Page 23 of Consort of the Crime Queen

CHAPTER 12

Aurora

My sleep schedule is all over the place, and when I wake, Hadria has gone, though she left a note by the bed, telling me she had to go to work—and begging me to just stay in Elysium until she gets back. So I return to my own bedroom where I shower and dress, and discover that it's just coming up on midnight—one of the busiest times of day at Elysium, and the time I used to go out to my sanctuary.

I go there again tonight.

The night garden sprawls before me in all its moon-kissed glory. I pause at the edge, drinking in the sight. Lush flowers unfurl their velvet petals, releasing their siren scent into the darkness. It's just as I remember, and just as coldly beautiful as the mistress of this estate.

I follow the stepping-stone path deeper into the garden, running my fingers over midnight blooms as I pass. Part of me aches at Hadria's absence. But the rest of me is glad for a little space to breathe, to regain my own equilibrium away from her mercurial presence.

Still, even when she's not here, I feel Hadria everywhere within these walls. Her will shapes every aspect of this place. And I am not just some lonely night-gardener these days.

I have a new place here at Elysium, one that I intend to take up with all my heart. So after drinking in the familiar sights and smells, I reluctantly leave the garden's shelter behind.

It's time for training with Lyssa and the others.

Down in the training room, the cavernous space hums with activity. My usual training group is already hard at work—grappling, boxing, practicing choke holds and joint locks. Under Lyssa's watchful eye, they transition swiftly from one exercise to the next. I arrived just in time for sparring.

At the sight of me crossing the mats, conversation sputters to a halt. Lyssa's head jerks up, eyes narrowing.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Her lips flatten in a thin line even as her gaze rakes me up and down, assessing.

I lift my chin, refusing to be cowed. "Why shouldn't I be here? No one else gets time off. Why should I be treated any different?"

The line of Lyssa's mouth softens a fraction and she inclines her head in acknowledgment. In this world, self-pity is akin to weakness. And weakness gets you killed. "Your shoulder okay?"

I windmill my arm in response. "It's fine." It's a little sore after that wrenching it took escaping the Imperioli estate, but it's improved a lot since yesterday.

Before I can say anything else, Mario bounds over to me, grin stretched ear to ear. "You're really back! We all thought you died, or something," he exclaims. "Where have you been?"

Several other recruits chorus their own greetings, curiosity in their voices. I suppress a wince, hating the lies I'll have to tell.

"I just had a little bug." I wave it off like it's nothing. Mario's friendly puppy dog enthusiasm is impossible to resist, and I'm grateful he's here. It eases my return, stops anyone else asking pointed questions. Hadria wants me to keep quiet about what went down with Don Imperioli, and I intend to honor her request.

With Mario as my sparring partner, we begin our grappling holds. He's got bulk and strength on his side, but I've got speed and technique, and we know each other's moves almost too well after endless hours training together.

As we twist and torque into submission holds, I lose myself in the exertion, muscles burning. The familiar adrenaline of fighting washes away the last few days completely. This is where I'm meant to be.

Mario yelps as I catch him in an arm bar, holding just long enough to prove my point before releasing him. We trade playful taunts as we both catch our breath. The others are watching us, but curiosity has shifted to appraisal now. I've earned my place among them, proved my skills more than once.

Now I need to prove something to myself—prove that I'm not going to break. That I can handle anything this world throws at me.

Because there's a war coming. I can feel it, just like the rest of the Syndicate can, looming on the horizon like gathering thunderclouds. And I refuse to be unprepared when it hits.

After I pin Mario for the third time, he calls for a break, massaging his elbow with a rueful grin. "I'm gonna be feeling those holds for a week."

I can't resist flashing him a smug smile. "Better work on your defense then."

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and heads off to get water. The others pair off to continue sparring, but Lyssa crooks a finger at me in a silent command. I follow her to a quiet corner of the gym, wiping sweat from my brow.

She crosses her arms, expression unreadable. "You've got guts showing up today. Not sure if it's stupidity or stubbornness. Probably both."

I resist the urge to fidget under that piercing stare. "I want to make sure I can protect myself. I never want to be a prisoner again."

Lyssa nods slowly. "Still, this group is for Syndicate recruits. Not sure the Boss wants you training in deadly force anymore."

I bite my lip but force myself to hold her gaze. "Hadria and I are still figuring things out, but she wants me to be able to protect myself." And I want to be able to protect her, too. But I don't add that.

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