Page 33 of Sadist

“Besides the obvious,” she said, gesturing to the door, “I know who I’m in here with. I don’t know who is waiting behind that door, and I’m currently a ghost. I would rather like to keep it that way.” She shifted on her feet. “Theo, you need to sit down. You haven’t eaten in the better part of three days, and you lost a lot of blood.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why the hell would you want to stay dead?”

“It’s the chance for a fresh start,” she said quickly. “And considering there have been no reports to contradict my untimely demise, I am going to hazard a guess that I’m standing in front of the only person who knows I am alive.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked. “You are a job.”

“Because I saved your life,” she snapped. “I highly doubt you would have survived that on your own.”

“You think far too highly of my morals,” I said bitterly.

“I don’t think I do,” she replied, slowly lowering her hands.

I lowered the gun, eyeing her warily.

She relaxed slightly, though she didn’t move as I forced feet that felt like lead toward the kitchen, not bothering with a glass as I leaned over the sink and drank greedily straight from the tap. Water had never tasted so sweet, lifting the fog from my mind as the coolness soothed some of the feverish heat I was wrapped in. I drank until my belly didn’t feel so hollow, only then pausing to catch my breath.

Three days.

Shit.

“Where’s my phone?” I asked without looking at her. This was the first time since I had fallen into this job that I was caught off guard, and I didn’t like it.

“Plugged in over by the monitors,” she answered, adding, “It’s off, just charging. I didn’t touch it.” She seemed to realize I was completely incapable of walking that distance, and got up from the table, striding over to where she had left it and brought it to me, though she hesitated for a long moment.

“Thank you,” I murmured as she handed over the phone.

“You’re welcome,” she said. And we both knew it wasn’t for the phone.

She hovered nervously as I turned it on. It was nearly midnight Monday, and I had a dozen missed calls from Erryn’s personal number that started last night. I swore softly, flicking through all the other notifications. I had a couple cameras installed in my living quarters, but none that The Triarchy had access to. Only the garage had a camera that I let link to their feed—with selective blind spots—and it would have been clear to her that I had not emerged from my home since the attack.

“What are you doing?” Octavia shifted on her feet, eyeing me warily.

“Calling Erryn,”I said, wincing as the light hurt my eyes.

“Theo,” Octavia murmured, a hint of pleading in her voice.

I held a finger to my lips as I hit call, Erryn picking up on the first ring.

“Glad you have decided to pick up your phone,” she said, her tone icy, though I could hear the underlying strain of the questions she desperately wanted to ask, but was too rigid to give an inch. “Have an enjoyable sabbatical?”

“Time of my life,” I said dryly. “I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking.”

“It’s been three days, Theodora,” she said, her tone a little softer. “Why did you not call a medic?”

“You need to be conscious to do that,” I quipped back. “I need a couple more days to get my strength back and get up to speed. I’ll report in when I am good to go.”

There was a long silence on the other end, and I was about to check we hadn’t been disconnected when I heard her let out a long breath. “Take the week. It’s a wildfire at the moment, and I need you to hit the ground running when you come back, now that we no longer have the Vanguard girl as leverage. I’ll have a new team ready.”

“No team,” I said quickly, not correcting her about Octavia, and unable to pick apart my feelings about why I hadn’t. “I work better alone, as has been proven recently.”

“That would be unconventional—” she began.

“Because that’s such a change to our normal, is it not?’ I countered. “No team, Erryn.”

“I want an override code for your systems added to The Triarchy’s database this week,” she finally said. “It’s ridiculous that we do not already have one in place.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, then ended the call.

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