Page 81 of Darling Wildfire
I knew he was trying to distract me and I let him. I rubbed the back of my neck and threw him a small smile.
“My dad was a big game bow hunter and sharpshooter competitor. I’ve been handling guns since I could walk. I started competing when I was a kid and throughout my teenage years before I enlisted.I still compete occasionally.”
“It shows,” Nyx said, looking impressed which filled me with a warmth I wasn’t expecting at his praise. “That’s where you get your speed from then.”
I nodded. “Comes in handy out there.”
“If Vyper hadn’t made it such a disaster, I would have almost considered today—fun,” Nyx said, a smirk pulled at his lips as he regarded me with those dark eyes where his shadows liked to dance.
“Seriously? You enjoy getting shot at?” That came from Preacher who’d been listening from his place in the armchair.
Nyx turned to him and shrugged. “Sometimes the only way to feel alive is by looking death right in the face.”
Preacher blinked at him and shook his head. “I can see why you’re called Reaper,” he grumbled, but a ghost of a smile flickered across his face before he looked away.
Nyx chuckled. “Something like that,” he said easily.
“Howdidyou get the name?” I asked.
Nyx shrugged. “Ah, it’s not a good story but the cliff notes version is I had the highest kill count on my team and I would usually wear a skeleton face covering when I was just hanging around. One day, the guys were telling a story about a specific job—details aren’t necessary but basically the Grim Reaper was referenced. From then on, I was either Grim or Reaper. You know how those things go—sometimes things just stick.”
That made sense. After seeing him in the field, the way he flirted with death was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. He wasn’t quite reckless; he cared about his team too much for that, but he definitely pushed the line hard. The name fit him.
Preacher grabbed a sandwich and walked over to the girl who’d walked over to the glass doors and was looking out at the landscape as it slowly descended into late afternoon. He handed it to her with a soft smile.
“We’re not going to touch you,” he said. “The last three beds are open if you want one.”
I watched him walk past us to his bed where he lay down and closed his eyes. I looked back at Nyx and he raised his eyebrows at me. I got the message—Preacher was a strange one but not unlikable. He was just a cop who’d found himself in with a bunch of soldiers who barely had morals. He seemed to live his life by a code of some sort and even though he hadn’t hesitated to jump in and kill people, I could tell it didn’t come naturally to him like it did the three of us. Still, he’d survived Vyper and the game, so I was interested to see how he’d fallin with us.
The next morning, a commotion woke us up.
Several guards swarmed into the room followed by Vetticus. I was instantly awake, watching him as he crossed the room to the bed Lana was in. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the middle of the room. I saw the gun in his hand and jumped out of bed at the same time as the others, but the guards pointed their weapons at us and we all froze.
“I see my reward was not appreciated,” Vetticus said, his gaze sweeping the room. The fear was back in Lana’s eyes as she knelt at Vetticus’ side, his fist in her hair. She whimpered as she grasped his wrist with both hands.
Without warning, Vetticus pressed the gun to her head.
He pulled the trigger.
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space and I watched in horror as Lana fell dead onto the rug, blood quickly seeping across the fabric staining it crimson.
“This is what happens when you don’t take advantage of your target after a win,” he nudged the body with his foot. “I have no use for her.”
Vetticus turned and exited as quickly as he’d entered. Two guards dragged the body behind them as they left, leaving us to stare at the puddle of blood in the middle of the floor.
“What the fuck,” I muttered.
“He’s insane,” Preacher exclaimed.
“It’s all about control,” North said quietly.
Nyx and I exchanged a look before he sank back down on his bed.
“Didn’t know he cared about us like that,” he said crassly but the joke was weak, even for him.
It was a good reminder of just how unhinged of a person we were dealing with. It was just one more thing we had to do in order to survive this long enough to get out.
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