It wouldn’t take long to break her to his will; she was already isolated and submissive, and he’d quickly become her “friend.” He’d kill her without hesitation if she proved a mistake, but he didn’t think it would come to that. Beatrice was hungry for approval, for attention. If she hadn’t been such a well-behaved Arrow trainee, the trainers would’ve realized that she was fundamentally unsuited to the squad.
Then again, perhaps not. Beatrice needed to cling to something and the squad had given her the chance. He’d simply give her a far more individual opportunity. Once she was his, once she’d made the first cut, there’d be no going back. Satisfied with her progress to date, he was in the right frame of mind to receive a call from the individual who’d been so encouraging of his tendencies.
“Anyone in particular you’d like me to kill?” He knew the support he was receiving had to have a political motive, but it was working in his favor so he had no argument. “An intransigent business associate, perhaps.”
“No. We can’t be connected on any level.” The speaker’s voice was made unrecognizable by what had to be a simple scrambling program on their end. “I reached out to you because I don’t agree with the direction the Net and, it appears, the Arrows are taking.”
“Out of the goodness of your heart?” he said, pointedly using a human expression. “I’m touched. I was under the impression it had to do with undermining the fall of Silence.” It had taken him time, but he was positive he knew the identity of his supporter—it had been a slipup during their last conversation that had given him the first clue and he’d taken that and dug.
He might be a psychopath but he was also a damn good Arrow.
“If that is my motive?”
“Silence or not, I have the same playground.” The only difference was that now, his psychopathy would be considered an aberration; under Silence, his lack of empathy had been a coveted state of being.
Chapter 37
TWO DAYS AFTER her descent into unthinking and violent rage and Zaira could still feel the imprint of Aden’s hand on her cheek, feel the warmth of it, the weight of it. She’d never seen him do that with any other Arrow, male or female, never seen him do that with anyone but her. She had, however, seen Vasic do it with Ivy Jane, and vice versa.
It was a touch of affection.
No one else had ever touched her in affection. “I told him he wasn’t Silent,” she muttered under her breath as she pulled her hair back into a neat knot at her nape.
She was dressing so formally because Aden had taken her at her word. If all she could be was a soldier, then he wanted that soldier beside him, wanted the squad to see a functioning pair at the top of their hierarchy, not simply a lone Arrow. Zaira knew he needed someone better but she couldn’t walk away, her possessiveness toward him a deep pulse even below her shield of discipline.
Sealing the angular panel of her black coat, she walked out of her room in Venice and found Abbot waiting for her. The young Tk soon had her at Central Command.
“Abbot,” she said before he could leave, “your relationship with your E—is it difficult, given your training?”
Abbot didn’t shy at the personal question. “It was when we first met,” he said. “But Jaya is an empath.”
Zaira nodded, because what else was there to say? Empaths healed souls, healed hearts, even the most damaged and broken, and Abbot’s E was more like Ivy Jane than the more delicate complement. Jaya had grit enough to love an Arrow.
“Thank you,” she said to him.
Abbot left without further words, but she stayed in place in the underground green space where she’d asked him to bring her. An E would be perfect for Aden. Like Ivy, she would bring warmth and love into the lives of Aden’s squad.
It should have been a halcyon image, but it didn’t fit.
An E couldn’t shield Aden, couldn’t protect him from himself, couldn’t physically take him down and tie him up so he’d rest. Aden would end up being the E’s shield. He didn’t need that added task.
What he needed, she thought as she walked into Central Command, was someone exactly like Zaira, only a little more sane. And there he was, speaking to Blake Stratton, an Arrow Zaira made it a point to avoid.
He makes my skin crawl.
Ivy had confessed that to her after Blake visited Ivy and Vasic’s home. The E had felt guilty about her response because she’d vowed to welcome all Arrows, even the ones with terrible things in their past, but Zaira had told her her instincts were correct.
Blake was the worst type of Arrow, a man who actively sought blood and death. Zaira wasn’t sure he’d make it under Aden’s leadership, but she knew it was important to Aden to give every Arrow a chance. None of them were innocent, many scarred right down to the soul.
We all start with a clean slate today, he’d said in his squadwide briefing after officially dethroning Ming. Whatever you were coerced into doing, or ordered to do, under our previous leadership lies in the past. You have the power to write your future.
Zaira figured she had to give Blake that same chance, but it didn’t mean she had to go near him. Standing back, she focused on Aden. As she’d expected, he was wearing a uniform identical to hers.
That wasn’t right.
He might want the squad to see them as a functioning pair, but at present, especially to the outside world, he was their leader, and the other races appreciated symbolism.
Catching Vasic’s eye as soon as the teleporter walked into the large common area, she made telepathic contact. I’d like to show you something.