CHAPTER 42

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I kept wracking my brain for an explanation that made sense, because ever since Demi mentioned a spy, I could think of nothing else. I felt blindly guilty, as if I had to have been the leak, but when I really thought through it, that didn't make sense. I might not remember my four months as a captive, but the bits and pieces I did recall never showed me spilling any secrets. Besides, if I'd revealed the rebellion's base, wouldn't I have also revealed the Syndicate's as well? It just didn't add up.

If I'd told Bay about the rebellion, then he wouldn't have waited this long to attack. Hell, he would have wiped them all out while I was still hanging by chains, and I never would have known. Sure, it was awfully convenient that they found us at the warehouse, but I did remember someone saying that the Con Rồng had almost tripled the frontline soldiers. Bay had eyes everywhere looking for me after I disappeared, so someone probably saw me and recognized me.

I was even willing to bet the Fer-de-Lance were the ones who tipped them off even. Diego wouldn't know that, since he'd been with us, and the rest of them were too secretive to say anything either way, but it was likely their spy had died when the warehouse blew. If they didn't, then I got the sense the Con Rồng lost their trust when they set the charges and killed their leader.

So no, it didn't make any sense that I would be the leak, logically there was no way, but that just left more blank pages. If it wasn't me, who was it? It definitely wasn't Logan, I was confident in that. He was never alone for long, so even though he was hiding the fact he could speak perfectly fine, I trusted he'd never betray the rebellion. What's more, he would never in a million years betray Bryn. So he wasn't the leak either.

A fraction of my mind was almost desperate enough to blame Demi's cousin, Efren, but I honestly didn't get that feeling from him. He may have been a hot tempered moron, but he didn't give off a very malicious energy. Just reckless and stupid, and he was a kid, so that actually made a lot of sense. He was out, too.

"How's he looking?" Bryn's question tugged me from my musings, and I lifted my head to glance at the back of his seat before turning to where Tobias was sitting between myself and Adalard.

His shirt was buttoned down, coat pulled off to hang on his knee, and tie hanging undone around his neck. The left shoulder of his shirt had been pulled down enough so he could slip his arm free, allowing Adalard the room he needed to reach the wound on his back.

"Not bad, but not good. The blood is clotting as it should, but there's bits of debris like splinters and glass stuck in his skin, and those are going to be tedious to get out when Adalwolf can stitch him up. I'm doing what I can with my limited experience and these handy tweezers against this bumpy car ride, but from what I can tell, this was caused by something rough and unrefined. Maybe a splintered board that flew from the house when the bomb crushed it. It'll take a while to recover."

"I get the suspicion I don't have the time for a relaxing recovery," Tobias noted grimly, his right hand holding my left, squeezing my fingers, "Here I was so ready to go home..."

"Changed your mind?" Bryn asked, and Tobias hummed.

"Something just doesn't seem right about this situation. I don't think I want to leave the rebellion now that they've split up," he lifted his head, "What are the coordinates?"

Bryn held up the paper, "Not sure. It's just miles in certain directions, turn this way at this marker, things like that."

"Did you tell Marlisa?"

"No, but since they're following us I didn't think I needed to know," Bryn answered, folding the paper up and slipping it into his pocket, "Better safe than sorry at this point..."

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