Secondborn (Secondborn #1)(79)

“Is that your real name?” I ask. “Your brothers have different ones. It’s so hard to keep up.”

“So you did recognize me that night we met. I often wondered. I took a chance by not wearing the colored eyewear that I normally use. Your mother is usually so observant, but I think she only had you on her mind that night.”

“Are there more of you about?” I ask wearily. “I know of three—you, Walther, and Dune.”

“I’d rather not answer that question.”

“Why? You know everything there is to know about me. I’m at a disadvantage.”

Daltrey’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Thank you for arranging this meeting, Reykin. I’d like to speak with Roselle alone.”

“I’ll stay,” Reykin Winterstrom replies.

“This is family business, Reykin.”

“I wasn’t aware she was a member of your family, Daltrey.”

“She’s my brother’s daughter.”

“By blood?” Reykin asks.

“No, but there are stronger ties than blood. Ask her who her real father is. I doubt she will tell you Kennet Abjorn.”

“She has my protection,” Reykin says.

“Are you both serious right now?” I ask. “I have a list of demands, and then you’re going to let me return to the Fate of Swords. You can argue about who has more right to hear what I’m about to say after I’m gone.”

“I think she’s delirious, Daltrey,” Reykin says, reaching out to touch my forehead. I would swat his hand away, but it’s cool and soothing against my skin. “You should come back after she’s had more time to recover.”

“No, this is who she is,” Daltrey responds. He picks up another chair and brings it to the side of the bed. “She’s been taught to think—to reason—to strategize. She’s performing to the high standards of her training, and I’m very interested in what she has to say.” Reykin’s hand slips away, but he doesn’t leave my side. He’s sticking around. It’s somewhat endearing.

“You have Flannigan’s bag?” I ask Daltrey.

“I do. Thank you for delivering it to me.”

“She had a message for you.”

“I’d like to hear it.”

“She said, ‘Tell him it was nearly flawless.’ And then she said to tell you to miss her every day.”

A sad smile touches his lips. “Tell me how she died.”

I explain in detail our meeting and subsequent foray into Census. “I’ve had the monikers for a year. I haven’t known what to do with them—who to contact.”

“You didn’t need anything until now,” Daltrey replies. It’s a harsh assessment that paints me in a self-serving light.

“Oh, I’ve needed plenty, Daltrey,” I counter angrily. “I just had to survive on my own.”

Daltrey studies me. “Until now, but you have very little to bargain with, Roselle—I’m in possession of everything you and Flannigan stole from Census. You held nothing back from me. You’ve lost your position of power.”

“Have I?” I ask calmly. “That’s interesting, because I feel like I have all the power in this room. You may have the bag, but it’s useless without a way to upload your fake profiles. If they never make it into the Republic’s networks, then what do you really have? A bunch of holograms that won’t scan.”

“We’re Stars—infiltrating networks is what we do.”

“It’s what you used to do. Your network of spies has been decimated. Admit it. Your operatives in the field couldn’t get out with their copycat monikers and were all cut down. Those still alive have had to go to ground. You’re losing everything.”

He’s unruffled. “You have set us back as well, Roselle—you and your hydrogen-powered alternatives. You’ve made the antiquated method of weaponry sexy. Our best hope for winning this conflict is being thwarted by you.”

“I’m interested in saving the lives of secondborn Swords. All your Gates of Dawn soldiers are doing is killing secondborns. It’s completely senseless, your war. You’re changing nothing. If you want to rebel, rebel against firstborns. Instead, you’ve let them go on with their lives while you murder us in droves. You can choose to walk away anytime you want. Secondborn Sword soldiers have no choice but to fight you or die. Either you kill us or they kill us. There are zero options for Swords.”

“Secondborn Swords have options,” Daltrey replies. “You could lay down your weapons and revolt against firstborns. You can join us whenever you wish.”

“We can cross your line and get our heads beaten in, you mean.” I touch the wound on my temple.

“The secondborns of your Fate need a leader to show them the way,” he replies.

“I can help you with your moniker problem, and then you can leave me alone. I’ll never tell who is really a thirdborn or a spy.”

“You have no power to make demands, Roselle.”

“I fail to see your point of view.”

“I have your friends. You’ll do as I say or I’ll kill them, and then I’ll kill you.”

“I think this is called mutually assured destruction, Daltrey. Without me, there is no more you. I’m your best chance to operate in the Fate of Swords—or any of the Fates of the Republic. If you don’t return me, a certain arms dealer will come looking for me. He makes weapons that are not currently accounted for in any ledger. A lot of those weapons find their way here. He’d hate it if his spokesperson didn’t come back. It could make him very angry.”