Piper Cross, an undercover spy, must relive her past as a child gladiator in order to bring the underground arena to justice.
*****
Growing up gladiator is brutal. The cells are cramped...
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"You came back," Sail said, grabbing the edge of the table. The chair legs gouged furrows into the carpet as he stood up.
"There wasn't a window in the bathroom to escape through," I said wryly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I'm still upset with you, but not enough to waste what little time we have left together. Does that make sense?"
Sail pressed a kiss against the inside of my palm. "Yeah," he said, his trademark sheepishness making an appearance. Now that I was looking for it, though, I could see the glimmer of an ulterior motive in his sea-blue eyes, a shadow of a fish darting just below the wavering surface, there and gone in an instant. "What do you want to eat?"
I pulled out my chair and sat down across from him, flipping the menu shut. "I already asked for the share-platter on my way back. So you couldn't slip in anything extra," I added, noting the twitch in his jaw as I batted my eyelashes. "Call me old fashioned, but I don't like having my stuff spiked."
Sail winced; he hadn't quite thought about it like that. "Sorry."
"It's okay," I lied. "I was thinking about what you said earlier. About Isaac."
"Yeah?"
"Do you really think we could turn a new leaf?"
So far, all our dealings had been purely business: he produced cash through some mysterious (and probably elicit) means, and I phoned him the location of an esky filled with blood bags, so the hybrids under his wing needn't hunt the locals to get their fix. I suspected they were based near the city, but he kept the doors between our minds shut tight and evaded my questions with the same agility he fought for his life with. The only time we'd actually talked about anything serious was when he was fishing for news of what happened to Sail, and I foolishly looped him in, thinking it would invite him to open up about his own problems.
If anything he'd shut down afterward, going as cold as the day he tried to kill Dean. I hadn't liked the flatness in Isaac's tone when he asked for the names and descriptions of the hybrids who forced me to turn. I wondered, now, if it was wise to give him both; Isaac was technically an enemy of the state, after all, and had committed countless atrocities in our father's employ over the years. It was those very crimes that Chance Nightshade wanted to try him for; while those initially inducted into her ranks were afforded full amnesty, she hadn't taken kindly to those who dared to decline. Every pack in the state had been given the order to apprehend any unregistered hybrid and bring them into custody.
I supposed that made me an insurgent, of sorts.
Sail hummed quietly to himself as he mulled it over. "I think it'll take time," he ventured, "but yes. If he was selfish and cruel, why would he take on the burden of all those hybrid kids? It can't be easy making ends meet when you have to stay hidden at the same time."
The blood bags certainly didn't come cheap. I sighed, wishing I could give them away for free, but my own designated supply wouldn't even make a dent in the amount Isaac needed, and Daina's henchman were ruthless as car salesmen.
