Page 46 of Red Demon
He tried to lace a kiss on my neck, but I ducked away, unwrapping the twine on the burlap package with irritated swiftness. A sword, Chaeten steel of good quality, the blade dull. A small green LED blinked in slow rhythm on the grip, but when I touched it, nothing happened.
“What in the black void is this?” I turned the weapon over in my hands, the polished grip feeling cold against my skin. “Our shop makes better.”
Kane shrugged with a hint of unease that mirrored my own. “Maybe he’ll activate it for you when you start?” He smiled at my lips, then leaned in to whisper in my ear. “I’m so glad you’re pledging. I’m shipping out with Mahakal too. I’d love your bunk next to mine.”
My breath hitched. “I’m in no mood right now, Kane. I told Mahakal no.” The metallic tang of anger rose in my throat, but it wasn’t Kane’s fault.
He just looked confused. “He’s immortal, Jesse. Whether you mean fucking him or joining the unit, either way, missed opportunity.”
I could no longer mask my disgust. “Get the fuck out of here, Kane.” I stormed back upstairs, relaxing a bit when the door dinged closed.
He didn’t take the stupid sword back with him, so I brought it upstairs to stare at the audacity of it, wanting to hurl it into the wall to confirm that dull piece of shit couldn’t dent granite. I made tea instead. The door chime sang again. Slow footsteps plodded up the stairs.
Galen ambled by the window, framed in the pollen-dusted sunlight. Despair hung on my taam’s face where his smile lines usually cut parallel to Asher’s. Dread seeped the warmth from that summer day.
“What’s wrong?”
He didn’t speak, just shook his head and shuffled toward the worn bench. The weight he carried didn’t seem to ease as he sat, staring in dull silence across the small kitchen.
I grabbed a mug, the clay warm where it hung by the kettle, and poured him a cup of the catnip and mint tea I’d been brewing, the bubbling whisper frantic. His hand shook beside the cup.
“Taam, what’s wrong?”
A low breath. “The barrack is done with us. For good. The governor sat me down with Major Ryder to give me the news.”
My stomach clenched. The North Barrack was, by far, our top client. Without them… “Why?” I asked, the question laced with the panic that had been rising in me since before Galen stepped into the door.
“They’ve built a forge in the Bend, planning to use tech they only want Z’har knowing about. Offered me a job there if I pledge.”
“Pledge?” Disbelief warred with shadows. “They want you to become Z’har?”
A grimace twisted Galen’s lips. “I told them I prefer my freedom. While I have no trouble seeing myself as a servant to the people, I won’t be a slave, told where to sleep and when to rise.” He cast a curious glance at the wrapped weapon on the table. “What’s that?”
I unfurled the cloth. “Delivery from Mahakal. It’s shit, as far as I can tell.”
Galen picked up the blade, studying the tech-infused hilt. “It’s probably work from the new forge, although I don’t understand what he’s trying to say.”
“An insult? A power play? Does it matter which?” I spat. “And why was the governor getting involved in all this?” Then I remembered what Governor Solonstrong said at dinner. He felt it was his job to ensure my talents didn’t go to waste, that he’d do anything to ensure they didn’t.
My mouth went dry. He’d done just that.
Galen shook his head, his features numb, then took a deep meditative breath. “I’ll see if Oria will listen, although I’m not sure I’ve ever been that good at hearing them speak.” Another deep breath. “Ash has his mother’s ears though.”
“I’ll fetch him,” I said, wrapping the weapon to carry with me. Maybe he or Mira could make sense of it.
Chapter 22
Galen’s Son
Ijogged to the greenhouse lab, fuming in the afternoon heat as I passed the market booths and white-washed homes on the way. The air felt stifling until I burst through that door into the climate-controlled greenhouse, the wrapped sword still clutched in my hand.
Mira looked up from Asher’s shoulder with red, wet eyes. Their startled glances locked with mine. They separated. Ash slumped against the frosted glass wall without so much as a hello.
“What happened?” My question echoed. I set down the blade on the table.
“Jesse,” Mira started, her voice barely a whisper. “My father has given me an ultimatum. I have to leave in a week.”
My brow furrowed. “Leave? Where?”
