Page 34 of Revenge of the Forgotten

Marlena inhaled, her chest rising and falling before the words spilled from her red-painted lips. “I need something from her, and in order for me to get it, she’s going to have to get her memories back.” Her voice didn’t falter. “And I want to be the one to return to her what I stole so she can see how forgiving I can be when I choose to.”

Bridger’s eyebrows drew together for a split second before realizing. Marlena caught the look, and a serpentine smile spread across her face.

She raised her hand, her index finger tracing the creased line forming between Bridger’s brows. He batted her hand away, coaxing a chuckle deep from within Marlena’s chest. “I can finally end this once and for all, and all I need is for Vega to give up one little piece of information, and to finally lose hope that she can ever beat me.” She paused, cocking her head. “Do you think that sounds like something I should be telling everyone who works for me? The less they know, the better.”

Bridger huffed, changing the subject to hide the shock of her disclosure. “I am not just someone who works for you. You made me look like a fool in front of your entire council last night.”

Marlena painted on a remorseful look, making it look almost real. “I did not.” It wasn’t a power she possessed, but a skill she’d learned early on in her life to give people the side of her she knew they wanted.

Bridger snarled, shaking his head. “You did, and I thought we made an agreement a long time ago. You will not treat me like the dog you turned my father into. I am not left out of any decision that involves me. I don’t care who or what it entails. Vega is your problem, not mine, and yet you’re forcing her to become mine by cleaning up whatever mess it is that you can’t handle yourself. You might not think you need me, but you do… and you’ve just made that so clear.”

The air around them electrified with the shift in her mood. “I need no one,” Marlena snapped.

“When will you stop lying to me?” Bridger had her backed into a corner, metaphorically. Marlena swallowed, but Bridger cut her off before she had the chance to speak. “If you didn’t need me, I would’ve been dead a long time ago. You need me, Marlena—in more ways than one. The soldiers would have turned on you ages ago if it weren’t for me. The relationships that I had to rebuild after my father’s death, the work that I’ve done to make Tolevarre’s army better than it’s ever been, knowing that I keep them safe from your wrath is the only thing keeping them from joining the rebels. Just admit it, and I’ll accept your apology for how dirty you did me last night, for keeping imperative information from me.” Bridger smiled, his broad shoulders back and one brow raised knowingly.

Marlena’s lips tightened. “Why must you push me?” she questioned, fists clenched.

“Because I’m the only one who can.” His words struck a nerve, getting the reaction Bridger was hoping for. Fire trickled across Marlena’s fingertips, making Bridger smile. “Ah-ah, your people are watching.” Bridger shook his finger and nodded in the direction of a small group that had slowed to watch them.

“Fine. I need you. I need you because if you’re not mine, then you’re Vega’s, and we know how that ended in the first few lives. You are the key to breaking her.”

Bridger uttered a small laugh. “Good girl,” he whispered as he leaned into her ear. “But everything after ‘I need you’ was unnecessary.”

Marlena tensed, the fire gone from her hand. “I know what you’re doing, Bridger. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

“I know you know, but look at me, holding some power over you. It feels good.” Bridger licked his lips, leaning away from her ear to catch her eye as the corners of his mouth ticked in the faintest upward tilt. “What you did to me last night will never happen again or I’ll make you regret it. Know that you need me more than I need you.”

Bridger dropped his shield and backed away from her, nodding a goodbye before he broke back into a run. Having the upper hand with Marlena was rare, and no matter the hatred that still bubbled in the pit of Bridger’s stomach, he smiled, knowing that he’d gotten Marlena to admit what no one else ever had.

“It’s nice to meet you, Commander,” Halo said, his blond hair the color of snow in the sun.

Bridger nodded to him, giving him a once-over, but ignored the boy’s greeting. “How does this work?” He straightened his scabbard, sliding his bonded sword in. Bonded weapons answered to their owner, making them stronger with that weapon than any other. They were made by blacksmiths in Ardor. He buckled the holster wrapped around his right thigh, ornamented with a few of his favorite daggers.

Bridger watched as Halo’s eyes raked over his weapons with unease.

Meyer entered the room, dressed and ready for battle with his own assortment of weapons. Their powers wouldn’t work once they stepped through the portal, and while they probably didn’t need more than their bare hands to get the job done, Bridger wasn’t taking any chances.

The boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Um, I’m not entirely sure,” he answered, fiddling with his hands in front of him.

Bridger raised a dark eyebrow. “We’re off to a great start,” he said under his breath to Meyer, his arms crossed over his chest.

Meyer wasn’t born a warrior by blood, but he became one of the best from standing beside Bridger all his life.

The Fraus-born traveler shook his head. “I mean, I’m the only one of my specific kind that we know of, and I’d prefer not to end up an experiment so people get to understand how my ability works.”

He had a point, to which Bridger nodded and said, “Fair.”

Meyer patted Bridger on the back once. “Do you think the swords are really necessary?” he asked as he eyed them. Bridger cocked his head, ignoring the nagging presence of the young traveler across from him.

Arlet wasn’t the helpless young girl she once was. She’d had fifty-five years to learn how to defend herself, and Bridger knew there was a power inside of her no one would understand—it was the one secret he’d kept from Marlena. He’d made mistakes in his life, but he felt like keeping Arlet safe from whatever Marlena might do if she found out was his final apology to the friend he’d crossed.

“Do you want to be caught facing a very angry Arlet with just a single dagger?” Bridger waited for his reply, watching him process the question with a raised brow.

“Absolutely not.”

“Good choice,” Bridger replied.

Bridger wasn’t wearing his commander uniform, only his simple training suit with the gold insignia over his heart. Meyer’s uniform mimicked his, though his family’s insignia was a red flame.

---