Chapter 17
The sky takes on the palette of Arizona itself—beige, yellow, and orange—bleeding together like watercolors.
It is unimpeded by tall skyscrapers; the structures here remain low to the ground to escape the relentless heat.
Here, suburbs bustle in a way many outer cities do not in most places, not with the majority of wealth in the cities proper.
Like their native lizards and snakes, wealth here slithered out from the city centers and back into the population.
Stores are open, roads cheerfully crowded with traffic, and far less military than I’ve seen anywhere this populated.
You can’t turn a block in Manhattan without bumping into a Force member, but all I’ve seen since we crossed the border are tanned, affable citizens.
Miles stretch like a lazy garden cat, sleepy and sprawling. We enter and exit the only city in the state worth noting, quickly losing ourselves in lonelier desert. As the sun settles in for its nightly slumber, Taylor slows down as we approach an unimpressive neighborhood of gray buildings.
“This is it?” No attempt on my part is made to disguise the snobbishness in my voice. Wolfshield fancies herself a technological messiah and, so far, this place hasn’t lived up to that expectation. It’s normal, bordering on mediocre.
“Yeah, this is it,” Taylor says, voice far away again.
We arm ourselves lightly and start down a long road toward another rectangular, gray building.
About halfway between our car and our destination, three people emerge from a windowed checkpoint hut in the center of the road.
With a frustrated sigh, Taylor lifts her arms and nods for me to do the same.
“Who’s that?” a man calls, strangely informal.
“Eos, lieutenant general from the Order of Prometheus,” Taylor replies. “Leader Wolfshield is expecting us.”
“And you?” A woman points a gun at me. Rude.
“Luciana Piccolo. I’m…with them too, I guess.”
The third of them laughs. “No shit? They said Piccolo’s daughter was coming but I thought they were kidding.”
“Would that be considered a funny joke here?” I inquire flatly.
The trio lowers their weapons. “We’ll take you inside. Welcome to the Den.”
As we get closer, I can’t help but chuckle under my breath. Their uniforms are a shimmering gray with triangular white patches on their chest plates. Leader Wolfshield’s dressed her soldiers like wolves. She is committed to a brand, I’ll give her that.
“So, this is the famous Eos,” the woman says. “I thought you’d be bigger.”
“The way Hunter talks about you, I expected you to be six feet tall and come flying in here with a cape,” another adds on.
Taylor perks up. “You talked to her?”
“Well, yeah.” They chuckle at her surprise. “What did you think, Leader Wolfshield locked her in a dungeon?”
“I don’t know. She did abduct her from our home.”
Their chuckles die out, and one of them shrugs. “Guess that’s true. But you don’t need to be worried. We aren’t like the other regions.”
“No,” I say, mood plummeting with every step. “You would never mistreat someone, not in your grand land of plenty which you never shared.”
“Lucy.”
I shoot Taylor a glare. “What? People starve everywhere, and Wolfshield’s never spared so much as a thought to anyone else.”
“Neither has Piccolo,” the woman chimes in, and at least they’ve stopped smiling.
“Yeah, but my father never claimed to be the kind of person Wolfshield thinks she is. He’s an asshole, but at least he’s upfront about it.”
“Looks like it runs in the family,” a soldier replies.
“Oh, fuck off.”
As we near the glass door entrance, Taylor holds out her arm for me to stop. “Soldiers, give me a moment to talk with Miss Piccolo, please?” They nod and enter through the doors, speaking to each other in low tones on the other side of the glass. Taylor peers up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” My lying is effortless.
“They are smug and I have had about enough of bearing the brunt of everyone’s attitudes toward my father.
Soon he will be dead and everyone can shut the fuck up.
” Arms crossed, I shrug. “It’s not easy, okay?
This is a reminder of the life I’ll never have again: a family, a region, a home.
And she gets to have it all. She gets everything.
She gets to have what I want and it isn’t fair, okay? ”
She reaches out. “Lucy—”
“Don’t.” I step away from her potential grasp. “Wouldn’t want your new friends to think you are on the wrong side. ‘Miss Piccolo’ will do.”
Clearly wounded, she nods solemnly. “As you wish.”
If I possessed every shooting star in the sky, I wouldn’t use a single one to wish for this. “Let’s not keep your partner waiting any longer.”
Brow creased, she opens the door for me and we follow the others down the hallway.
Gray slate turns into high-gloss white walls as we burrow farther into the compound.
