An immediate chorus of “Yes, sir’s” but no stiffness now. These children were still reachable. That didn’t mean they didn’t bear wounds, but with the right care, those wounds would heal.
“We didn’t bring you up to be the leader of the squad so you could waste time playing with children.”
Looking into his mother’s face, Aden said, “You didn’t bring me up at all.” A blunt truth. “As for how I choose to lead the squad, that decision is mine.” He knew Marjorie and Naoshi had expected to guide their son where they wanted him to go, had been stunned to realize one day that he’d grown both independent and away from them.
Despite it all, he did respect them. Without his parents, there would’ve been no rebellion.
“Are you planning to respond to the Beacon article?” Lights glowed in the windows of the homes around them, but his mother’s eyes were dark.
“In my own way and when it’s time.”
“You should eliminate the Beacon editor. That’ll get the message across.”
“Mother, that is the old way.” Aden didn’t intend to bring up the next generation to think violence alone was the answer. “We’re going to work smarter.”
“You should listen to those of us who’ve lived longer, seen more.”
“And are stuck in prehistoric times?” came a familiar voice, a familiar mind sliding into his. Sorry I’m late. Bo wanted to talk, see if we had any updates on the attempts to foster conflict between various parties.
Staggered by the cool rush of relief that she’d chosen to come to him regardless of the fears of madness that haunted her, he put his arm around her shoulders, saw his mother’s eyes go to their connection. But when Marjorie spoke, it was to say, “Venice?”
“Empty. Everyone has been relocated and all movable property will soon be gone.” Zaira slid her own arm around his waist. “My opinion is that we keep ownership but rent it out. In the future, younger members of the squad could use it as a covert home base should they need one in that part of the world.”
“The other rentals would provide good cover.” Marjorie nodded before turning to Aden.
The fact that she had large, thickly lashed eyes set in a delicate face gave her an appearance of almost doll-like fragility.
It was a premeditated lie. Marjorie Kai was as pitiless an Arrow as Aden knew.
“You’re far weaker in psychic ability than we intended,” she said to him. “See that the weakness doesn’t extend to your leadership.”
Aden held Zaira back when she would’ve lunged at Marjorie as his mother shifted on her heel to walk away. “I’ve heard it a million times,” he reminded her. “It ceased to have any effect while I was still in my early teens.” Even as defectors, his parents had found ways to get messages to him—those messages had always been focused on how he could best serve the rebellion “despite” his “substandard rating on the Gradient.”
Zaira scowled up at him. “Why don’t you just tell her exactly how strong you are?”
“I like to imagine the look on her face the day she finds out.”
“She’ll probably take joint credit for it with your father.”
A smile filled his veins. “True.” Will you stay?
Where else would I go? With that sharp comment, she began to walk to the simple cabin-style home that had been assigned to them in the valley. DarkRiver’s architects had taken their ideas and requests and come up with an overall design plan that suited the people who’d be using the buildings. Even the larger houses, meant for bigger families, carried through the warm, natural style that allowed for plenty of open space and light.
“I came by earlier, spoke to Beatrice,” Zaira said.
“How is the girl?”
“Healing slowly—Abbot’s E is helping her. I asked if she wanted to move in with us, since we have the spare room, but another Arrow her age reached out to her in the aftermath of the Blake situation and the two are happy bunking together with three other year mates.”
“As long as she knows the offer is open.” Lights began snapping off around them, though more than a few adults remained up. “Blake’s still in the wind but Amin’s keeping up the pressure. We will get him. And Krychek’s uncovered nothing that points to any of our obvious suspects being behind the conspiracy, but he’s planning to make some personal visits, too.”
“Nikita?” Zaira asked as they reached their cabin.
“Alive.” Walking inside, he shut the door and, in the darkness, hauled her close, kissing his way down her face to find her lips.
“Aden,” she murmured, just as rain hit the windows. “I’ve made a decision.”
“What?”
“If we have to deal with the bad things anyway, then we should get to indulge in the good as much as we want.” She pushed up his T-shirt. “Take this off.”
He had no hesitation in obeying. Throwing the soft cotton aside, he helped her strip off her uniform. The instant she was naked, he put his hands, his mouth on her. She protested. “You’re still half—”
Stealing her words with a kiss, he wrapped his arms just below her ribs and hitched up. She moved fluidly with him, locking her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He held her in position as he walked forward until her back gently hit the wall. Bracing her against it, he placed one palm flat on the wall, his other on the sleek muscle of her thigh.
The feel of her acted like nitroglycerine in his blood, setting off a sensory explosion that made his heart thump and his skin heat. At that instant, with the rain cocooning them from the world and the squad in good hands for the next few hours, he could be just a man, just Aden. And Aden wanted to sink into the dangerous, fascinating Arrow in his arms.