Chapter 9 A Truth for a Truth
A TRUTH FOR A TRUTH
Ozirax
Ozirax sat across from the Horn of the Guard as the red demon flipped through his reports, brow pinched and claws tapping the parchment. While Ozirax had been in the commander’s office many times, this visit felt heavier.
Perhaps it was all of the lies on the document presented to his superior officer. Frank help him convince the male.
Next to him, Kalypso’s hand rhythmically tightened over the arm of her chair, the bruise and gnarly cut across the lower half of her face looking worse than it had last night.
After she’d refused Rand’s healing, she’d barged into the mess hall with her noxscant-piss-laced bracers, blood running down her mouth and chin while her hair was a complete mess, and dumped the disgusting things into Drolmoth’s food.
Then, for good measure, had spit a wad of blood into the space between his legs and told him if he ever tried to kill her squad in the field again, she’d feed his cock to a weasel, whatever that was.
Ozirax had been proud of the display. Not just that she’d called them her squad, but that every member of her squad had stood behind her in solidarity, letting her fight the battle on her terms before walking off with the respect of almost the entire guard.
And then he’d guiltily gone to the shower and come so hard in his hand that he’d blacked out for a full minute.
He blamed the adrenaline wearing off, the sight of her bloodied from a fight, and the quick mind she’d had in the Dreadmoor to understand what was really happening with the attack.
Not to mention her refusal to heal herself so she could show everyone exactly what she’d walked away from.
But he knew her nerves today had nothing to do with the report that Harrox currently had in his hands.
“This is… concerning,” Harrox said, neatly stacking the papers before handing them to his assistant—Dolgeraus, a tall blue demon who had failed the guard entrance exam five times before taking the administrative path like his uncle Tarzul in finance—who lumbered off to duplicate them for the council.
“But it seems that your quick thinking turned what could have been a disaster into a success.”
And with the limited details he’d given the commander, that was good enough for him.
“I would like to officially petition for Drolmoth’s removal from the guard,” Ozirax said calmly.
Harrox glanced at the second stack of papers that Oz had delivered. “Yes. I see. Well, as you know…”
Now it was Ozirax’s hand curling over the arm of his chair as Harrox explained the political challenge of bringing Drolmoth in front of a triumvirate, gathering witnesses, the lengthy process…
all which Ozirax had been prepared to hear but disgusted him nonetheless.
It didn’t matter that he had official reports from his squad, it was the one sitting on top that would be the political nightmare.
“Now, if Kalypso would like to proceed,” Harrox offered, thumbing her official complaint, “we can arrange council for her as well. But I feel it’s best to inform you that Drolmoth has thorough connections, and bringing this to trial—”
“Forget it,” Kalypso muttered. “That fuckwad”—Ozirax coughed, but not loud enough to cover her language in front of the Horn—“knows I’m not an easy kill.”
The Horn of the Guard watched her warily, then grunted and addressed Ozirax. “If it helps, your actions as squad leader are a strong case for your promotion to captain. In that role, you could expedite this case.”
Ozirax at least managed to keep his mouth shut that the retiring captain who was meant to be liaising between the guard and their commander was doing absolute shit for the human in his employ.
Harrox continued with a tap of his hand on his desk. “But you can include all of that in your application, which I greatly look forward to seeing.”
“Yes, sir. Just polishing it up.”
Lie.
The commander was none the wiser, nodding before lifting the final document placed in front of him. “As for our last order of business.”
Spicy sat up straighter, her heartbeat picking up.
“Glowing recommendations, Kalypso,” Harrox said, scanning the page. “From the entire squad. Including your leader.”
“My sister?” she asked, barely contained nerves in her voice.
“I have been authorized by the council to arrange a meeting.” The woman shuddered in relief. “However, there will still be supervision before we discuss the terms for more. Ozirax will need to be present to ensure—”
“Fine, that’s fine,” she blurted, adjusting in her seat. “When can I see her?”
“I believe a tentative meeting was arranged in Heck proper for tomorrow. Now, if there’s nothing more, I will need to deliver these reports to the council.
Hopefully there won’t be more trouble before I see you again at the fundraiser.
