Riders (Riders, #1)(81)

My own training with the sword didn’t progress much, though. Marcus and I continued to give each other the good news—beatdowns, in other words. I hated the guy and he hated me. The only upside was that our fast healing was like a reset button. We ended the days with welts, swollen eyes, and split lips, but by morning we were usually fine and ready to wail on each other again.

All told, we spent a week training in which nothing positive was accomplished. I mean that.

Nothing.

I didn’t know how to bring us together as a team. It was a failure on me as a leader. I hated the situation with Daryn. How awkward and forced things had become between us since Italy. And I was out-of-my-head tired from losing sleep and mentally fried, thanks to the Kindred. With all of that piling up, I’d become a walking bomb by the end of that week, so it wasn’t surprising when things with Marcus came to a head the next day.





CHAPTER 48

“Ma’am?”

It’s Beretta.

Beretta is cutting in on me.

A vicious expression passes over Cordero’s face at the interruption. Slowly, she turns to face him. “Yes?”

Yesss. Little demon hiss in there.

“I need to rotate out,” Beretta says.

“Is there a situation I’m not aware of?”

“No, ma’am. I need to report in to my CO.”

Texas doesn’t say a word, but everything about him is backing up his partner. The way he’s watching Cordero. The way he’s standing. These guys are risking everything for me. What Beretta wants to report is the fact that something’s wrong.

Has he figured out what?

Does he know who Cordero is?

Cordero finally nods. “Fine. But hurry back.”

Beretta steps out. Now I wonder who’s on the other side of that door. Are they really Army? Are they people? Or is Samrael out there with Ra’om? With Bay and Ronwae? They could all be here.

Cordero and I are looking at each other like nothing unusual is going on. I picture who I’m really looking at. Stringy hair the color of earthworms. Pocked. That dark, dirty suit that’s oversized, bagging around the hands and feet. Spilling over his shoulders. But that was just a front too. The real Malaphar is the melted wax monster, with drooping skin and boneless limbs.

The radiator kicks on. Tink, tink, tink.

Perfect soundtrack for the nightmares I’ll be having the rest of my life.

If I live.

“I changed my mind,” I say. “Can I get some water?” Maybe Texas can cut my bindings when he brings me water. Or loosen them. Or slip me his bowie knife. Anything.

“But you’re almost finished, aren’t you?” Cordero says. “I think you’ll survive.”

Everything has a double meaning now.

Focus, Blake. Assess, plan, execute.

I search for my sword again, and find the thread, the focus, the feeling. The relief stops my heart for a moment. Yes. It’s with me. I can summon it now. And I can feel Jode, Bas and Marcus through the cuff, too. They’re close, like I thought. My armor’s still out of my reach. And Riot is too, but I’m coming back.

I need to know why Malaphar is here. He wants something—something from me. Knowledge. I’ve been sitting here, telling him my story. He’s been listening for clues.

Clues about what? The Kindred got the key.

Didn’t they?

I think of Daryn at the diner outside of Los Angeles the first time I saw the key on the chain around her neck. Did she ever tell me, actually tell me, that I was looking at the key?

“You were saying that you and Marcus finally had it out?” Cordero says.

I’m a sitting duck, tied to this chair.

Time. Time is the only thing I can control.

Daryn is here. So are the guys. Texas and Beretta. One of them will come through. Someone will get me out of this chair before Malaphar is done with me.

I need to keep bluffing.

I need to stall.





CHAPTER 49

Jealousy was what started it.

I was coming back to the hut after a patrol hike around our area. I’d been making them every day to search for signs of the Kindred. Alone for the past couple of hours, I was completely zoned in to the quiet of the fjord, my senses tuned to all the smells and sounds of Jotunheimen.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Daryn and Marcus by the stone circle. They were huddled on the same stone, their heads were bent close, and their backs were to me.

For a second I thought they were kissing.

Or about to. Or just had.

Something.

I heard Daryn laugh, and then Marcus said, “Dare, this isn’t gonna work if you keep moving.”

I went over to them, a volcanic pressure building inside me. “Afternoon,” I said.

Daryn whirled to me. “Hey.” The smile disappeared from her face. “Splinters,” she said, raising her hand. “From cutting firewood.”

Irrational rage spread through me as I looked at Marcus.

“I’ll be at the clearing, Reaper,” I said, and put myself in a forced march down the mountain.

Marcus came down five minutes behind me. I’d somehow managed not to detonate in that stretch of time. “No weapons,” I said, as he joined me at the center of our practice field.

He nodded, and we went at it, fist-to-fist.