Page 66 of Uncontrolled

Stunned, I stare at her open-mouthed. My abdomen clenches as I wait for the pain from her kick to subside, trying not to heave.

“I want you to realize,” she goes on. “That you pissed off someone with a direct link to people who want our blood and gave him half a damn day to decide on his revenge. He knows things, Allie! Get those walls up! Protect yourself!” Talia spits, and I know she’s not talking about our vicious sparring match.

This time when she drives her heel into the mat, I’m not there to catch it in the chest. I roll and spring. My shoulder catches her upper thighs and I knock her to the mat. She squirms, grappling to swap our positions and end up on top of me. I shove my fingers under her armpit and through the space there, use my leverage to yank her arm hard enough that I hear the pop of her socket as it dislocates. Talia screams. With her free hand, she reels and drives the heel of her palm into my nose. It explodes in dual streams of blood. This time, my tears have nothing to do with Christopher.

I cough, spattering red, but I don’t release Talia. Instead, I double down, crawl a knee onto her spine as I drive her into the mat face first. “Tap out.”

Her hips thrust, one leg jerking as she attempts to free herself and turn this fight around. We both know I won. Talia’s palm hits the mat and I untangle myself.

“I know how to protect myself,” I snarl. “I’m not weak. He doesn’t make me weak.”

“He does,” she says, barely able to form the words through the pain chiseled into her features. “I never should have been able to sweep you. Now you’re bleeding. You’re hurt.”

She’s right. I’m clutching my middle where her kick landed. A soft pattering fills the gym. I paw at my nose and then give up, pinching the bridge to stanch the flow there.

She taps a finger against her temple as she scowls at me. “You fuck up. Anytime he’s mentioned, any time he’s around, any time you think that asshole is in danger, you spiral.”

I’m shaking my head, but she goes on.

“If you can’t see why that’s wrong, why what you did by letting him live is an insult to every resurrectionist who ever died protecting our blood, our secrets, then you shouldn’t be in charge of the cluster at all.”

Talia’s infuriatingly calm as she works her shoulder to see if it’ll pop into the socket on its own. Something tells me she’s not quite ready to accept my help. I glare at her, willing myself to come up with an argument, something, anything to defend myself, to defend him.

When I don’t, her head starts a slow shake.

“If you won’t protect our resurrectionists,” she says. “Then I will.”

I’m moving before my brain catches up, already fisting her shirt collar. She doesn’t have time to hide her surprise as I rip her toward me. “You threaten him again, and I will bleed you dry myself.”

“Try it,” Talia snarls.

“This isn’t your decision,” I say.

Her laughter stops me short. She grabs my wrist and slings my grip from her collar. “Because you’re the leader here?” She says the word like it’s an insult. She starts to throw her hands up and then clutches her arm with an exhausted sigh. “I’m done listening to you pop off wishes about how things are going to go and wind up dumbfounded when reality bites you in the ass.”

I stare down at my blood-streaked hands, silent as her tirade continues.

“I’m tired of backing down from what I know is right to spare your feelings,” Talia goes on. “I’m tired of asking you for permission.” There’s a pause. “I’m going to take over the—”

“No,” I say. “You’re going to stand down and do what you’re told.” The determination in my voice startles me, but I don’t let it show. “This is my cluster. I’ll protect us.”

Talia’s brows knit together as if she can’t quite believe I’m holding my ground. “How?”

“We’ve got a nest of hunters in Fissure’s Whipp, don’t we?”

“Oh, now that you’re personally inconvenienced, you’re ready to act?” she asks.

“Without those hunters, Christopher and I would have been fine.” I break off at Talia’s noise of disbelief. “What?”

“Christ,” she mumbles. “It’s always about you, Allie. When are you going to grow the hell up?”

My voice brims with snark. “Okay, Talia. Say you are the leader. What’s your move? What do you do first?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “I go after your hunter boyfriend.”

“Glass houses, you hypocrite,” I say. “You hate him. Without him, we’d probably be dead or worse, and he’s a living reminder. He doesn’t make me weak, he reminds you of when you were weak and you want him dead for it!”

I brace myself for her argument. It doesn’t come.

---