” His lip curled a fraction as he focused on her lip.
“I do hope you’ll see a healer before then. ”
“I’ll make sure of it.” Ozirax stood and bowed. “Thank you, sir.”
He gestured for Kaly, escorting her through the halls of the building until they stepped out into the midmorning air.
He’d barely looked up to admire the moonlight when a force hit him from the side.
“What the fuck is this?” he asked, looking down in confusion as Spicy wrapped her arms around his chest, pinning his arm to his side. “Are you… hugging me?”
Her body shook and then she stepped back, dusting herself off as she cleared her throat. “No, of course not.”
But that was definitely a tear she failed to swipe away before it slipped down her cheek.
“Did you think I would keep you from your sister?”
Kalypso avoided his gaze, shrugging a shoulder as she took the stairs down to the street and back toward the barracks. “I don’t know. With everything yesterday, I wasn’t sure if you’d think it was a distraction.”
He cocked his head, following after her. “You two are close.”
It was a tentative peace between them, and he risked it with such a personal observation, but she didn’t shy away.
“I’ve looked after her since we were young, tried to give her everything I could. It’s always been her and I against the world.”
Ozirax had guessed as much. “Sounds nice.”
Blue and green eyes flashed his direction. “I thought you’d say that emotional connections would make me weak.”
“I don’t believe that.”
She shrugged, facing forward on their stroll again. “Clearly you’ve never had a sibling or a lover.”
“Because I believe emotional connections aren’t a weakness?”
“Yes.” For a moment, he thought that would be the end of it, her walls thrown back up and a chasm stretching between them once more. But eventually she added, “Attachments only lead to disappointment. Best not to have them.”
“Sounds lonely.”
Her steps slowed on the tree-lined path, fingers curling into a fist, but he didn’t think it was in anticipation of punching something. “You can’t hurt if there’s no one to hurt you. You said it yourself.”
Despite the danger, Oz gripped her wrist and tugged her to a stop. “You mince my words. Intentionally seeking hurt is not the same.”
“Whatever.”
Kalypso tugged her arm, and under other circumstances he probably would have let her storm off. But this was the most time she’d spent actually listening to him, and there was a reluctance in the way she’d tried to pull away, so he wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste.
Oz pulled her aside, pressing her back to a tree so he could cage her in with his body. The path they were on had thinned of demons walking, but he offered the privacy anyway.
“Why did you punch the wall, Kalypso?”
“Why do you care?” she fired back, leaning as far away from him as possible.
“Because—”
He snapped his teeth shut on… well, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say.
That it mattered as her squadron leader if she would never trust them completely?
That he wanted to know why getting good news about her sister acclimating to Heck had set her off?
That he needed to know because of his own aching curiosity pulling him toward this spicy human?
All of those options bordered on too cold or too dangerous. A fraction of the truth, but not the response to breach this fragile precipice before she flared her spikes once again.
He forced his exhale through his nose. “One thing, Spicy. A truth for a truth. Just give me one thing and I’ll walk away.”
The pinch between her brow tightened, and if Ozirax had thought he’d seen fear in her eyes before, it was nothing compared to how the blue and green flashed with the emotion now.
But she was considering it. He knew from the way her jaw shifted in thought, and how her knee didn’t come up to jab him between the legs for how he’d caged her in.
Ozirax glanced beyond her head, to the arm pressed to the colorless bark of the tree. His spikes lay flat, an unfamiliar calm humming under his skin that would flare the moment he stepped away and the world came roaring back in around him. But there at his wrist, a truth.
“I was twelve,” he said, staring at the thin lines of ink on his skin.
Slowly, he pulled his hand back so he could trace the tattoo with his other thumb.
“Magic manifests at all different ages, but mine was wreaking havoc during puberty. Tripping over my feet because I was moving too fast. Knocking shit over with limbs that felt out of control. Spikes flaring at the slightest provocation. Some of my peers had… less than kind words to say about it.”
That temper will only ever be good for the guard.
A stupid warrior, exactly what his parents bred.
If his father is the Skullcrusher, what will they name him?
Ozirax curled his hand into a fist. “As you know, reading didn’t come easy for me, but one afternoon I found myself in the library.”