Fury and Flame | 3

3 | 9

G I G I

    
      Neve's rhythmic pacing across the hotel floor was distracting. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing, palms cold—

I couldn't take it anymore. Looking up, I asked, "Is something the matter?"

     She stopped. "Would you care if there was?"

    I found myself hesitating. "It depends."

    "On?"

    I paused, not having a good answer. "If it has something to do with me, just say it."

    "My—my contact went silent," she burst out. "They might have gotten caught. Or killed."

     My heart skittered. Running a hand through my rumpled hair, I said, "Our inside information could be gone. And our mission...could be at its end."

     Neve turned on me again, but this time her face was twisted in anger. "This is more than just a mission for me, Julia. They could be dead. And I know you don't care. But I do. So have some compassion for me, if you can't have it yourself."

     My lips parted, but I said nothing; I hadn't been expecting her to say that. But as she had, I realized how little I knew about her. What if her contact had been a loved one? What if it was her mother? What kind of human didn't care about the slaughter of an innocent? What would my own mother say?

     I know you don't care... Didn't I? I used to. What had happened? Echoes of the word crazy rose in my mind. Crazy, crazy, crazy.

     There was tension in the air before I said, "I'm sorry. I...want to care." The words felt so foreign on my tongue. How long had it been since I'd said such things? Or even admitted them to myself? Then, quieter, "Did you know them well?"

     The rage melted from her features as she slumped against the wall across from me. "Yes. We were close. Once."

     The look on her face was painful for me to look at, even more painful when I recognized it immediately: loss. I wondered if I'd worn that look on my face after my mother's murder. Or if I'd just buried it underneath layers and layers of rage.

     "I'm sorry," I repeated, surprising even myself. "If it turns out they've been killed, we'll make Orion pay."

     "They...they work for Benton," Neve continued, eyes glued to the floor. "If anyone was the murderer, it would be him."

      Neither of us had mentioned his name in weeks—not after he'd made so many empty promises and had used the both of us for his own purposes. And then he'd ditched us in the middle of nowhere. My mother had told me he'd obey me because of my power. But...he'd been able to outmaneuver me every time.

     "Did you know him?" I asked suddenly, watching her closely. "Benton. Did you know him at the fortress?"

     She gave a wry chuckle, like she knew something I didn't. "We all knew about him. He was Orion's second hand, his executioner. Just like—" She paused and I knew she'd been meaning to say Delphinium's name, though I wasn't sure whose sake she'd stopped for: mine or her own. The thought scared me.

"Anyway," she waved her hand, ridding the conversation of any mention of the white-haired assassin. "The first job I went on with him was to break you out of the ONNT's headquarters. I'd never been on such a high-profile mission before. Sure, I'd been given targets to eliminate before, but this was a real chance to prove myself." She wore a small smile and I knew she was looking back on her old self like a fool. "I never ended up proving myself. Not to Orion, anyway.