“I think she won,” said Dag. “Porfirio cut his hair the next day.”
“No,” said Val. “I think he won. I saw her. You know that look she gets after sex. She’s less tense for, like, five minutes.”
“Maybe they both won,” he said.
“Or lost,” suggested Val.
Justin wanted to beat his head on the table. Instead, he poured another glass of bourbon. “Is there more to this? What about the part where I’m punishment?”
Val gave up on analyzing the fight’s outcome. “I’m getting to that.”
Maybe by tomorrow, said Magnus.
“Whatever happened, they were together after that. And they were glorious. Her all fair and gold, him like some dark Mediterranean god.”
“He wasn’t that good-looking,” grumbled Dag.
“Yes, he was,” she retorted. “They didn’t serve together much. Word gets around, even to the higher-ups, and they keep couples apart so there’s no conflict of interest. But whenever they had time off together, they’d hole up and stay in bed for days.” Val’s gaze shifted inward. “I think she was happy.”
“Apparently not,” said Dag ominously.
“Maybe.” Val focused on Justin again. “About six months ago, he proposed. I don’t know how he did it. He was always over-the-top, so I’m sure it was something gorgeous and dramatic. Didn’t matter, though. She said no.”
“Why?” Justin was getting hooked again and was barely aware of how much bourbon he was taking down.
Val shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s her business. But he certainly had all sorts of theories. He blew up and went off on her about everything. It was all behind closed doors, but I heard enough of it from her. He accused her of not being able to commit. He said she was too proud to leave her caste. He even told her she must have been cheating on him. I think he was pretty desperate to rationalize why she wouldn’t run off into the sunset with him. Whatever it was, it got pretty ugly, and if I had been there to see it, I would’ve made sure he never fucked anything again.”
Dag nodded in agreement, and Justin once again looked into the faces of the prætorians who’d been at his doorstep. No more levity. No more antics. They were hard and deadly, and if Porfirio had been there right now, Justin was pretty sure they would’ve ripped him apart.
They love her, said Magnus.
Justin agreed. Yes, they do.
Unhinged, wacky, lethal…these prætorians were many things, but they were also devoted to Mae with an intensity he rarely saw in the world. And although she hadn’t mentioned them yet, he would have wagered all he had that she felt the same way about them.
How does devotion like that happen? he asked. Is it because they have all that national loyalty drilled into them, and it just gets transferred to those they serve with?
There doesn’t have to be anything complex behind love, said Magnus. People just care about each other…because they do. Friends are like that. Lovers are like that. You should try it sometime.
I love Cyn and Quentin. Are you going to demean that?
No, that’s real, conceded Magnus.
Who are they more loyal to? Each other or the RUNA?
The ravens didn’t answer.
“Porfirio didn’t take it very well,” said Val, finally gaining enough control to continue on with the story. “He kind of got out of control. He wanted to prove himself. And he wanted to get away from her. He requested an assignment over in Europe—you know what a mess that is.”
“I do,” said Justin. Europe had never been a consideration for his exile. “What happened to him?”
“He died,” said Val simply. Her and Dag’s faces were grave. “Killed in combat from some explosion. I don’t know the details. I don’t want to know. When word got back, a lot of people—especially his cohort—said what happened was her fault.”
“It wasn’t,” said Dag fiercely. “That was that bastard’s own mistake.”
Val obviously agreed. “But plenty didn’t think so—still don’t. His funeral was three weeks ago, and one of the Indigos picked a fight over it.”
Dag lit up a little. “Finn cleaned the floor with that bitch. It was amazing. Kind of scary too. I mean, like we said, she’s good…but wow. It was unreal.”
“It was real enough to our superiors,” said Val dryly. “Drunken fights at parties are one thing. Disorderly conduct at a military funeral is completely different. She spent some time in confinement and then got officially reprimanded. They stripped her of her uniform and—”
“Wait,” Justin interrupted. “What’s that mean?”
“It means she can’t wear a prætorian’s uniform until the ban is lifted. If she has to go in military wear, it’s got to be gray and maroon.” Val’s eyes were troubled, filled with sympathy for her friend. “It’s a pretty big deal.”
A uniform didn’t sound like a big deal, but every cue from Val and Dag said it was. After a little consideration, Justin could understand it. The prætorians were very, very self-satisfied, confident in their power and position. The uniforms were a symbol of that. They were part of the public’s image of them: deadly, black-clad warriors. The greatest in the Republic. Being denied that had to be like losing a part of oneself, and with a pang, he suddenly realized why Mae had been so hostile when he’d suggested she dress up to meet Dennis.
“She also got cut from both active duty and ceremonial duty.” Val allowed a dramatic pause as the story finally neared its end. “She got assigned to you.”
“And that’s why I’m a punishment,” he concluded. They nodded, and Justin made no attempt to conceal his feelings.
“Don’t take it personally,” said Dag, almost kindly. “Your life’s kind of exciting.”
“But it could be a lot better,” said Justin.
A long pause followed, and then Dag repeated, “Don’t take it personally.”
