Inamorato

by Keira Michelle Telford

  Ella, holding Pryor’s knife against his flesh, leans over him from behind. “Touch her and you die, asshole.”

  He raises both hands into the air and surrenders. “Easy, Prodigy. We’re just having some fun.”

  She lets him get up off the floor, making sure to keep herself between him and Pryor.

  “Fun like you were having when you set the Chimera loose?”

  “Nice try,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you did it.”

  “For what reason?”

  “So that you could help the Hunter Division clean up. Convenient, no? A perfect opportunity to suck up before sending in your internship application.”

  “That’s such a load of shit.”

  Parker shrugs. “There are eye witnesses.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I saw you do it, Prodigy. My formal statement to the Commissioner will state as much.”

  “That’s a downright lie.”

  “Do you think it matters?”

  “It’ll be your word against mine.”

  “And hers.” He points across the room.

  Tipper Jynx.

  She grabs a random book off one of the shelves, spits her gum into the middle of it and snaps it shut, trapping it there for all eternity.

  “Two witnesses can place you at the scene of the crime,” she sneers at Ella. “You can’t compete with that.”

  Ella squares up to her. “Why are you doing this?”

  “You sent a Hunter to shake me up, you arrogant bitch.”

  “He acted alone.”

  “On behalf of the Hunter General, no doubt.”

  “My papa had nothing to do with this,” she growls. “He never even saw your stupid video.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Enough people did, and their testimony will prove that you knew about the Belt fights.”

  “They won’t speak for you.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  “A confession trumps hearsay.” Pryor takes her knife back from Ella. “Then this whole mess will be over with.”

  Tipper rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to confess, Pryor. You’d be expelled.”

  “Shit happens.”

  Ella glares at Pryor. “You—?”

  Pryor preempts her question and shakes her head, refuting the accusation before it even hits the air. “No, but if I say I did, this will all end today.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I owe you one, don’t I?”

  “Not at the cost of your expulsion from the Academy.”

  “It’s you or me, Prodigy. Someone has to go down for this, and I’ve recently been reminded that I’ve got much less to lose.”

  A Police Division agent breaches the library’s threshold and calls out for Ella Cross—the first name on the suspect list. Ella starts to walk toward him, but Pryor pushes in front of her.

  Ella tries to hold her back. “Wait. Did a Hunter tell you to do this?”

  “What difference does it make?” Pryor shakes herself free.

  “I don’t need other people to defend me.”

  “Today, you do.”

  “What did he offer you?”

  “Ask him yourself.”

  *************************

  On the tallest building overlooking the city fortifications, Ella takes the fire escape stairs and heads up onto the roof.

  She’s been here before.

  The fortification separating the Sentinel District from the partially reclaimed Second Reclamation Territory beyond it consists of a titanium wall, wired with motion detectors and CCTV cameras. At nearly fifty feet high, the titanium shield is impenetrable by Chimera. Any movement that’s recorded near the wall triggers an unmanned robotic device on the other side. This device, PAX—Perimeter Armament Device V.10—is equipped with a military precision electrolaser, and when it’s directed toward a target by the CCTV surveillance system, PAX can disable a Chimera in less than three seconds.

  Once it’s locked onto a target, PAX emits a laser that ionizes the atmospheric gases in its path and generates a plasma channel, down which it sends a lethal electrical current. Though this technology is too bulky for the Hunter Division to utilize in battle, it makes an almost perfect sentry weapon.

  Atop the building, Ella retrieves an old workman’s ladder from a disused maintenance room, and uses it to bridge the gap between the roof of the building and the Sentinel District wall. Stepping carefully, she navigates her way across the ladder, facing certain death if she falls. At the wall—which is only eight inches wide—Ella crouches beside a CCTV turret and looks out into the world beyond her confined reality.

  In the distance, the Hunter Division works tirelessly to reclaim more of the Second Reclamation Territory, and the air is thick with gun smoke and fire. She yearns for that sense of freedom: the power to control her environment. Disrupting her thoughts, her cell phone beeps.

  It’s Alex.

  HOW DID IT GO TODAY?

  Ella considers how to answer that. Is he fishing to find out whether or not Jax stuck to her end of the bargain?

  Hmm.

  Slightly—albeit unreasonably—irritated that he’s twice now taken it upon himself to meddle in her affairs, she decides not to give him the satisfaction of a direct answer.

  NOT LIKE I EXPECTED.

  Below her, a stray Chimera has found its way to the city wall in search of food. Catching the scent of her on the breeze, it paws at the wall, raising its nose high into the air.

  One of the CCTV cameras eyeballs it, and it’s not long before a PAX robot trundles its way over to the unwelcome animal, its weapon already primed.

  Target acquired, PAX emits the laser and the animal screams. Its muscles going into spasm, the creature falls to the ground. Unable to run—or even to stand—it twitches and writhes upon the ground, urinating all over itself before it dies.

  Another text message.

  Luka.

  WE NEED TO TALK.

  He’s right. Ella thinks back to their last encounter and cringes. Knowing that it can’t be avoided, she instructs him to meet her at home. While her papa is at work, they can have the whole apartment to themselves, and it can be as awkward as it needs to be.

