Page 4 of Love, Nemesis
Ana had no choice but to act.
“It’s unfortunate. It will take months to undo what you’ve done,” Hailey continued.
And even if you find the cavern, everything is crushed to dust, Ana thought to herself. She’d made sure of that.
“It’s tragic, really,” Hailey said. “I’ve run into groups sabotaging our efforts to recover war secrets. I’ve executed my fair share, but I never imagined they’d come from inside the State. I imagined we would have trained those En Sanctan superstitions out of you.”
With his tone, she almost thought he was disappointed, but his eyes always told the real story. They were distant, as if the world to him was nothing more than manikins draped in a patchwork quilt.
Hailey stared out the window for a long time. Ana knew that her judgment was imminent. He’d taken his time to set the stage, say all he could say, and pave the path of her wrongdoings.
“I have reinstated you. I’m sending you to kill Ares,” he said after a long while.
Ana felt terror coil silently in her stomach, her insides twisting as her body remained in perfect stillness.
He looked over his shoulder when she didn’t respond.
How could she?
Ares was now a traitor to the State, but once, he’d been a legendary general of the Numbers military, and with more documented kills than any Statesman in history, he’d become a symbol of death. She could be dangerous, but Ares was death. In sending her off, Hailey was disposing of her quietly.
She’d once been touted as a hero, commended even by Hailey himself in a public setting. He couldn’t execute her publicly. What would people say about the woman who’d tricked the Sub-Var? What would people then say about the Sub-Var?
“I have a contact in the town of Richter, Evira Beaumont. She will tell you how to find him.”
Ana continued to stare forward.So, is this how I’ll die? One of Ares’s bullets through my head?It would be painless, at least.
Hailey continued speaking, but Ana felt withdrawn, as if she were watching the scene from a distance. Her eyes drifted to thekitchen counter, where a tiny figurine was inconspicuously lined up beside a jar of whole walnuts and a small spool of twine. She pretended that the figurine was a dancer.
As a girl, she’d loved dance—much preferred it to fighting. It had seemed so elegant, something she had imagined she was learning instead of mastering her body for violence.
Unfortunately, dancing couldn’t save people. She’d once dreamed of a world where maybe it could. Peace could be earned through dance instead of bloody noses, cracked skulls, and broken bones. It had been a silly notion of a girl trying to be something different from what she’d needed to be. It was almost comical now as she thought of taking a bullet, a justifiable punishment, perhaps, for letting a mine cave in on soldiers she’d called comrades.
She hadn’t intended for them to die.But I let it happen, didn’t I?
Lost in the moment, she didn’t react when Hailey snapped toward her, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her against the wall behind her.
“Look at me,” he hissed. And she did, watching those eyes that were simultaneously angry and dead. She’d just done something she’d been guilty of plenty of times before, escaping into her mind and out of the other person’s control.
People never liked that. Hailey, she supposed, least of all.
With his next words, he enforced his authority again, hands coiling around her gown, knuckles pressed into her upper thigh like a threat that he could go further. He turned her chin as hetwisted her throat, staring her down as if to assure himself he once again had her full attention.
“You’re almost beautiful,” he said, forcing her head back as his lips lingered near her temple.
She didn’t flinch.
I dare you,she thought, but Hailey seemed to know better. Not because she would fight him. More because she would not. A body was just a tool, just skin and bones and sinew. That’s all he could ever touch. He could never reach her soul with his fingertips, never grip her spirit in his hands.
However, Hailey was a quick learner of people’s vulnerabilities, and as if sensing the lack of fear his attack stirred, he struck elsewhere.
His other hand traveled down to the hem of her shirt, and he grazed the old brand seared into the skin over her collarbone. It had aged since childhood, but even though she was now free, it hadn’t lost its meaning. “Beautiful for a slave,” he whispered. “You might have come to the State, but you’ll always be an En Sanctan slave. Tell me, Ana. What did the Strike do to you? How were you forced to serve them?” His words burned. “What kinds of things did they make you do?”
Ana’s eyes fluttered to Hailey’s, and without fear, she whispered, “They taught me how to see monsters.”
She knew Hailey sensed the insult in her eyes.
“Don’t forget you have friends,” he said, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath.
