Chapter 26 #4
“What about them?” Soren asked, like a petulant child asking if their father was going to take their sibling’s toy too.
Peter turned to face us. “You will prove useful close to camp. At least until we have an answer from the Emperor and movement on these negotiations. Enough that it will be seen as an outright act of aggression, not some wartime accident, if either of you is injured.” Clearly, Ford and I both didn’t seem pleased by that plan, because Peter added on, “Unless the prospect of either of dying is fun to imagine?”
“That’s just cruel,” I pouted, slumping down in my seat with crossed arms. If nothing to create a physical cage against my chest, lest my heart beat right out of it. Peter knew what he was doing saying that and the Bond was very, very displeased.
“There is no reason you should be gallivanting off into the woods right now.” Peter’s tone left no room for argument, though I wanted to. “You can stay here and assist with whatever you want to do. Or take a day to sleep, for God’s sake.”
That did sound nice, especially since I wasn’t compelled to launch myself out the window after spending an hour alone with Ford anymore.
“And,” Peter said, drawing the words out to make clear he was inviting no argument, “I’m putting trackers back on all of you.”
A chorus of protests erupted in the room, save for Bellamy who sat there with a furrowed brow.
"I don’t want to hear it!” Peter snapped, promptly shutting us all up. “I only took these off in the first place because things were slowing down around here and I trusted all of you to take care of yourself.”
Said trackers had been promptly slapped on us after Ford’s capture. Not on everyone, just on the select few soldiers the Empire deemed precious enough to invest in. It wasn’t even that advanced of technology, but the Empire would cut costs where they could.
A little patch, placed in your hair or some other location that could easily obscure it. Nothing invasive.
Naturally, we all hated them.
Freya and Peter had gotten in no less than five arguments over her rides.
Soren used to try and ditch his, hiding it in the cabin just to spite Peter.
I’d always secretly been a fan, especially if something happened to Ford again and I didn’t have the benefit of the Bond to help me find him.
How silly I’d been, thinking I didn’t care for him.
I knowww, the Bond cried.
“Where am I even going to put it?” Soren asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d shaved his, once very princely, hair into a tight buzz a couple years ago.
“Up your—”
“You choose, I don’t care,” Peter said, cutting off Ford’s snide comment. “Just wear them. Surely you all recognize this is more important than your whining, yes?”
Everyone grumbled their agreement, dutifully applying the trackers.
Ford helped me with mine, threading his hands through my hair while he did so. It felt so good, it was a miracle I was able to keep quiet.
When I offered to do the same, Ford bent to whisper in my ear, “If I feel your hands in my hair right now, we are going to have a real problem.”
“We already have a problem,” I grumbled, earning a short bark of laughter from him that made my chest swell with pride.
Soren opted to shove his down his boot. I was pretty sure Freya used some slight of hand and ditched hers.
I was about to call her on it, knowing it wasn’t the time to bristle at being watched, but was cut off by a crisp knock at the door.
“Come in, Ella,” Peter called to his Match, recognizing her from the rap of her knuckles alone.
Ella ducked her head through the door, slipping a folded note through. “Shipment run this morning, brought this back from the Emperor. He’s requesting an audience with his daughter.”
“He’s on the base?” Bellamy said, whipping around to face Ella with wide eyes.
Ella nodded once, a little stiffly. “On his way.”
“Shit, okay.” Bellamy’s voice wavered a bit, like she wasn’t expecting for this to all come to a head so soon. God only knew what her father wanted to talk to her about.
“Probably trying to goad us into a press run,” Soren said, rubbing a hand down Bellamy’s back in a calming motion. The way her body immediately relaxed at his touch would have made me a little nauseous if I hadn’t experienced that same phenomenon in recent days.
“We need to pack.” Bellamy’s voice was still distant and she was out of there a second later, immediately launching into planning mode. Soren was on her heels before she even got moving.
Peter and Freya followed in a train—Peter already talking in a speed only Ella could decipher and Freya hot on his heels, probably desperate to just get outside.
That left me and Ford.
I stood, turning to him with a smile, a comment about us being alone on the tip of my tongue. It never made it past that point, ripped away by the expression on Ford’s face.
His skin had gone ghostly white, his eyes hardened into emeralds. Utterly confused, I followed his line of sight to the floor, only to gasp in horror.
When Bellamy had fled, she’d dropped the file she’d been holding, scattering photographs of my face, bloodied and bruised after Ford’s rescue, all over the floor.