Chapter 2 – AZAREL #2
His face is bruised, one eye swollen shut, but there's no mistaking that defiant glare. We grew up together, trained together. He was there the day I took my oath to protect Surhiira at all costs. And now here he is, on his knees before me, wearing the uniform of our enemy.
Just like I am.
The irony isn't lost on me.
Maybrecht's eyes bore into me, searching for any flicker of recognition. "Well, General Vesper? Do you know these rats?"
"I recognize the one on the right," I say. "We served together. Before."
Maybrecht's lips curve into a smile. "How interesting.
It truly is a small world, isn't it?" Something in his tone makes me quite certain he already knew this was a reunion, not an introduction.
He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
"I'm in a generous mood today, so I'll give you a choice.
You may spare one of these infiltrators and execute the other.
Since you know one of them, it should be an easy decision. Consider it a test of your loyalty."
This is his favorite game, and he has many. Forcing impossible choices, reveling in the pain and conflict they cause.
But I've danced this dance before.
I know the steps by heart.
I draw my gun with my left hand, my right still wrapped in bandages from when that Vrissian snake put a bullet through it. The weight of the weapon is still unfamiliar in my off-hand, but I've adapted quickly.
"Remove their gags," Maybrecht says, his voice cold and detached. "It's unsporting to refuse a man his last words."
The guards comply, yanking the cloth from the prisoners' mouths. The one I don't recognize in the medic's fatigues immediately starts pleading.
"Please," he begs, his voice cracking. Snot bubbles from his broken nose. "I was just following orders. I'll tell you everything I know, just please?—"
Arun cuts him off with a harsh laugh. "Pathetic," he spits, turning his one good eye to me. "Keep your mercy, traitor. I'd rather die than live owing my life to scum like you."
I feel Maybrecht's eyes on me, gauging my reaction. Waiting to see if I'll flinch, if I'll show even a flicker of hesitation. But I've had years to bury the part of me that might have once cared.
I step closer, my boots echoing in the suddenly silent room. The nameless infiltrator whimpers, shrinking back. But Arun meets my gaze without flinching. Hatred and disgust burn in his pale blue eyes.
I raise my gun, aiming at Arun's head. My finger tightens on the trigger, but something stops me.
A flicker.
A hallucination.
For a split second, it's not Arun kneeling there, but Hamsa. My brother. It's his eyes that stare up at me now. Not with hatred, but with that same disappointment I've seen so many times before.
The vision lasts only a heartbeat, but it's enough to make my hand tremble. I blink hard, the vision of Hamsa shattering as my finger squeezes the trigger. The crack of the shot grounds me. When the smoke clears, it’s Arun once more.
Cordite fills my nostrils, mingling with the coppery scent of blood.
It's a smell that stopped turning my stomach years ago.
Maybrecht leans forward in his chair, eyebrows raised. "An interesting choice," he muses, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I would have thought?—"
Before he can finish, I swing the gun toward the second prisoner, who lets out a bubbling laugh of relief that doesn't have time to turn to terror before I fire.
He joins Arun on the floor.
Silence descends on the room. So does the weight of their stares. Maybrecht, the guards, even the corpses at my feet.
I do a double take at the angel hanging above Maybrecht. For a moment, it's transformed into the visage of a resplendent ibis gazing down at me in disappointed judgment. I will have to earn her forgiveness later. For now, I can only offer a few droplets of blood in penance.
I clench my right hand into a tight fist and squeeze until I feel the blessed avian bones hidden beneath the bandages digging into my healing flesh. Until the cilice draws forth the coppery scent of fresh blood. Until the statue is an angel once more.
Slowly, deliberately, I holster my weapon.
"There's no use for weakness in the world we're trying to build," I say, my voice steady and cold. "Or nostalgia."
Maybrecht recovers first, a low chuckle escaping him. "I couldn't have said it better myself," he says, leaning back in his chair. His eyes glitter with something that might be approval. "Perhaps I made a mistake by giving Cosima to Monty after all. I see myself in you, Azarel."
I think he means it as a compliment.
The thought makes bile rise in my throat, but I steel myself before my lip can curl at his words.
"I'm ready to get on with my work, sir," I say, injecting as much calm into my voice as I can muster. The 'sir' feels bitter on my tongue, but I spit it out anyway.
The sooner I finish this busywork, the sooner I can get to Cosima. Her name echoes in my mind, a beacon of light in this blood-soaked darkness. The thought of her is my only anchor.
"Very well." Maybrecht reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a sealed envelope, placing it on the commandeered altar in front of him. "Inside the envelope, you'll find a list of every remaining Council loyalist scraping around in the Outer Reaches."
"You want them dead?" I ask.
"Assuming the rats and pestilence haven't gotten to them first," he says in a wry tone. "After that, you can bring my daughter home. Since you'll be in the area anyway."
"Of course," I mutter, tucking the envelope into the interior pocket of my uniform jacket. "And about what we discussed…"
"You play your role, General, and I'll play mine," he says, a dangerous glint coming into his eyes. "Let's just hope you don't have any second thoughts when the time comes."
"I won't," I say without a trace of doubt in my voice. And I feel none. "Reinmich has fallen, and soon, so will Surhiira."
And I mean every last word. It doesn't matter what I have to sacrifice.
My country.
My brother.
My very soul.
I snuffed out the lives of every fucking alpha Monty ever let touch her when I found out what was really happening at those parties, and I won’t hesitate to burn the entire world to ash before I allow anyone else near her again.
And if this war continues, it just may come to that.