Chapter 70 #3
“I wouldn’t exactly say I’m with that pathetic sod,” he said.
“Rather, we share a common goal: Steal a morazir’s sword—how generous of you to distract its wielder for us.
Hijack a drozekar—it means world crusher in the common tongue, by the way.
Eliminate Airik of the Jortag clan—whose grotesquely good sense for survival ends today.
” He went on, “Then, god willing, I’ll have gained enough of our blessed leader’s good graces to move on with my fucking life and get thousands of light-years away before the galactic apocalypse that’s bound to ensue—”
As he rambled, his eyes lost focus, as if searching the floor for something. Then he caught himself and shot her a look just as she began to sniff. “Have I said something to upset you? Oh, little doll, please don’t cry…”
The threat of apocalypse hardly registered. She hadn’t realized she’d started to cry until he’d mentioned it, but now she could feel the hot tears on her cheeks, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.
Only Airik remained.
I am chased by death. Even now.
Her leg started to bounce, and with no way to hold it down, she stomped it hard, the metal floor ringing with the force.
The woman beside her stirred, knocked out of unconsciousness by a coughing fit. Her figure, completely covered by the dirty cloak, wretched forward with each cough, thick with phlegm.
“Breathe through it, darling.” Iver knelt beside the woman. “Like I showed you the last time.” He raised an arm, slowly reaching for her.
A faint crackle sounded from the collar, and his hand froze, stuck and vibrating in midair. He let out a noise, something between a huff and a growl, falling back on his haunches. His arm dropped, dead and useless by his side. “Water,” he ground out. “Where is it? Not for me. For her.”
The woman clutched at her throat, eyes pinched shut.
Nora swallowed, her anger and fear going down like grit and glass. “In the back. Let me go. I’ll get it.”
Iver’s jaw clenched as he stood, heading toward the back. “I’m sorry, but no. Better for you. Better for me.” He shrugged, indicating his arm swinging uselessly at his side. “My life is currently conditional, I’m afraid.”
An unusually cold breeze swept in from the open ramp. Nora felt sick, overwhelmed by the smell of sweet flowers that, just days earlier, she had wanted to bottle up and keep forever, because it had become the scent of Airik and her.
The woman coughed, reaching for her own wrist. She fumbled clumsily to find each bead of her bracelet, feeling them as if they were a rosary and she were praying for relief.
Her fingernails were painted bright, glittery red, like Christmas ornaments.
Most of them were broken and chipped, but the color still clung.
It hadn’t been long since she’d been taken from her life.
Taken. A memory of a panicked woman’s voice uttering that word over and over hit Nora like a truckload of bricks. The caller from Loretta’s radio show had said the exact words about the family that had gone missing in the middle of the night. Taken.
They’ve been taken! I bet it was one of the Ascended… He was so beautiful—like an angel…
Fear shot down Nora’s spine. Surely the angels weren’t…literal.
Shaking herself from unhinged thoughts, she turned to the woman. “I’m Nora,” she said, trying to smile. “Were you…taken from Earth? You don’t need to worry. Because when my—”
“Don’t bother,” Iver said, returning with several bottles. “She doesn’t speak. Won’t or can’t—I’m not yet sure.”
He placed a bottle on the bench beside her, straining against the warning buzz of the collar. “Get up, darling,” he said, his voice suddenly soft. “You know I can’t give this to you. But you’re strong enough to pick it up yourself, aren’t you?”
Barely able, the woman turned, gripping the bottle with both hands. Her hands couldn’t separate because of the cuff’s magnetism, and she was forced to awkwardly hold it with her outstretched fingers.
Iver stepped back, allowing the woman to drink.
The crackling around his throat grew quiet.
“That’s it, sweetness,” he said, strangely tender for a man who had just promised the end of days.
“Maybe now you’ll give me that voice of yours.
I’ve been such a good boy waiting for it, haven’t I? Don’t you think I deserve it now?”
The woman threw the bottle at Iver with surprising force. It struck his knee before falling to the floor, spilling water everywhere. Then, as if all her energy had been drained, she slumped against the wall, turning away from both of them.
“Glad to see your spunk’s still intact,” Iver said. “My day isn’t complete without you making some attempt on my life.”
“Is it… Is it kudra?” Nora asked.
“I certainly hope not—that would break my atrophied little heart.” Iver glanced over Airik’s things.
He stopped at the small black pouch, his brows raising in interest. “No, she’s dying from a disease known as ‘being in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ complicated by her pre-existing condition of ‘wretched luck.’” He gave Nora a pointed look.
“Sadly for you, little doll, it’s quite contagious. My condolences.”