Page 103 of A Sweet Destruction

A second banging sound rent through the temple, this time from a side door along the wall across from us. Another member of the brotherhood was flying out of a room, answering the call for help.

It was barely a glimpse. Blink and you miss it. Probably less than that, but it was just a perfect domino effect of events that made me think for a second that maybe a deity was present in the room and was doing us a favor.

I was sitting at the exact right angle to see through the crack the priest left in the door, able to see not only through it but also over his shoulder to what he’d tried to hide with his form.

I recognized the person sitting behind him. Officer Edeka, that same, shaky-handed Muli soldier who had been tasked with the unfortunate mission of delivering summons from Elijah and Caspian.

His nerves had struck me as odd, though I’d dismissed it as fear that we’d kill him on the spot if he stepped foot into Vir territory. Now, his stuttering explanations and skittish demeanor around me and Ford was taking on a whole new light, because I’d just seen him getting a tattoo inked onto his hand—one that had been there weeks ago and should have been there since birth.

My heart was seconds away from beating out of my chest, pushing wave after wave of nauseating dread through my limbs. I really hadn’t wanted to be right about this.

I didn’t know if Ford could sense it through the Bond or if he was simply reacting to the threat of someone yelling at us, but he was pressed against my back, one arm banded across my chest.

The priests had everything handled, the interruption no more than a disruption than an actual threat. The real threat was the people we’d spent every day with for the past week, reaping the benefits of their hospitality and building trust.

Trust, with one big, blinding secret disrupting it.

I hoped, I really did, that they were trying to keep it a secret until the negotiations were over. If I was in their shoes, I’d probably advise the same. Knowing what I did about the Emperor and our history in this war, if he found out we had that significant of a leg up on Muli…

It was Brother Stevenson who spoke, his voice low and soothing like he was offering council. “I do apologize for that. You can imagine tensions run high at times, especially in a town so close to your Bridge.”

Our bridge, as if we’d been the ones to rip the hole through space and time ourselves. I was going to be sick.

“Oh, we understand,” Bellamy said with a devil-may-care sweep of her arm. “Would it be better if we took a walk outside to finish our conversation?”

Brother Stevenson nodded once. “That may be for the best.” He flagged down a younger man from across the room with one raised eyebrow. He took a wide berth as he approached, arching as far away as he could before stepping up next to Brother Stevenson and handing him a letter.

As the group started to make their way outside, Brother Stevenson explained, “I’ve taken the liberty of writing to our sisters.”

I barely heard the rest of what he was saying over the buzzing in my ears. I could feel Ford stepping closer to me, hovering just past the line of personal space. I decided that I didn’t care. That there were enough people here to fill me in on what Brother Stevenson was saying—some coy remark about how he wouldn’t expect us to blindly carry the letter to the priestesses and though he would assure us there was nothing untoward contained in it, we were happy to read it if it made us more comfortable.

I trusted I’d get a more detailed recap later.

For now, I wrapped my arm through Ford’s. Not even really a hold, more of hooking of elbows.

But enough to allow my body to take over and my mind to relax so I could turn the image of Officer Edeka over in my head from all angles, hoping I could find something to quell my fears.

I came up empty.

Chapter 23

Ford

If my heart gave out after this little trip behind the curtain of Muli’s defenses, I would not be surprised in the slightest.

Stress, fear, anxiety—they were all old friends my body and mind had gotten used to years ago, allowing only the sharpest of spikes through. Or so I’d thought, before the past several weeks.

I could feel the Bond grumbling already, prepared to launch into a tirade about how if I’m worried about you or Esme, I have good reason to be and how its here to protect you and to be thankful.

All true.

It still took time to adjust to, especially now that everything I held dear in my life seemed at risk of slipping through my fingers.

The urge to push the fear away with apathy was strong, a habit I’d wrongly adopted early on when I thought my role in my family was to be steady—which to my young mind, meant being unaffected by everything.

Clearly, that had been a bad habit to adopt. It was the reason I’d pushed away the most precious gift ever bestowed upon me. I still couldn’t quite believe Esme hadn’t ever tried to kill me.

Now, though, it felt like fear was embedded into my very bones, I fought to keep myself from falling behind a wall of forced callousness.