I, Human

Fate of The Fallen | The Ugly Truth

As it turned out, Nikita—for indeed, a woman as enamoring as herself demanded an equally captivating name—and Hannah were not actual sisters. They had, however, escaped from the same... pleasure house together. Phillip supposed that inherently granted them a bond deeper than most families could afford. Even the strongest of bonds can only be pulled so far before they snap. Phillip had seen that happen firsthand and that made him qualified to assert that the reason Hannah was promptly gagged and bound was not a contentious relationship.

For whatever reason, they had converted Hannah's kitchen into their bullpen. Oliver stood outside the ruined door and Nikita arranged herself in the middle of a semicircle of furniture. Daniel was directly in front of her, a storm front before a siren, and Hannah was tied to a chair to his left. That left Philip with a tall stool but a great view of Hannah's wrecked kitchen.

Nikita clapped her hands. She was beautiful and poised but there was still a certain... roughness about her. "The plan is simple. We find and we steal the monster."

"Why?" Philip asked.

"Why would I be interested in that?" Daniel grumbled.

And whatever Hannah meant to say came out as a muffled mess. She didn't thrash or display intent to harm her body. No, her gibberish did all that for her—Philip even picked up a couple of swear words.

"Why do we want to steal the monster?" Nikita stepped forward and Philip gulped, fighting the urge to look away. "Let me ask you a question. Can you imagine what would happen if the Empire cracked its secrets? If the Ministry got its hands on it." She pointed to Hannah, keeping a level voice. "That thing around her neck is proof. They aren't going to hand it over to the sick or the bedridden."

She paused and the realization that bloomed in Philip nearly made him gag. The scene of the monster's death came unbidden to his mind. Like a portion of a play, sliced out of reality only to be pulled back and forth before his eyes. He knew what the empire would do with such power. Soldiers that fall to neither rifle nor sword marching across the known world. Mainland China, Poland, Arabia, India—Lord! They could reclaim the United States. All that land, paid for in blood that never ceased to flow.

A different man might be proud—a better man even—but Philip knew the earth was round. There was only so far the lion's head could go before it came back to bite its own arse. Daniel seemed to understand this as well—Philip recognized the shake of his hand, itching for a pipe. And even Hannah had calmed down.

The four of them—five if Oliver was to be counted—stayed in silence for a while, a shared understanding of horrible things. Daniel broke it first, a derisive snort to shatter the silence.

"Why should we believe you? An ostracized engineer and a Russian immigrant." He spat the words in a fashion that was supposed to be venomous but he was too shaken to have any bite. "Why do you want to throw a wrench in the Empire's works? What would you gain from it?"

Nikita responded by straightening herself and raising a hand to her throat. Phillip watched intently and when she started to unbutton her blouse, looked away with matching intensity.

"Don't look away. See, see what happens to those Her Majesty can't be bothered to care about."

Philip moved his gaze—with more eagerness than he would ever admit—to her bare torso and almost turned inside out from the shock. Her breasts caught his eye first. Twin mountains of mottled flesh weathered by scars similar to those that made the geography of her body complete. Phillip's eyes danced from something that could only be achieved if someone had taken a rake to her stomach to puckered scars on the sides of her left breast. He danced from scar to deformity to things that made the ever-tightening knot in his stomach grow taut as a bowstring.