Page 9 of Dark Reign

CHAPTER FOUR

Corina

Currents of humid air caressed my cheek. It wasn’t until a soggy tongue swept beneath my nostrils that I equated the aroma of bacon marinated in swamp water with Riot’s breath. If her goal was to wake me … mission accomplished.

“I’m okay, girl.”

I nudged her snout an inch or two away before scratching her chin, feeling the softness of brown fur at my fingertips. A whimper hit the air when I showed signs of consciousness. She was always like this for the first twenty-four hours following an episode—clingy and overprotective.

The room spun a little when I swung my legs over the edge of a cot. The main effects of seizing subsided within an hour or so, but I typically didn’t feel like myself for much longer than that. Hence the reason I had yet to leave the infirmary, opting to hang out here until the sun set again.

I could have sworn someone had taken a drill to my forehead, right between the eyes. It was always this way, and the postictal headache was my least favorite after-effect. I hated it even more than the sore muscles, the nausea and confusion.

Riot took a seat right beside my foot, her large body pressed against my calf. She was a good girl, the best dog someone like me could have for more reasons than one. My arm was heavy to lift, but I reached to scratch her head anyway, imagining that seeing me down for the count must have been traumatic for her, despite having comforted me through too many episodes to remember. Especially before Felix rigged the nifty bracelet to suppress them.

I glanced there, to my wrist where the gadget glinted beneath the sterile glow of florescent lighting. To the naked eye, it looked like a simple piece of jewelry, but it was much more than that to me. It’d been the key to regaining a small measure of control over my life about three years ago.

Riot and I were both jumpier than usual, whipping our heads toward the door when someone burst through. A set of peeved, green eyes just about burned a hole through me in the fraction of a second Liv cast her gaze my way. I watched as her slight figure crossed the room in the t-shirt I loaned her months ago. On me, it was a perfect fit; on her, it was at least two sizes too big.

She bounded toward the small table in the corner without a word. I expected as much, the team giving me the silent treatment all day, and now into the evening. Especially considering what I’d done the night before. They’d been kind enough to slide meals in beneath the door, but none had come in to chat. None until now, until Liv.

Going into the field knowing I wasn’t at my best wasn’t heroic. Not to the people watching from a monitor miles away, the ones talking you through a mission. Not when we were all the closest thing anyone had to family. Whenever I kept things like this from them, it was looked upon as a betrayal, a breach in trust because I’d taken an unnecessary risk with my life.

My transport’s life.

Except … they were the only ones who saw it asunnecessary.I’d make the same choice I had today time and time again if it meant not sending one of them to do the job in my place.

No one liked a lecture, but I honestly would’ve opted for that versus being frozen out.

A tin cup slammed to the table and water sloshed over the rim. Riot responded to Liv’s aggression with another whimper before lowering to the ground, covering her face with a paw.

I didn’t blame her.

Liv maylooksweet and innocent with her small stature and pixie-like features, but I knew for a fact she was neither of those things when you pissed her off.

A heavy sigh came with a look, and then she did her‘I mean business’pose—feet planted firmly together, hands on hips.

“You know … I’m still trying to find the logic in having a service dog that can predict and help you through a seizure if you’re only gonna leave her behind.”

My back fell against the cool, cinderblock wall before answering. “We’ve already gone over this. It’s too dangerous out there.”

When I closed my eyes for a moment, I envisioned the hellhound that chased me down last night. Yes, Riot was a service dog—a gift from,andtrained by, my late father—but she was also fiercely protective of me. There was no way she would’ve backed down, and I could only imagine what would have happened had she attempted to defend me from the monsters.

“You need her, Cori.”

“Which is precisely the reason I’m nevertaking her out there. You know as well as I do what these missions are like.”

Liv stared me down, but I returned her stern look.

“What if Alex and O.C. hadn’t made it to you when they did?” she countered.

“But theydidmake it, so …”

Her eyes narrowed to slits when she glared. “Is that how we operate now? Hoping and praying things go okay? Crossing our fingers you don’t have an episode while trying to escape?”

The pain between my eyes spread. Pinching the bridge of my nose helped a little.

“Maybe,” I breathed, partly because I just wanted the conversation to end, partly because it was true. Maybe thatwasour normal.

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