Justin managed to summon his customary smile—though it was harder than usual tonight—and act as though he was taking this all in stride and had enjoyed their lively story. He tried to think of a topic that wasn’t his being a punishment.
“I’m kind of surprised she was openly involved with someone who wasn’t Nordic,” he said. An outside castal was considered the same as a plebeian. “I figured she would’ve been put in some well-arranged marriage.”
“Her?” Val’s earlier levity returned. “Hell, I don’t think she’s ever dated a Nordic guy. At least not as long as I’ve known her.”
“But she’s still got Nordic citizenship. Seems like she’d want to stay on good terms.”
“Apparently not as much as she wants to sleep with dark-haired guys,” said Dag. “And as long as she’s not married or knocked up, she can flaunt a guy she really likes as much as she wants.”
A couple of things about that bothered Justin. One was that Mae had lied about her inability to be with someone like him. The other was the subtle assumption that she hadn’t “flaunted” him because he wasn’t a guy she really liked. She was still off-limits, but that old sting to his pride remained.
He finished his current glass and offered them more, but a check of the time made the prætorians realize they were missing another party.
“Thanks for the hospitality,” Val said, standing up. She touched his cheek. “I’ll have to repay you sometime.”
“Val,” warned Dag.
She merely laughed and gave Justin a wink as she sauntered out. Dag started to follow and then turned back. “Leave your girl hanging for most of tomorrow. Then finally tell her you got a call from the authorities, and they’re letting her off—this time. It’ll stop it from happening again.”
“Thanks for the parenting tip.”
Dag grinned and left with Val.
Justin stayed at the table and poured another glass. There was a storm of emotions raging within him, something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He was hurt. Hurt, sad, and angry. He gulped down half the bourbon and slammed it on the table.
He f
elt like an idiot.
It hadn’t seemed possible that his tangled relationship with Mae could get any weirder. Apparently, he was wrong. Looking back on everything now, he felt sick thinking about some of his behaviors.
You’re sick because you’ve been drinking too much, like usual, said Horatio.
I’m sick because she’s been keeping this tragic love story locked inside her. How long does it take to get over something like that? I knew she was sad in Panama. I could see it, but I went for it anyway. I shouldn’t have.
You didn’t know. And you were drunk then as well, said the raven.
Magnus was kinder. You didn’t act alone. She went for it too, and she was sober.
Why? asked Justin.
Because women find you attractive. Magnus’s tone suggested he didn’t entirely understand that. And you were sad too. Like calls to like.
My life has improved since then, Justin reflected. Well, kind of. But hers got worse. I knew she wasn’t thrilled about an irregular assignment, but I didn’t know I was a punishment! And here I’ve been the whole time, arrogant and presumptuous, giving her a hard time over what happened between us, just because I was offended she wasn’t drooling over me. I’m as shallow as she claims.
When the ravens didn’t deny it, Justin stood up on unsteady legs. “I’m going to see her.”
That’s a bad idea, said Horatio as Justin went inside.
It wouldn’t be my first, Justin replied.
A check in the mirror showed he was presentable. His clothes were neat and unwrinkled. Every hair was in place. He didn’t even look that drunk.
He could feel the ravens’ incredulity at that last thought.
He double-checked Mae’s address and then caught the purple line downtown. A transfer took him out to her neighborhood, an older but upscale district with well-established trees and pretty brick buildings. Mae lived in a town house with cherry trees out front, and he paused to admire it as he stood outside. It wasn’t quite as sleek as his last apartment had been, but it was still the kind of place he should’ve ended up in, rather than his sister’s house. He really needed to fix that and move to the city.
He braced himself as he went up the stairs, trying to stay cool in the flood of anxiety and eagerness filling him. He still didn’t know what he was going to say, but if he talked to her, they could fix things. He needed to make sense of all of this, to understand why—
“Hello?”
A strange man opened the door. He only wore jeans, showing off a bodybuilder’s chest. He had sandy-colored hair that looked damp from recent washing. After a few initial moments of shock, Justin decided that he must have the wrong place.
“I—I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”
The man gave him an easy smile, and Justin realized he wasn’t a stranger after all. He was one of the prætorians from the senate. “You looking for Kosk—er, Mae?”
Justin could only give a mute nod.
“Come in, and I’ll get her.” The guy stepped aside. “She just got out of the shower.”
CHAPTER 24
THERAPY
Mae hadn’t expected to get as much amusement as she had out of Justin’s treatment of Tessa’s poor date. Maybe after everything that had happened in Mazatlán, that little bit of comic relief was what she needed. It didn’t change Mae’s overall mood, of course. She was still reeling from everything that had happened, still trying to find a way to process the unimaginable: that a man she’d come to respect—despite how infuriating he was at times—was being driven by delusions of the very thing he was supposed to be fighting against.
As she started to climb the steps to her town house, she remembered a message that had come to her ego about a package that had arrived for her. She changed course and walked to the building next door, where her landlord lived. His lobby held all the tenant mailboxes on that block, as well as larger compartments for packages. Kneeling down, Mae located the one indicated and scanned her ego over the digital lock. The door clicked open, and she found a bouquet of long-stemmed white roses, their petals delicately edged in pink. She picked them up in surprise, searched for a card that wasn’t there, and headed back to her home.
