Riders (Riders, #1)(3)

Cordero’s fingers stop drumming. “Why don’t you tell me?”

I come so close to blurting it out, blurting everything out, I almost feel like I did it. Something’s not right. A prison break is happening in my mind. All my thoughts want out. My story wants out. Images of the past few weeks crash around in my head demanding freedom. Holding them back’s a full-body effort. I’m tied to a chair but my heart’s doing a triathlon. My face goes hot and the back of my throat starts to burn. What the hell did they just give me?

Cordero waits. “Okay, Gideon. We’ll try again in half an hour.” She pauses at the door. “I can do this all day. Can you?”

After she leaves, I let my head fall forward where it wants to be.

Breathe, Blake. Breathe.

I could’ve handled that better. But was I supposed to tell a stranger what’s going on? Who I am? What I am?

No way. Cordero would’ve panicked. She’d have lost her mind. But the words are still on my tongue. They’re right there.

I’m War, I want to say.

I am War.





CHAPTER 2

It takes me less than a minute to realize that I have to answer Cordero’s questions. The drugs have wiped out my entire arsenal of abilities. I’m stuck in this chair until I give her what she wants. There’s no other way. I have to talk.

The taller guard, Texas, leaves to get her but she waits the full half hour before coming back, like a parent making a point. Don’t test me, Gideon Blake. I mean what I say and I say what I mean.

She brings a black file with her that makes a slap when she drops it on the desk. My military record. It’s pretty thick considering I only shipped off to Basic a couple of months ago after high school, but I’ve already had a notable run in the Army.

Cordero tucks herself under the desk. “I’m glad you came around.” She flips open the file, then waits like she wants me to say thank you.

“You should’ve covered the electrical outlets,” I say instead.

Her dark eyebrows go up. “Excuse me?”

“If you didn’t want me to know I’m back in the States. Just a tip for the next time you unlawfully detain someone.”

“Noted. Any other suggestions on how I can do my job better?”

“Yes. As soon as we’re done, Nat, the second we’re done, you untie me and get Colonel Nellis.”

Cordero’s mouth lifts at the corners. Not a smile, exactly. More like a close cousin to a smile. “Stop calling me ‘Nat’ and we have a deal.”

I nod, but I’m actually not sure it’s going to work. Everything I said sort of just slipped out. My thoughts are still up in arms, tired of being stuck in my head. I have to keep consciously beating them back and hoping they stay there.

A muffled voice in the hallway draws my attention to the door. Sebastian, Marcus, and Jode left Norway with me. Only Daryn didn’t. The guys must be here. Probably in adjacent rooms being interro-questioned by their own Corderos. I bet Marcus hasn’t said a word, but I can just imagine the verbal diarrhea Bastian and Jode are slinging. Neither of those guys needs drugs to spill.

Thinking about them reminds me of Daryn again. This time I really sink into the memory and she’s twisting her long hair over one shoulder and smiling at me.

What are you looking at, Gideon?

You. I’m looking at you.

How am I looking?

Perfect, I should’ve said. But I didn’t.

“Gideon? Are you with me?”

Whoa. Not at all. How long did I just zone out? Priority one: Get these drugs out of my system. They’re slowing me down too much. I won’t stand a chance against the Kindred doped up like this. I need to get this debriefing done, find the guys, and get back in the fight.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m with you.”

“Good. Let’s start with the accident at Fort Benning.” Cordero reads from the folder. “The last record we have of your whereabouts is dated six weeks ago. You suffered extensive injuries during a training incident. The report states that you fractured your femur, radius, and ulna … cracked ribs … severe concussion. It says here you were unresponsive for over two minutes. You had just been declared dead when you resuscitated.” She looks up from the file. “Tell me what happened during that exercise. You were parachuting?”

I nod. “But it didn’t go right and … I bounced.”

Behind her Texas and Beretta exchange a look. Dumb boot, I bet they’re thinking. Incompetent little turd.

“Bounced?” Cordero asks.

“Hit the dirt at a very high velocity.”

“Yes. I have that here, but I’d like to hear the full account in your own words.”

Right. My own words. But now I can’t seem to start. Going through this from the beginning will use up precious time. How can I sit here, talking, when the Kindred are out there hurting innocent people? On the other hand, if I tell Cordero the situation without any lead-up, she’ll either panic and make hasty decisions, or think I’m crazy and refuse to believe me—neither of which I want, so. The fastest way out of this room really is to tell the whole story, and that jump was definitely square one. The beginning. Or the end, depending on your perspective. Death usually is the end.

“Walk me through it, Gideon. Moment to moment,” Cordero says, like she’s sensed I’m finally ready.