The shifting of clothing drew his gaze over her shoulder.
She’d somehow forgotten they weren’t alone, and it appeared as though he’d done the same.
“You’re both dismissed,” he decided, raising his voice to be heard. “Wait outside.”
Delaney couldn’t bring herself to turn and see whether Pettus hesitated, but she heard them go.
“You’re pulling away,” Trystan speculated, elaborating when she glanced pointedly down at her unmoving feet. “Not physically. It’s in your eyes. You’re trying not to be here, not to be with me.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” she said.
He paused, considering his options, then asked, “The Ander?”
“Always.” She forced herself not to hesitate in admitting it. It shouldn’t matter to her whether the truth bruised his ego.
“You’re not with him right now.”
“Since when do you want to talk about Ruckus?” she asked suspiciously. Her hands lifted instinctually to ward him off when he continued to advance, and the second they touched his bare chest, she pulled them back.
“You were the one thinking about him,” he reminded her. “He’d already been brought into the room. I’m just shedding light on it. Getting it out of the way.”
“Way of what?” She regretting playing into his hand, and added, “Never mind. Don’t tell me. I don’t care.”
“The way of this”—he motioned to the small space between them—“of us. Let’s be honest, Delaney: Eventually you’re going to have to let him go.”
“Honestly,” she asserted, “I don’t believe that at all.”
The first sign of returning frustration flittered across his face before he got a handle on it. “Sanzie thinks she overheard that you have a plan.”
“Sanzie has a big mouth.”
“Care to share?”
“It’s a phrase that means she talks too much.”
“That I already knew.” He reached for her, slowly, giving her plenty of time to move away. She allowed his fingers to twist around a lock of her hair. “You promised you’d go through with the binding, Delaney.”
She didn’t say anything. There wasn’t any reason to.
“Having second thoughts?” he coaxed.
“Always.”
Trystan dropped his hand and took a deliberate step back. “Our compatibility exercise is tomorrow.”
“What?” What just happened? was what she wanted to ask.
“It’s a test,” he explained. “We’ll have to work together to make it through. Prove that we make a good team.” He grunted when she pursed her lips. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Is that why the Rex showed up?” she asked. “To attend this particular exercise?”
“No,” he informed her, his expression darkening. “He’s here so that you won’t be alone.”
“That’s going to need some serious elaboration.” She crossed her arms defensively. “Where are you going to be?” And why wasn’t she going with him?
“Kilma, he hopes. I haven’t decided yet.” He ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair and sighed. “It’s a fairly large town off the western coast of Kint. The Tar I questioned—”
“The one your father had dropped off like delivery?” she interrupted.
“I suppose. The Tar had information of an upcoming meeting. They’re trying to recruit more people. Starting a riot is the quickest way to gain attention from the public.”
Seriously?
“If my father has his way, I’ll take a troop into Kilma to put an end to their foolishness before it can spread any further. Right now Vakar is mostly clear; with the help of Tilda we’ve managed to keep their protests to a minimum. Once we wipe them out of Kint, you’ll be safe. It takes place three days from now.”
And he was going to kill people. That was really why she couldn’t come along. That, and it’d be insanely dangerous, sure, but she could read between the lines.
“What if I don’t want you to go?” she asked, and at his surprised look, she glanced away. “I don’t want to be alone with your father. He makes me uncomfortable.”
“As he should.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Want to know a secret, Delaney?” He reclaimed that step he’d put between them, lowering his head so that his mouth was a mere breath away from hers. “No one does.”
“How bad is it, really?” she said, mostly to distract herself.
“I only know what I’m told,” he admitted.
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It isn’t,” he agreed. “Usually I’m the one tracking our enemies, planning our best course of action. It comes with being the Jager.”
“I’ve heard that before,” she realized. “At the council meeting. They called you Zane Jager Trystan.”
“It’s similar to what one would call a secretary of defense on your planet,” he told her. “I was forced to take a leave of absence during our bonding preparations.”
“Let me guess,” she drawled. “Your father suggested it.”
“Ordered it. But yes.”
“What a prick.”
“Assuming that means something bad,” he said, and chuckled, “I agree.”
“So if you go, you won’t really know what you’re walking into.” That didn’t sound safe. What if it was a trap?
“I wouldn’t be alone,” he assured her. “There would be over two thousand men and women with me. We’d flood the city, cutting off all the exits to ensure none of the Tars could flee. It would also make a statement to those still questioning whether you deserve their loyalty.”
“How long would you be gone?”
“I’d travel through the night,” he said. “It’s supposed to take place just before dawn. It’ll more than likely take the day to sort through.” He searched her face. “I wouldn’t be able to make it back to you until the day after. I’m sorry, Delaney.”
“You have to do what you have to do.” She tried not to show how freaked-out the thought of him in the middle of all that made her.
“I’m not apologizing for that,” he corrected. “Though I am unsettled by the thought of being away from you, even for such a short period of time. I’m talking about last night, with the Teller.”
She almost wished Pettus were still there so that he could hear it himself.
