Page 63 of Failed State

Getting people to follow a revolution will be a lot harder if the assholes here can trick the globe into believing that everyone is being treated like we are now. I frown as I consider the alternative—we won’t win them over if we’re not picture perfect and worshippable, either. Humans are the most naïve and easily led species on the planet, which is how we ended up in this mess.I just don’t know if everything we’re being taught is going to be enough to do whathasto be done. It’s infuriating, and I have no way to muddle it out when we’re trapped in this holding pattern.

“There she is!”

My head turns when the mage cheerily announces the woman in the center of this messy rebellion. Sydney changed into comfortable clothes, but the work they did on her remains. She was pretty beforehand—even I’ll admit that—but now she’s absolutely stunning. It’s a fact that works heavily in our favor, but she will need to stop making a face like she’s swallowed a pound of lemons. The grumpy badass trope works well for her, but it can’t be her only image.

People need to root for her… to love her. That’s how we’ll gather the troops.

“Yes, yes. I’m here, hurrah,” Sydney drawls as she heads for the couch, dropping in between her two sidekicks. “I look ridiculous, given the state of everyone in this damn camp, and I’m pissed as fuck about having to give up the last vestiges of my personal freedom for this.Don’tmake me lose my shit, dickheads.”

The demon tips his hat back, looking at her fondly before he murmurs, “Just because they did some shit on the outside doesn’t mean they touched the inside, sweet pea. None of the polishing they did changed who you are and it never will.”

“Iknowthat, Huck. I just…”

Her voice trails off and there’s something in the intonation that catches my attention. This truly upset her, and it’s deeper than being told what to do. Something about the session has wounded her in a way that is significant and she doesn’t want to share that—even with her friends. Allowing them to re-make her into their vision has violated our sassy leader, and it’s traumatizing her as we speak.

“Sydney, no one is going to push you to relate how you feel. However, we should all be familiar with what they did to us so we can use it to our advantage. It’s more than hair dye and makeup, so the information could be useful.”

She looks at me defiantly, but the spark of sorrow is still in her eyes. “If you say so, Bas. I don’t know how recounting tatts or piercings or implants affect a damn thing, but hey… Who am I to protest?”

That’s concerning in so many ways, but the others keep looking at her encouragingly—except for the mage. His eyes are narrowed on Sydney and I think he’s figured out the same thing I have. I’m not the person to help her work this shit out; she’s still working out how she feels about me after the revelation. But someone needs to talk with her—that much is extremely clear. I tilt my head, hoping the blond mage will notice, and when he does, I nod a little. Luckily, I think he gets it. That or he’s just grinning because he’s perpetually a fucking golden retriever, I’m not sure which.

“You’re a member of the team, obviously, and that’s important,” I reply smoothly. I don’t want to get into a piss fight with her when she’s clearly vulnerable, so I cloak my irritation at the flip response behind my normal detachment. “And if anyone disagrees with me, we can discuss it.”

Thad frowns, then shrugs. “Your premise is sound, I think. The target audiences are meant to form attachments to us and possibly ship things, so knowing beforehand what we can use to feed those rumors isn’t a bad idea.”

“Agreed,” Huck says as he drapes an arm along the back side of the couch. I think he’s watching the unusually quiet woman, too, but he’s obviously an expert at hiding his concern. “And I’m not shy, so I’ll show and tell if need be.”

Sydney’s eyes widen, and she slaps his leg immediately. “Huckleberry Monroe, you willnot.”

That makes both the demon and the bear laugh, so it must be a normal reaction for her. It was adorably schoolmarm-ish, but I can’t see why a woman her age would be so?—

Oh, fuck me raw with a spiked strap-on. That’s why she’s so on edge.

Now that I’ve realized what I absolutely never should have missed in a million years, Sydney’s reticence about her session makes sense. Her body is the one thing she’s kept for herself—for whatever reason—and now she’s lost control of it. Probably puts her entire worldview in yet another free-fall like my story did, and she wasn’t done dealing with the fallout of that yet.

“I think telling one another is probably sufficient,” Dante finally says. “But I will agree as well.”

Navigating this now that I have the knowledge of why Sydney is so touchy will not be easy. Stormbringer may well help her come to terms later, but for now, I’m not sure how delicate her psyche is. Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying fuck about this kind of shit, mind you. But getting the rest of them to see me as a part of their team rather than the enemy is important if I want to stay alive and get the fuckheads like my father out of power.

“Who’s going to start?” I look around the room, brow arched as I study the others. I’d wager they did very little to punch up the dragon’s ‘bad boy’ aesthetic; hopefully, Dante volunteers to ease the rest into this.

“You all know I don’t give a fuck,” Rory declares as he stands and spins in place. “Tanning, sculpting, waxing, tattoo upgrades, including the team one I assume we all got.” He points to the bandage at the base of his neck near his collarbone, then continues. “They changed out the jewelry in my ears and added nipples, plus a special new piece in my PA. Bleach to keep my highlights nice, and shots that I assume contain who the fuck knows what to strengthen muscles, etc. Nothing outof the ordinary for maintenance in my previous life, so I’m not pressed.”

Sydney’s face gets red at the mention of his steel, and I’m fairly certain that it’s only going to get worse. Stormbringer is the flirtiest out of our group, but unless my typically accurate assessments of people are incorrect, he’s definitelynotthe most bent out of the group. I doubt he comes anywhere near the demon or me. The bear’s likely the most vanilla about sex, so he’ll be uncomfortable when he figures out the spectrum of deviancy represented in this room. I believe our royal dragon falls squarely in the middle of the two camps, which I’ll admit, interests me. But the girl in the middle of this mass of testosterone has faked her way through these questions for a while without being caught; that means she has the knowledge, but no experience.

My inclination is to show her, and I know that’s never going to happen.

Thad saves me by sighing as he stacks his hands behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. I have to hide the smug smirk on my face as he finally says, “Tanning. Highlights. Wax—which fuck that, by the way—and the team tattoo on my pec because it blended with the ursa clan tattoos. They touched those up; I’ll have to explain that massive breach of bear protocol later. They also stuck a fucking hoop where it doesn’t belong in my dick. There.”

His blunt admission makes the rest of us guys look at one another, amusement flittering over our faces briefly before we burst into laughter. This guy is absolutely their icon of ‘boy next door’ and the fact that they had to add a Prince Albert—I assume—to give him a little ‘edge’ is pretty hysterical. His reaction is even better, and the look on Sydney’s face is giving me more life than a blood bag at the moment.

“Yes, well. Okay, that’s two.” I say after I cough. “Next?”

Dante shifts his enormous bulk, crossing his arms over his chest before he answers. “I had tattoos all over prior. They did not touch them up as I specifically explained the magic of dragons tattoos and what would happen if they tried. Since it is notmymagic that controls them, the implants we have would not have saved their lives.”

“Holy shit, that’s cool,” our girl says with the first tiny smile she’s flashed all night. “Good for you.”

The dragon shrugs with a nonchalant look. “I felt I should be honest with them about the consequences of messing with a royal alpha dragon. So they gave me the team ink on my neck.” He points to the bandage on the left side of his neck with an eye roll. “I had a ladder already, but they added a bolt to the forks in my tongue. No dye or injections—another thing that works poorly with my kind. They did rip hair with their wax and it wasn’t nearly as fun as better uses for wax. That’s about it.”

---