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had sent her flowers. Maybe some love-struck former soldier from back before she’d joined the prætorians? Porfirio hadn’t been much for gestures like these. Sure, he went for the dramatic sometimes, but it would be things like a candlelit bedroom, the kind of act that usually resulted immediately in sex. For half a second, she wondered if they were from Justin as a sort of Sorry for completely deceiving you about my involvement in illicit religions apology. But no. The flowers had arrived while they were traveling to Mazatlán.
She put them in a vase and received an answer far more quickly than expected when her ego rang with a call. The display showed a shocking name, and she switched the call over to her living room screen. Lucian Darling’s smiling face appeared, as handsome and polished as anything she’d find at a press conference.
“Senator,” she said in greeting. “I figured you’d forgotten about me.”
His grin widened. “Impossible. Just been caught up in the whirlwind of campaigning. Not that that’s an excuse.”
“I don’t know about that. It’s actually kind of a good one, what with you preparing to lead the country and all that.”
“Does that mean you’ll urge your representative to vote for me?”
She laughed and settled onto the couch. “Sure.”
“Then I’m one step closer. Was it the roses that won you over?”
“No, but thank you.” Despite all the ease and charm he radiated, she felt a little flustered by the gesture. It kicked his flirting from their first meeting up a notch, something she wasn’t sure she wanted. “You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did. I needed to secure your vote. That, and I was hoping I could get you out for a late dinner.”
The unexpected just kept coming. “Tonight?”
“Sorry about the short notice.” Something in his manner made her think he wasn’t that sorry, that he still figured she’d jump at the chance. He and Justin weren’t that different after all. “An event just got canceled, so I’m homebound in Vancouver for the night and thought you might like to come over. Don’t read that as presumption,” he added. “It’s more for convenience. I’d gladly take you out somewhere, but I don’t think you’d like the attention.”
“Probably not,” she said in agreement. Remembering Justin’s observations about the political fallout of a plebeian senator dating a castal, Mae knew Lucian wouldn’t like the attention either.
“Fortunately for you, I can cook the kind of steak most people only dream of. You’ll be a believer.” That smile was in overdrive now as he waited for her response.
“That’s sweet. And flattering,” she said honestly. “But I literally just walked in after a long trip and don’t think I’m up to getting out.” Or navigating the treacherous waters of this sort of liaison. “I’m sorry. But thank you.”
His face fell only a little. Undaunted, he asked, “I’m out of town tomorrow but back the next day. How’s Monday night work for you?”
She shook her head. “I’m out of town. Justin and I are going to be out at the Nordic land grant.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Taking him home to meet the parents?”
“Business,” she said, shuddering at the thought of unleashing him on her family.
“Well, that reminds me…I also called because I’ve got an answer—sort of—to Justin’s question about servitor hiring.”
She’d nearly forgotten about that. “Why not call him?”
“I’d rather talk to you. Besides, he’d give me grief about not having much that’s conclusive.”
“What’d you find out?”
He shrugged. “Mostly that the number of servitors has increased because the demand has increased.”
“Are you sure?” Mae tried to recall what Justin had said. “I th
ink he checked the number of cases SCI’s got. There’s no significant difference from last year.”
Lucian’s eyes sparkled, probably at one-upping Justin. “He checked the national cases. But not ones in the protectorates and provinces.”
She was startled. “I didn’t think we sent many servitors there. Especially the provinces.” Protectorates weren’t that surprising. They were usually on track to being annexed, so it made sense that the RUNA would start cleaning house in advance.
“We do now,” said Lucian.
“Why?”
“No one gave me an answer on that. But I also found out some of the national cases are getting multiple servitors investigating them.” He tilted his head to study her. “Is that helpful?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Justin will have to make the call on that. I’ll pass it on. Thank you.”
The grin was back. “Happy to help. Especially if I get to talk to you again. Don’t worry—we’ll make something work out one of these days.”
“Thanks,” said Mae, who hadn’t been worried.
There was something appealing about him, but again, it was a mess she didn’t need. After a little more flirtation, Lucian disconnected and Mae stood up, stretching her muscles. The activity in Mazatlán hadn’t wearied her. If anything, it had made her crave more physical action. The odds of finding a canne partner this time of night were pretty low, though.
In a heartbeat, she made her decision—an ironic one, considering she’d just rejected Lucian. But she needed a simpler man now, one who didn’t travel with reporters in tow and could help her with this physical restlessness in as simple a way as possible.
“Call Giles Whitetree,” she told the screen.
He answered quickly, looking pleasantly surprised to see her face. “Koskinen.”
Whitetree had been on her mind since she’d seen him at the senate. He was a Scarlet too, one of the nicest guys in her cohort. Little stressed him out, and he didn’t kiss and tell. His liaisons sometimes did, and what they told was always favorable.
“What are you doing tonight?” she asked.
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