Page 17 of Dance of the Phoenix
“Damn him,” Zoey bit out once we were in the small Troop-only kitchenette we now had access to. She aggressively uncorked her bottle of A-plus blood and took a long chug.
“He’s right, though,” I said, sipping my B minus. “You could’ve sat this one out and none would be the wiser.” I paused and frowned when she glared at me. “Why did you decide to go up onstage a few days ago?”
Zoey’s glare turned to her blood bottle, and that told me her anger wasn’t directed at either me or George. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, her free hand fisting. “I’m here now, and I have to get stronger in the small amount of time we have.”
I studied her for a few long moments. It didn’t look like she was regretting her decision. Instead, her face showed a panicked desperation.
It made me wonder, not for the first time, about what she had gone through while at the Renaldi League. According to Eleanor, my former Atalon League suitemate, the girls at the Renaldi League were coerced into doing horrifying things. Acting as prostitutes while also killing Lord Renaldi’s adversaries. I doubted any of them were unscathed by trauma.
I wondered what Zoey had been forced to do. How far had Renaldi pushed her in the few weeks she’d spent in his League?
But I knew better than to pry. If Zoey wanted to tell me, she could.
“What about you?” she suddenly asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. She gave me a penetrating look. “Why did you sign up for the show?”
And since I didn’t want to tell her the specifics of the convoluted mess I was in, I gave her a wry smile and said, repeating her own words, “Doesn’t matter.”
Chapter 8
Aileen
By the time the training session with George ended, I was more than ready to crawl into bed and sleep. Unfortunately, I had private training assigned right after, so sleep would have to wait.
I dragged my feet to the cafeteria to get a quick bite, and when I left, Ragnor was waiting for me outside. He was wearing his trench coat, jeans, and combat boots, silver keys held in his hand.
“Hi,” I said, giving him a lame wave that made me feel deeply ashamed of myself. It felt like we hadn’t spoken in far too long, which we hadn’t—not since our strained conversation about my knowing Iovan’s Imperium. He’d been busy, I was pretending to be busy, and so now there was this tension between us that hadn’t been there before.
He nodded toward me, jaw locked. “We’re going out.”
“Not yet,” I wanted to joke, but the humor dissolved into nervousness when I realized Ragnor refused to meet my eyes. He was still pissed about our last conversation, I could tell.
So I said nothing and simply nodded, following him toward the exit of the League.
He led me to a parking lot outside the warehouse where the entrance to the League was, and there he took me to his familiar SUV.Once inside, he turned on the engine and reversed out of the lot, heading toward the main road to go into the city.
Soft music played on the radio, which made the silence between us more bearable but not less tense. I looked outside the window feeling somewhat stifled, as if a pair of invisible hands had wrapped themselves around my neck.
I knew I was the one at fault for this. I’d stupidly let out a hint that I somehow knew Logan and then lied about it. I knew I should apologize and explain what happened.
But telling Ragnor about my history with Logan ... It scared me, even more so than telling him about my father and the horrors he inflicted both on and with me. Because with Logan, the things I’d done were of my own volition. My father hadn’t been there to force me to do anything.
With Logan, the only monster in the room had been me.
And I couldn’t face it. Not now. Perhaps never.
There was no way for me to convey this to Ragnor. He would press me to tell him why I refused to talk about it. It would turn into a constant point of contention between us.
“Aileen.”
I tensed and slowly turned to look at him. Ragnor’s eyes were on the road, but I felt his attention was solely on me. “Yes?”
His hands clenched on the steering wheel. “You’re not asking where we’re going.”
Spine stiffening, I gave him a rigid smile and said, “Will you tell me if I do?”
“There is no reason for me not to,” he replied coolly, and a chill spread through my skin, raising my hairs on end. There was a double meaning there. A dig at my hiding things from him again.
Swallowing hard, I returned my gaze to the window and clamped my mouth shut.
