Page 61 of Failed State

“Oh, look! It’s the loner girl. How the hell did that weirdo get put with these smokeshows?” The canine grins toothily as she primps a bit, thrusting her chest out as her friends laugh. Sydney doesn’t respond and I almost think we’re going to get out of this without a giant mess. “She can’t keep hotties like this satisfied. I’m asking to be transferred. Men this finedeservea woman who knows how to take care ofalltheir needs.”

That gets our team leader’s attention and her head turns slowly as if she’s in that human movie about demon possession. Sydney’s eyes are dark and hollow as she looks at the group ofgirls without a flicker of recognition in them. In a blink, her hand shoots out, grabbing the wolf by the throat and whirling to slam her against the wall by the buttons. Her move was swift and brutal, leaving the girl gasping and squirming in her grip as she tries to get away.

“I will only say thisonce,” Sydney says in a flat, calm voice. It’s eerie, and I almost shiver at the lack of emotion behind it. “Women who thrive on punching down other women are worse than the human scum enslaving us. I willnot participatein stupid, childish games with you. Take your syncophants and get the fuck away from my team or I will rip your goddamn arms off, beat you to death with them, and make my first selfie a picture of your corpse with #lessonlearned in the caption.”

“But… but… you lived in the same house…” The girl wheezes and chokes for a moment as Vicious tightens and releases her hold again. “And we’re supposed to?—”

“I don’t fucking care. Bite Club isoff-limitsfor that shit. Do. You. Understand?”

“She does, she does,” sobs one of the other girls. Her friends nod, looking deathly pale when the wolf girl turns redder and redder in Sydney’s hands.

“I didn’t ask you.”

I sigh, knowing that her bear and the demon aren’t going to do a damn thing. It might be fine for her to end this bitch later on, but doing it here and now will have consequences we can’t predict. Leaning in, I place a feather-light hand at the small of it and murmur softly, “Let her go, Vicious.”

Her eyes cut to mine and the emptiness in them is startling. But she turns back to the pinned canine and growls, “Say it or you die in this lobby.”

“I understand!”

Sydney nods, removing her hand immediately and letting the girl drop to the ground in a crumpled heap. The elevator dings,doors opening, and she steps over her former prey, looking at us. “Are you coming or not?”

Honestly? I almost fucking did in my pants, thank you very much.

YOUR CLOTHES WOULD LOOK BETTER ON MY FLOOR

SYDNEY

Surprisingly,Rory touching me didn’t set me off even further, though I expected it would. Going through the humiliating process of being waxed, shaved, sculpted, tattooed, pierced, primped, and every other damn thing in their playbook for hours put me well over my personal violation lines. I didn’t even want Huck or Thad to lay a finger on me afterward, because I felt so out of control in my skin. For four years in Tempest Seven, I’ve managed to at least keep autonomy over my physical form by not engaging in any of the mind-numbing substances or casual sex other supes did, and what was it all for?

Nothing. It was for nothing because they finally took the last shred of my freedom away with that stupid session.

I swallow hard as I stare at the floor of the elevator silently. My emotions are all over the fucking place because I’m grieving the loss, while raging at the system and the people everywhere who allowed us to become little more than cattle for this fucking government full of crusty old losers who have to step on others to make themselves feel better. Oh, and enrich themselves, of course—we can’t forget how obscenely wealthy the humans who backed Taterman have become in the following years. Globalcorporations who staff and supply the camps, mercenary teams who capture the stragglers, corrupt politicians, companies that make their propaganda reinforcing merchandise, books, and media—all of them are rolling in the profits soaked in blood.

Closing my eyes as I work to regulate my breathing, I tell my brain to stop proselytizing and get a grip on the feelings, making it difficult to function. Life in Tempest hasn’t been easy, but compartmentalizing as much as possible works. I should divvy up all this shit and shove it into the appropriate boxes for later—whenever that is. But I’m not, and I don’t know why. Instead, the spread of those pesky emotions is making my skin tingle and my veins pulse with weird sensations that I cannot ignore.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Sweet pea…”

“Vicious…”

“Little rebel…”

“Syd…”

The sound of everyone but the snarky vampire saying my name feels like it’s at the end of a tunnel. There’s a light there, too, but it’s so far away, and getting smaller by the moment. I’m being consumed by the intensity of my violation slowly; I can’t seem to crawl out of the hole that fury and sadness are pulling me into.

Suddenly, my chin is yanked up and I open my eyes to stare into the crimson orbs of Sebastian Whitmore. They’re pulsing as he stares at me silently, his mouth moving to form words, but no sound is coming out. I want to fight his grip, and maybe I could if I were totally in control of myself, but right now? I have to endure the touch of someone I definitely do not trust nor want forcing their way in when I’m feeling this dirty.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, the trance snaps. My chaotic inner bullshit quiets—though it doesn’t go away—and my mind can bring the world into focus again. Breathing heavily, I lookat the vampire as he studies me carefully. “What-what are you doing?”

“Bringing you out of your spiral,” he says in a very matter-of-fact tone. “Your powers, whatever they are, are slowly emerging. Heightened emotions like you’re experiencing now can cause a break with reality if you do not learn to manage both the feelingsandyour supernatural abilities. I assume you must lock your emotions down fairly tightly on a normal basis, which means you will struggle with this quite fiercely.”

Is he saying no more boxes? How the fuck will I handle shit?

“It’s going to take a lot of work, and likely, some painful moments where you finally deal with things you long sealed up and never dealt with. But youcannotleave this undone, Sydney. Outbursts like you had at those girls are dramatic enough to be acceptable here—even if you had killed her. But what happened in this elevator is not interesting to a viewing audience and willnotbe acceptable. Plus, it’s an enormous weakness to be exploited by others.”

Thad clears his throat and says, “She’s not stupid, Whitmore.”

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