Page 91 of Reckless
“You already know that.”
“So,” I say slowly, “how is it that you’re an Ordinary?”
“What are you…” A pause. “What are you talking about?”
I shrug, rustling the hay beneath my shoulders. “Shouldn’t you be aMix, then? That is, so long as your mother was, well—”
“Think very carefully about your next words, Azer,” she says, deceptively calm. “Because if you were about to suggest that my mother was unfaithful, I would think twice.” Her voice is suddenly soft. “They loved each other.”
“I think you overestimate love,” I say simply.
“You can’t overestimate something that is infinite.”
Infinite. How equally intimidating and intriguing.
I can just make out her outline in the darkness. “You can’t tell me that you’ve never wondered why you’re Ordinary.”
Her tone is dull. “I guess I’ve been too busy surviving to figure it out.”
I quiet, contemplating her words. After several long minutes, I clear my throat. “We’ll sleep for a few hours before we grab a horse and head for the Sanctuary.”
“Can’t wait,” she mumbles groggily.
“You going to attempt to stab me in my sleep?” I pause. “Again?”
Her voice is muffled against the pack she’s stuffed her face into. “Well, it didn’t exactly work last night, did it?”
“Still breathing,” I assure her. “But it was a valiant effort.”
“Don’t mock. I’ll push you off this loft.”
“Then you’ll be falling with me.”
She rolls over. “It’ll be worth it.”
CHAPTER 35Paedyn
Hay is stabbing me in the head.
And so is the finger Kai jabs me with. “You sleep like the dead.”
I roll over, grumbling into the pack I’ve been using as a pillow. “Just practicing for when I inevitably am.”
He makes a sound that might just be a stifled laugh. “Up. Now.”
“I’m tired.”
“So am I,” he sighs. “Specifically of you.”
“You’re the one who chained us together,” I mumble. “So you’re not allowed to complain about my company.”
“Up, Gray.”
“Make me, Azer.”
Shit. That was a mistake.
He swings his legs over the ladder, managing to drag me over to him. Then he’s climbing down, yanking my back across the straw and toward the edge. “All right,” I gasp when my head is nearly hanging over the wooden loft. “You’re insufferable.”
