Page 142 of Deadfall

“Alright—send recovery in when you’re done.”

My steps picked up. I suddenly needed air. Walking through these spaces always made me feel sick. The depravity of the human species astounded me. That someone could willingly subject these girls—some of them mere children—to these horrors was beyond comprehension. And I had to step into the darkness in order to have any hope of eradicating it. At the end of the day, my baby sister’s memory demanded it. Her ghost was restless in my soul, and every job was another step toward helping her rest. Who was I kidding—I needed this outlet or I’d return to drinking, or worse.

I stepped out into the fresh air and took a deep breath to clear my lungs of the foul smell of death, sex and drugs. You’d think after all these years of shutting down rings I’d get used to it, but I doubted I ever would.

Later that evening after a debrief of the raid, I found myself alone in the war room. I sat down in a chair and realized just how tired I was. But, I knew sleep wouldn’t help. This was the bone deep kind of tired of someone who’d been fighting for years and hadn’t stopped to rest yet. Despite the exhaustion, my mind was wired with details, grid numbers, geography and search and rescue tactics.

And, with today’s newest development, we now had an image of her.

It was front and center on the evidence board, and I couldn’t stop staring.

It must be her eyes.

I leaned my forearms heavily on my thighs and stared at those fierce grey eyes the color of a storm at twilight. I kept getting pulled in by the riots of greys and blues that swirled in turmoil.

“Where are you?” I murmured.

In answer, those eyes simply stared, full of rage and hurt so deep it nearly made me breathless at the intensity. And the scar. The cut was thin—a knife blade—and started above the edge of her eyebrow and sliced down, just cutting through the corner of one eye and picked back up again on her cheekbone where it continued, missing her mouth to finally end along her jaw.

The more I stared, the more enthralled I became. She was beautiful. And I didn’t mean just looks, although the scar did nothing to deter from that. I meant the way she seemed to glare out in defiance, as though daring the world to see her as anything less than what she was.

A low growl of frustration escaped, and the rush of possessiveness hit me out of nowhere. In such a short amount of time, she’d dug her way under my skin. I was hers, she was mine—she just didn’t know it yet. I’d failed my little sister, but I was not going to fail again.

I saw North’s reflection in the screens as he entered the room and stopped next to my chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at the boards. I straightened and my gaze flickered up to him. I saw the agony in his eyes, and I didn’t know what to say. Comforting words were not my forte, but I also didn’t think he needed, or wanted them. His eyes met mine, and there was no mistaking this was Emersyn’s blood. Except instead of a storm, his were hard as steel and just as unyielding.

“I bet she was a handful as a kid,” I said, looking back at her picture.

North scoffed quietly. “Pure chaos.”

I wanted to ask more. The urge to know her, any part of her, was so strong. But, I didn’t know North well, and such personal questions felt invasive at a time like this.

“I can see where she gets it from,” I said dryly.

North made a noncommittal sound. I fished my pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and put one lightly between my lips before I stood up and re-pocketed the half-crumpled pack. I put a hand on North’s shoulder as I went to walk past him and met his gaze. I may not be one for words, but I knew actions meant more to him anyway so with a nod, I squeezed his shoulder and headed out to the back patio.

Once outside, I flicked my lighter a few times before it caught, and took a big inhale as the flame took over the edge of the stick. I heard the hiss of the sliding glass door and instinctively knew it was Kyllion. He settled himself into one of the folding chairs. I automatically handed him the pack of smokes.

He lit one and inhaled deeply. “You’ve been quiet,” Kyllion said.

I heard the unasked question in his statement, but I didn’t answer and simply inhaled more smoke.

“This feels more personal than the other raids,” he continued.

“It’s always personal,” I muttered. “It all reminds me of Kally.”

I turned around and sank into the chair next to him with a sigh. We smoked in silence and as much as I tried to keep the past away, it rushed in—reminding me of everything I wanted to forget, but unfortunately, needed to remember forever.

66

SEVEN

Present Day

G had scared the fucking shit out me. When he’d stepped out into the mist, I was worried he was going to step in a pit, or trip a wire. I pushed the others to keep going—if this mist was as much of a bitch as everyone said, I knew what he was going to see and I didn’t want them to see him in that state.

When I found him, he was broken. I knelt with him yards from the end of the forest and fought through my own emotions, as I remembered all too well a past I wished we hadn’t experienced together.

The moment I deposited G behind the boulder with Angel and Emersyn, relief coursed through me along with a pain in my chest when Emersyn reached out and took his hand. There was understanding there and a deep well of empathy that wasn’t pity.