“I am sorry,” Trystan confessed. “I don’t have any excuses, only that.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t outright forgive him, but she could give him that much. Acceptance, knowing that apologizing at all was a huge step for him. “You can’t just be sorry because it upset me, though. You have to feel bad for what you did to him.”
“I know.” He exhaled. “I’m not there yet.”
He was implying that he was trying, which was something. Certainly more regret than he would have bothered with a month ago. Trystan stood there a moment longer, and she started to worry he was about to kiss her.
Then he pulled back and waved at the room. “We should work on perfecting that move now.”
“Okay,” she repeated, because there wasn’t anything else she could say.
CHAPTER 24
“Time.” Co Gailie reached forward and plucked the shing tablet out of Delaney’s fingers.
At her side, Trystan handed his over, his expression unreadable. He and Delaney were both dressed in tight black clothing, and while she kept picking at the slick and shiny material, he hardly seemed to notice that it clung like a second skin.
There were hard points at the elbows and knees, almost like small octagonal kneepads, and their sleeves stopped just above their elbows. This left plenty of room for the two bands they each wore, one on the wrist, the other just above the elbow. Their weapons had been set to stun earlier that morning, and they’d already tested their shields to ensure there weren’t any glitches.
The fact that they needed them at all had Delaney on edge. She was already nervous as it was about this, and tried not
to seem obvious when she glanced toward a camera hanging on the left wall.
They were on a lower level, and had been informed this was being monitored and broadcasted. She barely understood what they were about to do, and the fact the entire planet had the ability to witness it made her anxiety grow tenfold. Supposedly, the set of rooms and winding halls through the double doors in front of them were riddled with even more cameras to help capture the entire exercise.
“How does alien television work again?” she asked Trystan through their fittings.
“Try not to think about it,” he suggested, and before she could counter with a snide remark about how unhelpful that was, Gailie interrupted.
“Are you ready, Lissa?” she asked softly, drawing Delaney’s attention back to the matter at hand.
“We memorize the map”—she pointed to the devices in the coordinator’s hands—“and then … make it through the maze?” That didn’t seem so bad. Not that she’d been able to focus much on the actual twists and turns of the place. The map had been a confusing jumble of black lines, some of which had even curved.
“You successfully make it through,” Co Gailie reiterated. “You have to reach the end in a timely fashion, and you have to arrive together, or you both fail.”
“Is there a reason we’d be separated?” Because she didn’t like that possibility. Not one bit.
“Relax, Delaney,” Trystan said soothingly, though on the outside he didn’t so much as twitch. “You’ll be fine.”
Really? Because she couldn’t even recall if it was a first left or a first right at the end of the hall. Shit.
Like everyone else, the Rex was watching, and the fact that he made Trystan nervous—though he’d never admit it out loud—made concentrating on anything difficult.
Focus. That was all she had to do.
“The clock starts”—Co Gailie held up a finger—“now.”
Trystan grabbed Delaney’s hand and tugged her forward, sweeping open the doors in the process. They clattered against the walls, then slammed shut behind them with an audible click. Trystan was already scanning ahead, moving briskly down the wide hall.
She fell into step behind him, her finger twitching over the fritz bracelet on her left wrist. “Why do we need these again?”
In retrospect, she probably should have asked earlier, but she’d assumed someone would fill her in eventually. They hadn’t, and now she was silently cursing herself. If they were going to have to defend themselves, had that been what Gailie was referring to? If one of them went down, they automatically lost?
Before she could fully wrap her head around that concept, Trystan turned them left and then sprang back, practically knocking her over. His arm reached to steady her, even as he activated his fritz and began firing around the corner.
“Do you remember the way?” he tossed at her over his shoulder, letting off a couple more shots as he waited for a response.
“No.” She hated that she had to admit it. Conjuring up the image of the map, she desperately tried to recall some of the turns. There’d been colored dots as well, and even some squares, now that she was thinking about it. “Wait.”
“Think quickly.”
“Red squares,” she blurted. “Avoid them. Follow the yellow circles. Yellow, not gold. And there may have been orange ones, too…? I don’t know.”
“Good enough.” He latched on to her wrist and dragged her out behind him, leading them down the hall he’d just been shooting up. They passed several rooms as they traveled, and there were unconscious Tellers slumped in each.
“Damn,” she said breathlessly. Delaney waved her middle finger over the activation censor, her own fritz forming solidly in her hand. Gripping it tightly in her palm, she exhaled slowly to calm her racing heart.
This was just an exercise, she reminded herself. None of those Tellers were dead, only knocked out.
“Their shots will hurt,” he said, as if reading her mind. “They won’t knock us out unless they hit us in the head or the chest. I suggest trying to avoid getting hit anywhere, however.”
“This is like paintball,” she said, amazed and relieved when a shot of excitement trailed over her. She hadn’t played in a long time, but back in middle school she used to go at least once a month with some of her friends.
“And that is?” Trystan asked, glancing around a corner before turning them that way.
