Page 7 of The Blood Traitor

“I won’t,” Cresta gritted out, her grip unyielding. “Not until you calm the hell down.”

Kiva tried to fight her way free, but it was no use, her body too weak to manage the barest of attempts. All too soon she was panting and leaning against Cresta, the ex-quarrier bearing most of her weight.

“Are you done?” Cresta demanded.

Kiva could only nod, her strength gone, her spirit broken.

The water turned off, and then Kiva was sliding to the ground beside Cresta. The two of them sat against the wall of the shower block, dripping and shivering, their labored breaths echoing into the darkness.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Cresta grunted.

The words summoned an image of Caldon, since he’d said the same thing to Kiva — more than once. Despite her heartache, Kiva’s lips quirked, ever so slightly. Through chattering teeth, she croaked out, “You’re n-not the first person to t-tell me that.”

“I doubt I’ll be the last.”

“I’m s-sorry,” Kiva whispered. The freezing water had sobered her enough that she was appalled by her behavior, even if it had been the drugs making her act that way. “And th-thank you. For helping m-me.”

“We’re not out of this yet,” Cresta warned. “There’s a long road ahead.”

Kiva knew that. And when she was through it —ifshe made itthrough — she would find a way to thank the ex-quarrier, even if Cresta was only repaying a debt.

“You said you’ve h-helped someone else th-through withdrawal,” Kiva said, relishing the cold that was keeping her thoughts clear. “Who w-was it?”

Cresta was quiet for long enough that Kiva thought she wasn’t going to answer. But in the darkness of the shower block, she eventually said, her voice barely audible, “When I was a child, long before Zalindov, my sister found a stash of angeldust and didn’t realize what it was. She overdosed, nearly died. I didn’t leave her side until she recovered.”

“How o-old were y-you?”

“Ten,” Cresta answered. “She was eight.”

So young. “Your p-parents?”

“Things weren’t good at home,” Cresta said without emotion. “My sister had the gentlest soul of anyone I’ve ever met, but my father saw that as a weakness. He had no place for a meek child in his household, so he wiped his hands of her, caring little whether she lived or died. And my mother... she was too busy trying to survive my father. I was all my sister had.”

There was pain in Cresta’s voice, though Kiva could tell she was trying to hide it. Through still-chattering teeth, she asked, “What h-happened?”

“I got her through the overdose, and then through the withdrawal. She stayed far away from angeldust after that.”

“No,” Kiva said, rubbing her arms to generate heat. “What happened t-to your family?”

This time, Cresta’s silence lasted longer. “I have no family. Not anymore.”

Kiva closed her eyes against the depth of feeling in those words. Cresta had arrived at Zalindov over five years ago as a teenager — perhaps sixteen years of age. Whatever had led her there... howevershe’d lost her parents, her sister... there were too many missing pieces for Kiva to have any insight into the ex-quarrier’s past.

“How —”

“Story time is over,” Cresta said, her voice hard enough to remind Kiva that they weren’t friends. Until recently — evenpresently— they were closer to enemies than anything else. “Try to sleep.”

Kiva blinked into the darkness of the shower block. “H-Here?”

“You can’t go back into the dormitory. Another episode like that, and the guards will come investigate,” Cresta said, shifting into a more comfortable position.

“But it’s f-freezing.” Even as Kiva said it, warmth began to flood her again, her withdrawal symptoms returning now that the shock of the icy water had faded. And while the shower had been frigid, the late spring air was temperate enough. Once she was dry, it wouldn’t be too awful. She’d slept in worse places — but never while being weaned off an addictive substance.

“Sleep,” Cresta ordered, ignoring Kiva’s complaint. “While you still can.”

Kiva wanted to argue, wanted to ask the million questions she had while her mind was clear, wanted to bask in her current clarity before she succumbed to more angeldust come morning. But Cresta was right — she needed to sleep while her body would allow it, gathering her strength to get through all that was ahead, both mentally and physically.

And so, clenching her jaw against the hot-and-cold sensations streaking beneath her skin, she closed her eyes and allowed exhaustion to pull her under.

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