  It takes her thirty minutes to get there, and Luka is already waiting for her outside. As she approaches, he presents her with an ugly bunch of flowers.

  “I didn’t know what kind you liked.”

  “Umm … thanks.” Ella hates flowers, but she takes them anyway.

  She lets them both inside and ushers him toward the couch, quietly discarding the flowers on a side table.

  “Look, Luka, I—”

  “I’m sorry I called you a whore,” he butts in. “I didn’t mean it. After all, it’s impossible for you to be a whore because you don’t put out.”

  She punches him in the arm with her good hand. “Stop being a jackass.”

  “I really like you, Ella.” Suddenly quite nervous, he fidgets with his hands. “A lot.”

  She looks down at her feet. “I know.”

  “Do you feel the same about me?”

  “I …” Ella stumbles over words that should be on the tip of her tongue.

  “I think we get along great.”

  “We do, Luka. That’s not the problem.”

  “Then what is?”

  A Hunter, she thinks. She doesn’t say it.

  “I don’t think I’m ready.”

  “Geez, El. If that’s all it is, if I’m pushing you too fast, I can slow down. I didn’t mean to—”

  Ella holds up her hand to stop him. “No. It’s nothing you’ve done, Luka. I just … it doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “You mean now? Or ever?”

  Ella hates hearing the crack of sadness in his voice. “I don’t—”

  “Oh, holy crap. Are you ending things with me?” Luka seems genuinely stunned.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I’m sorry.
”

  Luka gets up off the couch and tries to settle himself, not wanting Ella to see him upset.

  “You know what? Don’t even worry about it. It’s fine.” He heads for the door. “I’m okay.”

  “Luka …” Ella tries to draw him back.

  “No, El. If we’re done, then we’re done. I don’t wanna do all that in between crap. I’m not interested in being your booty call, or your casual fling. We’re either in it, or we’re not. And if we’re not—if you’re not—then … there’s no point dragging it out.” He opens the front door and lingers there for a moment. “I’ll come by for my stuff some other time.”

  He leaves without even looking back over his shoulder.

  Ella feels both relieved and shitty. She spends the rest of the day in bed, her thoughts bouncing from Luka to Alex and back again. Listening to the music player that Alex gave her, time blurs and darkness falls and she doesn’t even notice. Later that night, when Maydevine checks on her in her room—to make sure that she actually is in her room—he finds her sound asleep with the Old World music still looping and repeating in her ears.

  In the morning, well rested, Ella rises before the sun for her usual pre-dawn jog. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she dons running clothes and throws open her drapes to check on the weather.

  Dry and crisp.

  On the window ledge, something catches her eye.

  Five Chimera talons, covered in blood.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Founders Day

  Bored out of her mind, Ella occupies a stool at the far end of the bar in the DDH function hall, observing the room. She’s still a week underage and the bartender refuses to serve her, despite her repeated protests.

  Pouting, she swivels the stool from side to side, leans back against the reclaimed antique bar, and watches her papa approach the Governor on the other side of the room.

  The Governor, Phaeden Rist, is a smarmy, greasy man. Ella finds him utterly repulsive. Whenever he looks at her during their forced interactions, she feels that his eyes linger a little too far south of her own.

  “Creeper,” she mutters to herself, turning away.

  Sporting Hunter Division boots and combat pants, topped with a white dress shirt and a loose black tie, Ella stands out like a sore thumb.

  Underneath the shirt, she wears a tight white tank top. Her shirt unbuttoned from the breast line up, the tank top is visible underneath, and her dog tags are nestled in the ‘v’ of some cleavage that doesn’t often get to make an appearance.

  “This is slightly disappointing, just so you know. I was expecting something far more outrageous.”

  Alex’s voice jolts her out of a daydream.

  In a tailored, gray pinstripe suit, Ella hadn’t even recognized him at first. Up close, he smells of cologne, not war. His fingernails are clean and his hair is well groomed. He even shaved. One hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around a bottle of beer, he keeps a careful distance between them.

  “Did you get my little gift?”

  Ella digs the cleaned talons out her pocket. “Impressive.”

  “I exceeded myself, if I do say so.”

  “Assuming you didn’t cheat and rip them all off the same animal.”

  “Cynic.” He takes a sip of his beer.

  A brunette female in a flaming red cocktail dress approaches them from the side, waltzes right up to Alex, and loops her arm through his without waiting for even the slightest hint of an invitation to do so. Ella clenches her jaw and pockets the talons, looking up at the smiling brunette with all the disdain she can muster.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “This is Celia,” Alex explains. “My girlfriend.”

  Ella’s heart implodes, but she hides it well.

  “You must be Ella Cross.” Celia holds out her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, and that sharp little attitude of yours.”

  Ella allows the shake to occur.

  “Funny. You know precisely who I am, and yet I didn’t even know you existed.”

  “Why would you? I’m not the Hunter General’s daughter.”

  Celia looks down at Ella’s hands, and is openly disgusted by the dry blood beneath her nails. Amused by such fragile sensibilities, Ella spots an opportunity to cause further social discomfort.