Delaney looked at one of the walls and saw a small blue square painted there, almost too tiny to make out. Perhaps these indicated a faster way to the finish line. If he’d known, why’d he bother asking her?
“It’s a game,” she told him, not wanting to dwell. “You go around shooting people. Last team standing wins. Losers usually pay for dinner.”
“Then yes,” he concurred, “this is exactly like paintball. Only with more riding on it than pizza and sugary drinks.”
She blinked at his back. “Did you just make a joke? At a time like this? Trystan.” She clucked her tongue.
“I’m attempting to put you at ease.” He met her gaze briefly over his shoulder. “Is it working?”
Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from around another corner. She was in the process of lifting her arm when he shoved her to the side. He’d already fired his weapon before the Teller came into view, his shot sending the guy to his knees in less than a heartbeat.
He took her hand and tugged her in the same direction, but when they took the next left, he swore viciously.
It was a dead end.
“This isn’t right,” he growled, low and mostly to himself, stepping closer to the wall. It was large and white and blank, so she had no clue what he was looking for.
“Nothing’s going to magically appear.” She turned, about to head back, when another symbol caught her attention. It was smaller even than the blue circle had been, almost the size of her thumbnail, and protruded a centimeter off the wall, barely noticeable at all. “What’s this?”
Trystan came over, frustration evident in his heated gaze. When he saw the button, his mood darkened. “It’s a secret door. It’ll either open up a way forward, or it’ll lead us farther from the end. It all depends on if we’re headed in the right direction already or not.”
Delaney nibbled on her lower lip, thinking it over. “You’re sure that this wall shouldn’t be here?”
He paused, eyes glazing slightly as he pictured the map in his head. Then he gave a single curt nod.
She reached out and pressed the button. At first nothing happened, but then there was a screeching sound behind them and the wall that’d been in their way slowly began to shift to the side, creating an opening into another corridor.
One already filled with waiting Tellers.
Trystan shoved Delaney back, hard enough that she stumbled, and activated his shield at the same time. He was so concerned with keeping her out of the line of fire, he couldn’t avoid all the zees. One glowing neon-pink burst grazed the side of his left arm and he cursed, twisting them both around the corner.
He slumped against the wall, grinding his teeth. A sheen of sweat was starting to cover his forehead.
“What the hell?” Delaney snapped, instinctually moving to force his hand away from the wound so she could get a look. Because the weapons had been set to stun, there was no actual opening, but before she could feel relief, his entire limb jerked.
“Electricity,” he managed between his clenched jaw. “It’ll pass in a moment.”
The sounds of boots hitting the ground and bodies shifting ricocheted closer. Those Tellers weren’t waiting for them to make another appearance. They were heading their way.
“We don’t have a moment.” She shifted on her feet, preparing to round the corner and start firing back. When his fingers clamped around her wrist, keeping her from doing so, she made sure to let all her frustration show.
“Hold,” he ordered, lifting himself into an upright position. The way his fingers twitched gave him away. “I’ll do it.”
“No.” She pressed her palm flat against the center of his chest, forcing him back against the wall for support. “You need a moment, remember? I’ll buy us some time.”
“I said hold,” he growled.
“That’s what I’m doing.” For emphasis, she pressed the hand she still had on him harder. “Holding you back from making another dumb-ass mistake. I don’t need you to shove me out of the way. We’ve been training; you’ve seen me shoot.”
They were running out of time and they both knew it. Honestly, it was amazing the Tellers hadn’t already rounded the corner and taken them out.
“We’re supposed to be doing this together,” she urged. “As in, you protect me, and I protect you.” She eased her hand away and held his gaze steady with her own. “So stop being such an alpha male and let me.”
He hesitated, and she almost started in on him again, but then he nodded.
Not wanting to give him the opportunity to take it back, Delaney activated her shield band and bolted around the corner, fritz raised. She fired into the crowd, counting five Tellers as she did. Realizing she couldn’t take them all out on her own, she made her way over to the other side, turning so she could use the wall as a barrier. Now she and Trystan were on either side, and she caught his eye.
He straightened and there wasn’t a single tremor moving along his arm. Rotating his shoulders, he readied himself, keeping her attention all the while, silently communicating with her.
Which was funny, considering they could have actually been communicating through their fittings. Still, she understood exactly what he intended, and took position herself. She inhaled, and then spun around the same time he did, firing into the hallway.
The remaining three Tellers went down before they could even get a shot off. In step, she and Trystan moved, weapons held aloft in front of them.
“This is stupid, right?” she said a few minutes later, after they’d taken down another group of attacking Tellers. She didn’t bother glancing at the ground as she stepped over their bodies. Were they at least getting paid extra for this? “I mean, you do realize that.”
Giving them sixty seconds to memorize a map of a network of hallways? Like they were in training to become spies or something. What did memorization have to do with any of this? This whole exercise felt extreme, and pretty pointless. Unless it was common for Kints to get lost … together … in mazes … while being shot at.
Between Frost and Fury Page 26
