Chapter 11 #3
The air roars something wild and unfamiliar when Harper pushes me into the lift, the tension between us set free to ricochet off the walls, anxious and fidgeting and tipped precariously on the very lip of an abyss.
We enter my ward, and Harper leans against the wheelchair handles to look down at me. ‘Are you feeling all right or am I supposed to tuck you in?’
It starts off as a joke, but the moment stretches and I realize I haven’t responded.
Every word gets caught in my throat, and I’m too busy watching the skyline’s glow over Harper’s jawline, the stray lock of hair escaping from behind her ear, the moonlight brushing soft lips and a smooth expanse of neck.
‘Depends. How good are you in bed?’ I ask, distantly coming to the conclusion that I’m going to need to blame this all on the drugs tomorrow morning.
Harper braces her elbows against the handles of the wheelchair and leans down with a smirk of her own. Our noses could brush, if they tried. If I tried. ‘I’d make sure you couldn’t walk tomorrow morning.’
Then she looks pointedly at my wheelchair in obvious jest.
Oh. I burst out laughing to dispel the tight ball of emotion in my gut. ‘Go to sleep, kit.’
Harper grins and does a little wave as she leaves. ‘Night, bunny.’
I feel the moon taunting me the second the ward door shuts.
‘Three more.’ Niko paces my bedroom as Kiran lounges in the study chair.
‘Three more cases of moonstones, and both the Nagas and Foxes will have enough moonstone combined to practically wipe out the country. I’ve been counting.
They stole the blueprints on Valentine’s.
Assuming they’ve had the resources to follow up on it, they’ve basically stolen enough moonstones now that they can make the bombs. ’
I sit up in bed and lace my fingers together. Kiran’s typing on his phone, but he looks up to fix Niko a look. ‘Thoughts?’
Niko stops at the window, their arms crossed. ‘I don’t know. We have to figure out where they’re stashing the moonstones. Our top priority now isn’t just to stop heists, but to capture either a Fox or a Naga. Better yet, maybe even catch Raven.’
Kiran sighs. ‘What do you think we’ve been trying to do?’
Niko pushes their head into their hands and takes a deep breath. ‘I know. I just . . . Please. We need to figure this out, or there’s quite literally going to be a bomb threat hanging over our heads. Understood?’ They speak to Kiran, mostly – I’m grounded from Sentinel work until I heal.
I register the news anyway with a sinking feeling in my gut.
Once the meeting is adjourned, I ease out of bed to grab my suit. My wound has healed enough that I’m no longer in danger of pulling my stitches, and the doctors cleared me for action yesterday.
Niko had a heart scanner built into my first visor, set to notify them whenever my heart rate spiked or dipped abnormally. Back when I first began training as a Sentinel and my panic attacks were frequent, it was the quickest way for Niko to save me if I couldn’t reach out myself.
It stings that I lost it to the ocean, but last week Niko gave me a new one with a kiss pressed to my forehead and a warning for me to take it easy.
I power it up as I down a couple of moonstone supplements. Today, the heart rate display looks different. There’s a separate function, a new icon I can’t figure out.
I tap on it and squint. ‘ALFRED, does that say I can control my heartbeat?’
‘Boss placed it in as a back-up feature for dire situations. You are indeed able to manipulate your new heart through the computer. Please exercise the function carefully, as careless usage may result in arrhythmia and death.’
Interesting. I stash the panel aside to clear my view. The sky is clear tonight. I take advantage of the good flight conditions to patrol the city, slowly adapting to my suit again.
For the safety of the public, deliberate magic use isn’t allowed.
Still, I sometimes spot young, errant descendants testing the limits of their magic in dark alleyways.
Some teenagers experiment on their friends, risking everyone in the neighbourhood.
I don’t arrest those, but I usually give them a warning, or secretly slip them addresses with empty open spaces to figure their magic out in private.
Not tonight, thankfully. I’m back home before long, shucking my armour and collapsing into my bed’s embrace.
A loud bang rings from the window, cracked open for the cool night air to enter. A dark shape slips through the gap.
What the—? My hand grapples for my blasters. They snap around my wrists and I roll out of bed, aiming for the window in a practised motion.
A figure pulls themself to stand against the night. Their back is a solid pane of shadow, their head buried in an arm they rest on the windowsill. Feeble light from the skyline below traces their shoulders, head, the glint of something around their neck.
From the utility belt around their waist, a Fox-shaped knife hilt peeks out.
Oh shit. My blood runs cold. ‘Hands on your head!’
The figure – Raven – groans as she shifts her weight on her feet, but doesn’t move.
‘Hands on your head!’ I bark again, forcing my voice not to waver. This isn’t like Raven. My palms sweat in my blasters, the air conditioning cold against my back and through my pyjamas.
Lights. I should get some. Without taking my focus off Raven, I shuffle to the light switch. ‘If this is a ruse, I’m going to shoot you.’
Something tells me the threat is unnecessary, that if Raven had genuinely wanted to harm me then she would already have done it.
I knock my shoulder against the light switch to flip it on.
Warm bedside light illuminates Raven’s small frame, her matted ponytail, and the way her shoulders heave like she’s panting.
Which is all, of course, secondary to the growing pool of blood on the floor.