He was right, she thought. Good intentions didn't always work out, but he could prove how things were going to be over time.
"Okay," she said hoarsely. "Let's give it a go. Come with me to Wrath's?"
When John nodded once, she stepped in beside him.
Together they walked down to the king's study.
Each step they took seemed wobbly, even though the mansion was solid as a rock. Then again, she felt as though the earthquake that had been tossing her life around in a blender had suddenly stopped, and she didn't trust her balance or the steadiness of what was below her feet.
Before they knocked on the closed doors, she turned toward the male who had had her name carved in his back. The assignment she was about to accept was a dangerous one, something vital to Wrath and the Brotherhood. But its implications to her own life, and John's, seemed even more significant.
Stepping into him, she put her arms around his body and held on. As he returned the embrace, they fit just the same as they always did, hand in glove.
Goddamn, she hoped this worked out.
Oh, and yeah, nailing Xcor and his band of freaks?
Nice bonus.
Chapter Fifty-One
The reality that the female in the white robe had not been a dream came gradually upon Xcor, rather like fog clearing over a vista to reveal contours and conceptions previously obscured from the buffering.
He was back in the van, lying on the seat that had carried him forth from their lair, his head pillowed on the meaty inner bend of his elbow, his knees bent and stacked one atop the other. Zypher was not behind the wheel this time. Throe was driving.
The male had been silent since they had left the meadow. Uncharacteristically so.
As Xcor stared straight ahead, he traced the subtle pattern in the fake leather cover of the seat Throe was in. It was a hard job, given that the only light he had was from the instrument panel up front.
"She was real, then," he said after a while.
"Aye," came the quiet response.
Xcor closed his eyes and wondered how it was possible a female like that actually existed. "She was a Chosen. "
"Aye. "
"How did you manage that. "
There was a long pause. "She fed me when the Brotherhood had me in their custody. They told her I was a soldier, not identifying me as their enemy to spare her worry. "
"You should not have used her," he growled. "She is an innocent in all this. "
"What other option did I have? You were dying. "
He pushed that fact out of his mind, focusing instead upon the revelation that that which was legend in fact lived and breathed. And serviced the Brotherhood. And Throe.
For some reason, the thought of his soldier taking the vein of that female made Xcor want to reach around the headrest and snap the male's neck. Except jealousy, however unfounded it was, was just one of his problems.
"You have compromised us. "
"They will never use her as a locator," Throe said grimly. "A Chosen female? Entering the war in any fashion? The Brothers are too old-fashioned, and she is far too valuable. They will never take her out into the field. "
Thinking things through further, he decided Throe was likely correct - that female was priceless in too many ways to count. Besides, he and his Band of Bastards set out at the crack of night every evening - they were far from sitting ducks. And if they encountered the Brothers? They would reengage. He was no pussy to run from his enemy - better to plan an attack, but that was not always possible.
"What is her name?" he demanded.
More silence.