.”
I gave it a second to absorb the warning and then placed it down again. As soon as it hit the dirt, it wiggled its plump self in the wrong direction, again, as if it knew I was all bluster. I was full of it and it was safe. That wasn’t the surprise. How the worm knew too was a bit of a thinker.
“You’re lucky I’m too tired or I’d really do it.”
I kept watching, thinking it would take a turn at the last second. It didn’t. I stood, a ragged sigh dragging from my chest as I slumped.
“Why do I ask? You know nothing.” I leaned over. “I can’t leave. I’ll be dead. Not to mention I lost a challenge I’m still bound by. Did you forget that when you were crawling your way to the wrong answer?”
The worm disappeared into the dirt, giving me a final wiggle of its backside.
Ruck walked over and stood beside me. I wasn’t surprised he was up this early. One, his schedule was all out of whack from the late shift, and two, neither of us had slept very well since Sinsy.
Full Blood (Wyrd Blood Book 2) Page 2
