Page 121 of Red Demon
I asked her questions to make sure, the things she normally lost. She remembered Riverhawk and Eight, despite them being too unimportant to record in her journal. I asked her which wine she ordered last night, a trick question, since Mira and Ash showed up with it. She remembered.
“How?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’d ask Bria, but she’s not around.”
My head cocked.
“I don’t think she wants a front-row seat to my thoughts right now.”
Her gaze locked on mine, heavy with unspoken desire. I leaned over her, my lips hovering a hair’s breadth from hers.
It was well into late morning before we made it downstairs.
Mira and Asher had set up their workroom in the office, just outside the kitchen. Asher, hunched over a desk, organized meticulous piles of screws and pieces into rows, scribbling in a notebook. Mira, hair a wild halo around her face, tapped away at a tablet beside the code sequencer, with a tray of empty tubes beside it. Soren entered with a crate, bottles of biochemical substrates, and cleaning supplies.
Faruhar crossed her arms. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
Soren set the crate down. “I don’t know. Practice killing demons. Telesilla will be back in a couple of hours.”
“We did some training last night, but I suppose we could head back to the woods for more,” Faruhar said, her voice rougher than usual.
I smiled at her, heat rising in my neck. Voids, this Chaeten-sa was insatiable. Then I caught Asher levying me Taam’s pre-lecture glare.
“What?” I said, as nonchalant as I could manage.
“I just thought once you two … became a couple, you’d stop…” he said, offering vague gestures between the two of us.
“‘Eye-fucking’ is the term you’re looking for, Ash,” Mira said.
Faruhar glared. Soren found somewhere else to be.
Asher sighed his agreement to Mira. “Yeah, you two are worse than before.”
Mira snorted. “If the offer is still open to help, grab some coffee and help label these mod vials.”
A day later, we huddled together like dying embers in a fire, just outside the town where I would turn myself into Mahakal. That was the best plan we had.
Ash wore Istaran on his back, his eyes steady on the snow-laden sky. Faruhar stood statue-still and tense, her eyes imploring me to back down. I’d left my Chaeten leather behind, unarmed.
We’d debated this plan a hundred times since yesterday, each iteration leaving a sour taste in my mouth. Mira and some tech-savvy rebels were already infiltrating a field station to do their part. Telesilla stood with us, tall and steady, as we prepared for ours.
“I still think we should wait,” Faruhar said.
“Again, neither the Underground nor you have a location on Mahakal,” Telesilla said.
“Then I’ll go,” she said. “Jesse can track me with Istaran.”
I shifted in the cold. “They’ll kill you outright, Far. They’re more likely to question me first. Ash agrees.”
Ash grimaced, eyes to the ground.
“Just be fast, Faruhar,” I said. “Listen to those ghosts and come save my ass.”
She clenched a fist at my choice of words, eyes going distant. I regretted letting some of my fear peek through.
“It’s time. Say your goodbyes and take positions,” Telesilla said, her hand going to her forehead, glowing a soft blue.
I offered her an Asri salute, heart and mind. “Thank you for your help, Telesilla.”