  “Don’t worry,” she assures Celia. “It’s not what you think. I just finger-fucked my girlfriend and she’s on the rag.”

  Alex nearly chokes on his beer and tries to hold back a laugh, but fails. Beside him, Celia is not only appalled by Ella’s crude sense of humor, but also at his enjoyment of it.

  “Would you get me a drink, please?” she asks of him, eager to part ways from Ella. “And I need you to come and speak with my boss a while. She’s eager to congratulate you on your promotion.” She turns to Ella. “Excuse us, won’t you?”

  Whipped, Alex makes his apologies to Ella and lets Celia practically drag him away. As they disappear into a sea of people and seat themselves at the other end of the bar, Celia leans in to him and squeezes his arm tight.

  “That vulgar child has such a crush on you.”

  Alex gets the attention of a bartender. “Don’t talk crap.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice. Did you see the way she looked at me? She practically turned green with envy. It was cute.”

  Alex orders their drinks and lets the bartender scan his wrist for payment. “You were rude to her.”

  “Excuse me?” Celia raises both eyebrows at him. “She cursed at me and deliberately tried to upset me.”

  “That’s just the way she is.” Alex tries to downplay it. “She doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  “I have half a mind to speak to the Hunter General about her behavior. It was uncalled for.”

  “Let it go, will you? He’s tough enough on her as it is, and she should be focusing on her internship application, not worrying about social etiquette.”

  “You’re defending her?”

  “I’m putting things into perspective, that’s all. Between the incident in the Belt, and the shooting before that, she’s got more than enough on her plate. The last thing she needs right now is someone else making a complaint against her.”

  Those words come out with just a little too much emotion attached to them, and Celia is more than capable of reading between the lines.

  “I’m sure it must be incredibly flattering to have the Hunter General’s young daughter lusting after you, but don’t let her do this to you.”

  “Do what?”

  “Play you for a fool. I know what girls her age are like, Alex. It’s a race to bed the best Hunter you can get your hands on, and trust me, you’re a big catch.”

  Alex shakes his head. “She could have her pick of anyone in the Division. She’d never choose me for a status fuck.”

  “You’re a second line Commander in your physical prime, and you’re rugged as hell. You are the pick of the Division, and I’ve always known that. Why else do you think I accepted you between my legs so readily?”

  “Call me naïve, but I thought love might’ve had something to do with it.”

  Ignoring that, Celia slides her hand over his thigh. “Promise me you won’t fall for any of her pathetic little games.” She slides her hand up to his crotch and whispers in his ear. “I don’t want to have to write a story for the newspaper about how I had to break up with you because you stuck your dick inside some slutty, manipulative little girl.” She grabs him and squeezes, making him wince. “Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

  Alex clenches his teeth. “I think I got the gist of it, yeah.”

  “Good.” Celia pats him on the shoulder and tugs on his arm. “Now come on.”

  “Where are we going?” he mumbles, suddenly craving a cigarette.

  “My boss, remember?”

  Alex sighs; he doesn’t have the energy to fight with her. He glances toward the other end of the bar, but Ella has vanished.

  He begrudgingly allow
s Celia to direct him through the room, toward a middle-aged woman in an ill-fitting dress. Celia greets the woman with a professional hug and a kiss on the cheek, and encourages Alex to do the same.

  “I was so excited to hear Celia’s news,” the woman beams at him. “Such a fine young man to be wearing the Commander title.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Odd choice of words, he secretly thinks. Surely it’s his news, not Celia’s? The conversation moves on anyway, and Celia loops her arm through his again. It’s been two years, or three, but time seemed to stand still after one.

  Every morning that she wakes up in his apartment, she hints that life would be so much easier if she just moved in, but he has yet to ask and she’s been patient. She’s older than him by four years, and she’s starting to feel the swift approach of thirty. She needs him to marry her soon, and he’s well aware of it.

  He shoves those thoughts to the back of his mind.

  As soon as the conversation turns to facts and figures and readership numbers, and whether or not Celia—one of the newspaper’s top journalists—plans to write a piece on Alex’s promotion for Monday’s edition of the Amaranthe News and Times, Alex begins to drift away somewhere else more pleasant in his head. They move from one social circle to another, from one table to the next, and Alex forces himself through it with beer as his savior.

  Some time later, the world now beginning to take on a somewhat fuzzier appearance, Alex catches sight of Ella heading for the balcony. Without thinking, he gets up to follow her, but Celia grabs him by the elbow and holds him back.

  “Where are you going?”

  Alex taps his chest pocket. “Cigarette break,” he blags, extricating his arm from hers. “I’ll be right back.”

  He presses an unfeeling kiss against the side of her head, makes a brief apology to the rest of the table, grabs his drink, and slinks away. Passing a waiter serving drinks at another table, he casually sneaks a fresh bottle of beer off the tray and keeps on walking toward the balcony.

  Stepping outside, he finds Ella alone. She’s perched on the balcony railing, overlooking a three-storey drop below, smoking a cigarette.