Finally, they usher us into a room and close us in, alone.
Every surface is a creamy white, fluorescent lights pinging off the waxy reflections and illuminating the room like the inside of an opened refrigerator.
A long, sleek metal table sits proudly in the center of the room flanked by twelve chairs, perfectly poised in two neat rows.
Bare and antiseptic, clean and reflective, except for one wall boasting a black television screen many feet across, which flickers to life as we near it.
After Wolfshield’s symbol flashes, the woman herself appears in full Technicolor.
She looks older than I remember, but still as stately and imposing.
Her pin-straight black hair curtains her face on both sides, down past her breasts to dangle over her stomach.
Wherever she is, she’s standing in a white room as well.
Her gray ladies’ suit contrasts the white background, giving her the appearance of a wolf in snow.
“Soldiers, I’m glad you got here safely.”
“Yeah, the welcoming committee was a nice touch,” I reply with an eye roll.
Leader Wolfshield chuckles and looks at me through the screen. “I’m not a woman who takes chances.”
“Where is Hunter?” Taylor doesn’t waste any time, fingers itching near her holster.
“Truly Theia’s girl, aren’t you? First, you will disarm and place your weapons on the table in the center of the room. Second, once you’ve been cleared, my soldiers will escort you into the next room and we will discuss negotiations.”
“Nothing happens until I see Hunter,” Taylor says. “I will not disarm until I know she is alive and unharmed.”
Patricia’s eyes glance off-screen. “You did say she was stubborn. Come here.”
Of course, Hunter is the most striking woman I’ve ever seen.
She’s somewhere between mine and Taylor’s height, with gorgeous black-brown hair waving down from her scalp and twisting over her right shoulder, glimmering against the lights.
A pair of wide-set, penetrating brown eyes sit beneath long lashes, her skin a flawless olive tone.
Her physique is like Taylor’s, athletic and strong.
She must be in what passes for a casual uniform for them, gray pants and a slouchy white shirt, which falls carelessly off her shoulder.
When her eyes meet Taylor’s through the screen, she gifts us a megawatt smile. “Long time no see, kid.”
Taylor makes barely audible noises and disarms without taking her eyes off the television. “Miss Piccolo, disarm, please.”
As promised, two soldiers enter the room from an unseen door in the wall and pat us down.
One of them is a handsome Native American man, built like a brick house.
His bulletproof vest exposes rippling muscles with stark black tattoos.
The other soldier is a stern, equally muscled woman with a shaved head, equipped with a snub-nosed pistol.
“All clear,” she says.
The handsome soldier motions toward the door with a thick, double-barrel shotgun in his hands. “Let’s go.”
“Escort them into my room, please.” The television screen goes black.
A secret entrance in the wall leads down a darkened corridor to another surprise door, which opens with an electric whoosh. In place of the bare white décor, the walls are a warm brown with traditional artifacts tastefully hung throughout. Incense wafts around us, though I don’t see any burning.
But truly, none of what’s in the room matters until Hunter walks in. Then, she’s all that matters.
She’s more beautiful in person. Her gravity draws the attention of everyone when she enters and renders us nothing but orbiting satellites. Taylor stands at my side, extremities twitching. Patricia enters after Hunter and speaks in whispers to the remaining soldier.
“Get over here.” Hunter inspects her younger partner, dragging her eyes up and down Taylor’s body with an affectionate grin. “Damn, not such a kid anymore.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“These lightweights?” Hunter gestures toward the brawny gentleman brooding in the corner and chuckles. “Please. Now, come on, it’s been two years. Break the rule for me, huh?”
She pulls Taylor close and hugs her tightly around the shoulders.
Taylor doesn’t look as awkward in this hug as she has in others.
She tucks her head beneath Hunter’s chin and holds on.
The only sound in the room is my selfish heart breaking into a million pieces.
A pain so exquisite, so pure and undiluted, I could bottle and sell it.
Hunter squeezes Taylor, and a tear or two spills out into Taylor’s hair. They stand like that for a while, in an embrace that looks like the setting of the sun into the water. A perfect fit. It’s so intimate I want to avert my eyes, but I couldn’t possibly look away.
“A rare Taylor hug. You really did miss me.”
“I’m happy you’re safe.” She casts a wary glance at Wolfshield and lowers her voice. “I am sorry I let this happen to you, and I am sorry I could not get here sooner. Theia wouldn’t let me.”