Page 89 of Son of a Witch

True. “Either way I’m in a tricky situation, Knoxe. I made the choice that’s going to get me out of here. Dumb maybe. I just have to be extra careful.”

“You’re a brave man.” Loco came up and thumped me on the shoulder. “Even crazier than me. And that’s saying something.”

My arms twitched with protest as I threw my arms around him. “Thanks, Dad.”

Loco went to hit me and stopped when Astra glowered at him. “Call me that again, young man, and I’ll cut your tongue out.”

I barked out a laugh. “I don’t doubt it. Da… Loco.” I nudged him with my elbow, and he grunted then moved aside.

This Superguy played with fire. Always had. Always would.

Power coursed through every nerve, tendon, and muscle, and I flexed my hands in and out of a fist. I felt like Rubis, the down-on-his-luck accountant, diagnosed with terminal cancer, given a second chance at life when he let a symbiote live inside his throat. In exchange for his new life, Rubis agreed to hunt down the enemy that nearly wiped out the symbiote’s species, becoming a hero to the galaxy.

Like Rubis, I achieved the impossible through an unexpected miracle. Fate charged me with the task of exacting revenge and capturing Styx and his rogue vampire faction.

Supergal came up to me, her eyes pools of apprehension that burned me to the core. “Tor, are you sure?”

I brought her in for that embrace that Pascal gave her earlier that I never thought I’d get to do again. “I’m sure, Supergal. Have some faith.” I wasn’t about to let her down and make her question her choice to stay with us.

My lips burned to kiss her. Sparks shot from my feet to my head. I wanted to lift her into my arms. Too much, too soon. My body had to get used to moving with the exoskeleton first before I tried anything like that. I already pushed the limits by signing my insurance away to return to duty. For now, I was content to be wrapped around her.

I just hoped the machine didn’t fail me. That it was my ticket out of here. Because I couldn’t take another heartbreak.

CHAPTER30

Tor

Restless heat coursedthrough my veins, and I just wanted to get out of the prison. Get back into the thick of it. Out on duty for a mission. Catch a lead on Knoxe’s secret investigation. Unveil more clues to track down the missing prisoners and gantii. Apprehend us some deserters. Pry out answers in a good old torture session.

“Everyone clear on the brief?” Selena eyed every member of the team, earning nods and grunts in response, snapping my attention out of my thoughts.

Our fearless new leader could have been talking about aliens for all I knew. I tuned out way back, my mind on competing thoughts. Approval to go on missions. Getting itchy waiting for the warden to approve the risk assessment on my exoskeleton for deployment on missions. Earning my way back into his good graces and earning back our monthly privilege to visit our families—privileges Vartros stripped from us for harboring Raze. Benefits I might never warrant given my stunt with telling my mom I was incarcerated. All the way to examining the contents of Knoxe’s USB.

Selena’s gaze bounced to me. “Tor? You clear on the brief?”

“Yeah,” I grunted, shifting under her piercing gaze.

I’d make up something. Check the weather radar and search for strange anomalies like the ones I found three days ago. Perform other standard searches on social media and news for sightings of the prisoners, gantii, or vamps. Find another way to be a hero. A keyboard warrior. Locate the pricks who beat and stabbed my team and me, assaulted my girl, put glass in Pascal and Astra’s meals, leaving us all with trauma, nightmares, and PTS fucking D.

Selena tilted her head at me the way my mom used to when I was about to get scolded. “Tor, I expect you to take part in team meetings, regardless of whether you leave the prison or not. Your input to the team is invaluable.”

The consolation speech. Save it. I knew what my role was. Support the team with research to crack the case. I itched for something other than action on the keyboard.

Cole completed the adjustments to the exoskeleton days ago when he delivered it to the prison. Carmichael hooked me up to his machines to test the response of my damaged nerves, assess my extent of movement, flexibility, agility, and strength. I wasn’t anywhere near where I used to be. Forty percent. Probably in better shape than damn Loco, yet I was still grounded. Every spare moment since then, the doctor and I worked our asses off to build my strength and prepare me for the day I got the go-ahead.

Meanwhile, Vancor put Cole’s exoskeleton through every possible test with the Guardian engineers. Uneasiness and impatience brewed in my gut. Where Vartros fast-tracked things while the iron was hot, Vancor dragged his heels. Tick fucking tock. It seemed like I’d be dead before I got the warden’s approval to leave the facility.

I met Selena’s gaze. “Can you have a word to the warden again?”

“We have to follow the process,” Selena reminded me.

Fuck process. I already signed away my rights. Absolved the Guardians of responsibility if anything went wrong with the exoskeleton when I was outside the prison.

She patted my hand and let go, backing away a few paces. “I’ll see what I can do. He seems like a very thorough man, though.”

“Thanks.” I flashed her a grateful smile backed with stewing resentment.

Selena went from being motherly to a leader in the space of a heartbeat. “While we’re out studying the veil distortions and collecting samples, I want you reviewing the weather radar and social media for updates.”

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