Chapter Fourteen: A Shady Feather on White Wings

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Kinsley

The head rebel leads Kinsley through the White Angel camp. She is well aware of the extreme number of rebels watching her closely as she passes and the fact that all of their hands reach for their sword and dagger hilts.

She decides to put her attention elsewhere. Let them be scared of her. It's just a boost for her ego, not that she needs it.

"You're a bit young to be a general," she tells the espresso rebel. "What are you? Twenty?"

Espresso Rebel remains silent, not missing a step.

Kinsley frowns. "I'm thinking twenty-one. You look like you could drink, but you're too serious about your position that you choose not to."

Silence.

"So, where is your leader? Are we going to his tent or something?"

He snorts. "You really think I would bring you to where he sleeps?"

Kinsley stops following him. Instead, she marches in front of him and forces him to stop. "Okay, look. I don't give a shit if you think I'm going to single-handedly kill your whole camp. I gave you my sword and my dagger and let you frisk me—which, if I was planning on killing everyone, I'd start with that guy because he was a bit too touchy—so if you still think I'm a treat, then you're thinking way too highly of me."

He stares at her, his dark brown eyes glaring at her and trying to tear into her soul.

His voice comes in almost a growl. "Would you like to talk to him or not? He won't wait for you."

Kinsley holds his glare for a few more seconds to show him that he doesn't intimidate her, then she grins and steps out of his way. "Please, lead the way."

He doesn't smile, but he starts walking again.

He leads her through the rest of the camp and they enter the forest again.

"Forest. Smart," she comments. "Watchers in the trees and it's easy for him to escape if needed."

Espresso Rebel remains quiet.

"So, what's your real name?"

He stops. "Wait here."

She mock salutes him. "Yes, sir, General."

He frowns at her, but Kinsley swears she saw his lips twitch.

"Kinsley!" a man's voice says her name and in instinct, her hand reaches for her sword—which isn't there. She sighs and turns toward the source.

A middle-aged man wearing a tan jacket over a brown and orange flannel stands with a welcoming smile.

"Hello, Kinsley. My name is Caesar. I was informed that you would like to speak with me." The White Angel leader walks in a semicircle around her. She quickly takes note of his slight limp and when he stands still, how he favors his left leg.

"Daniel, have you confiscated Kinsley's weapons?"

For a second, Kinsley wonders who the hell Daniel is, then she follows Caesar's gaze to Espresso Rebel.

Daniel doesn't look directly at her, but she grins at him, knowing he's watching her from the corner of his eye.

"Yes, sir," he answers.

Caesar nods. "Go retrieve them for her." He turns to Kinsley. "She is not a threat, she is a friend."

Kinsley narrows her eyes, not exactly liking the word choice.

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