Page 78 of Red Demon
He tried to move, to disarm me, but I ducked away, cutting him across the arm.
He inhaled. “Well, the Red Demon wasn’t wrong about your stubbornness. But I don’t share her penchant for treason.”
I rolled my eyes, heart pounding all the while. “You’ll heal quick. And you don’t like gentle, remember?” But he wasn’t wrong. I was committing treason. And if I didn’t play this right, he’d kill me.
There was only one move left.
“I once told you I’d pledge if you could help me kill her. We have a fresh trail now. I failed to kill her on my own, but I still want the same thing. My price is my sword, though.” Still holding Istaran in front, I smiled.
He blinked at me.
“Okay, Fine—we want the same thing, except one.” I dropped a lingering glance at his groin. “I’ll pledge myself to you, for life, if you can promise none of your commands involve fucking you. Is that good enough?”
He crossed his arms with deliberation, my sword still trained on him.
I sighed, realizing he was not going to agree to anything at swordpoint. I handed him the hilt, heart hammering in my ears, watching the blue light fade as he wrapped his muscled hand around the grip. He sheathed it.
I heard running footsteps outside. “Major Mahakal! We need you in command,” a soldier said.
“Tell Havoc I’ll be there in a few minutes, Navarro.” Mahakal’s eyes did not leave me.
“Redsky was just killed at her post, Major,” Navarro said.
Mahakal swore under his breath. He turned to go, remembering me as an afterthought. “You’ll stay here in quarantine until we’re confident about your bloodwork.” He clipped Istaran to his belt. “I’ll find an appropriate use for you afterward.”
Chapter 34
Soldier
Two more soapy buckets and six more meal trays passed before I was allowed to leave the stale air of the quarantine building. Those were a rough two days: I didn’t sleep well, I couldn’t keep much food down, and I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me other than feeling worn out. I’d about given up when I heard a voice on the other side of the bolted door, telling me the medics cleared my bloodwork.
They let me step outside. My eyes watered, adjusting to a sunny winter afternoon. I scanned the military camp—more bustling than I remembered. There, beside the soldier glaring at me, was a face I loved.
“Ash,” I said, a lump in my throat.
He looked rough. Gone was the boy who smiled his way through every practice and the man who hummed his mandolin music as he engraved at his desk. His sun-kissed curls were shorn close to his head, with dirt worn into new lines on his tan face. Yet, when our eyes met, a smile bloomed on his face.
Before I could take another breath, Ash sprinted across the uneven ground with a whoop, his smile exploding into a full-blown grin. Our embrace was fierce, exchanging relief and worry. I felt his calloused hands on my neck as he brought his forehead to mine.
“Jesse. Brother,” he breathed, pulling back but not letting go entirely. “You’re alive. Voids, I … thought I lost you too.”
I squeezed his shoulder, mirroring the unspoken worry in his voice. “I won’t leave you alone. Ever.”
Asher chuckled as he pulled away. “You look sick. Too pale.”
“Born that way, asshole,” I laughed. “Let’s get my pale ass some sun.”
We weaved through the throngs of soldiers, and he filled me in the last few months in whispers. His squad had just gotten back from an attack on a rebel safehouse. He described a cluster of desperate underground rebels, cursing Queen Azara while their skin glowed blue with illegal magic. He felt madness tearing at his mind before they flicked on the magic blockers to take the rebels down.
His head dropped. “Those were clean deaths. But last week, I tracked an Attiq-ka. The machine gives them seizures if they use their magic, but she used her magic knowing she’d die anyway. She wiped out half my squad. It felt like—hammers in my head, loud screaming, until I got a crossbow bolt into her.”
I recognized the tremor in his voice, the forced nonchalance. Haunted eyes. “You alright, Ash?”
He hesitated, then gave a curt nod. “That was one of the easier deaths to live with. My first kill was just a scared kid, maybe fifteen. Dangerous, but voids—” He swallowed. “I killed that kid before he killed me first.” He paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t write home often. I didn’t know what to say.”
A heavy silence descended between us. I wanted to press him, to share the weight he carried, but I knew there was only so much I could take from his shoulders. I’d yet to kill anyone.
“You’re a good man, Ash. Taking out dangerous rebels while I’ve been chasing shadows.”
