Page 14 of Dark Rebel's Reckoning

She smoothed a hand over the front. "I would like that. I'll cherish this sweater forever."

Pretending to swoon, Max plopped down into the seat with a dramatic sigh, which had the effect he'd been hoping for, making Kyra laugh again.

"You're such a joker."

After Jasmine took Kyra to the bathroom in the back of the plane, Max was left alone with Fenella and Ell-rom. The awkward silence between them was deafening.

"I remembered you like this," Fenella finally said. "You were always a clown." She closed her eyes. "But Kyra was right. Your stupid teasing made me feel normal for a few minutes. Made me forget what I went through."

Max swallowed hard, trying to come up with something teasing or funny to say, but Fenella's words had slayed him, and he had nothing. "I'm sorry. If I had known sooner, I would have come for you."

She nodded. "Even though you never loved me, I believe you would have come."

"Thank you." He let out a breath. "It means a lot to me that you believe I'm not a complete asshole."

"You're welcome. By the way, how did you know where to find Kyra?"

He debated what to tell her. "Would you believe it if I told you a seer saw her location and that she was in dire need of rescuing?"

Fenella snorted. "At this point, I'm willing to believe in anything and everything. I'm not the naive girl you met fifty years ago. I no longer believe that what they teach us in school or what they print in newspapers is true. Most of it is lies, manipulation, ways to keep the simple people in the dark so they will keep working, pay their taxes, and fight in wars that their leaders manufacture to make themselves rich. The world is a much darker place than most people imagine." She smiled at him with gratitude in her eyes. "I'm just thankful that there are still some people in this ugly world, people like you and your friends, who are willing to fight against the darkness. I thought no one would ever come for me, and that I would spend eternity in the hands of that monster."

9

KYRA

Kyra leaned on Jasmine's strength as her daughter led her down the aisle, past the handful of seats that had been reclined to make narrow beds. Some of the warriors were watching television, some were asleep on the reclined seats, and the other four rescued women were sleeping, cocooned in the same wonderful blankets as the one Kyra had left on her seat.

A few heads turned, followed by slight smiles and nods, which she took as encouragement.

At the back, Jasmine opened a small door that slid inward to reveal a compact lavatory that was nevertheless luxurious. A tiny shower stall was partitioned off by a frosted glass panel.

Jasmine stepped inside with Kyra, somehow fitting the two of them in the tiny space. "There's a new travel toothbrush in here." She pointed at a compartment side. "And this is the handle to switch from faucet to shower mode. The temperature knob is labeled." She demonstrated. "The tank isn't huge, so be mindful of the water usage. We want to conserve as much as we can, so at least all the rescued women can wash up if they want to. Therest of us made do with washing our hands. I'll give you some privacy, but I can wait outside if you need anything."

She wanted to be brave and tell Jasmine that she didn't need help and could return to her seat, but that would have been a lie, and Kyra had learned that pride was often detrimental to success.

"Thank you," she said. "I won't be long."

With a nod, Jasmine stepped back into the aisle and closed the door behind her.

Finally, some desperately needed privacy.

After taking care of the most pressing need first, Kyra brushed her teeth and then shrugged out of the enormous sweater, folding it carefully and putting it on top of the closed toilet lid.

Next, she peeled off the threadbare shift she'd been forced to wear.

It carried the stench of captivity, and as a wave of nausea rolled through her, she squeezed her eyes shut until it passed. The trash compartment was too small for the disgusting garment, but she stuffed it in there nonetheless. There was no way she was touching the thing ever again.

Standing completely naked, she glimpsed herself in the mirror over the sink. She looked thinner, pallid, but the bruises were gone and her eyes were bright. She was alive, she was on her way to freedom, and that was what mattered.

She still needed to let her friends know that she was alive, and after what she'd heard she no longer feared that these people could threaten the rebels. If anything, they could help, and onceshe was on a sure footing she would see what she could do to convince them to offer aid.

Stepping behind the partition, she flicked on the water and waited a few heartbeats until it turned warmer. Standing under the spray, she let the water cascade over her hair, shoulders, and back. Despite Jasmine's caution about being quick, she couldn't help but linger for a moment.

Scrubbing her scalp felt oddly cathartic, as if every clump of dried sweat or grime she sloughed off was one more layer of captivity washing down the drain. The fresh scent of the shampoo was clean and simple, but a luxury nonetheless.

She tried not to think about what she'd left behind and focused on all the incredible things she'd learned since being freed.

Gods, immortals, Dormants.

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