Page 64 of Failed State

I lied—the dragon had the least done to him, even though he was living the roughest of us all.

Before anyone can respond, the demon jumps in. “Highlights, wax, and the team tattoo on my arm. They already had the rings in places, but they added nipples and a belly button for no good reason. My tatts weren’t in need of touch-ups—that’s a demon thing a lot like the dragon’s—and they tried a few shots that I suspect won’t do a damned thing to demons. We’re highly resistant to… just about everything humans have ever come up with.”

“Except holy water?”

“Aw, sweet pea, you know that’s a dad gummed myth. Don’t be ridiculous.” The demon pushes his hat up and gives her a slow, fond smile I can tell is making her squirm. “But you’re welcome to try throwing some at me if I can get naked first.”

Her eyes widen, and the joking atmosphere is sucked away as Sydney shakes her head. “No… no. That’s, um, okay. Thanks, Huck.”

Looking at her, I arch a brow as I ask, “Do I have to go before you will admit what we need to know? I’d think you would be less than eager to hear about my modifications.”

“You’d be right, but here we are.” That statement is followed by a very sarcastic looking smile and since it’s not the sad face she’s been making since we left the session, I’m going to allow her the victory.

“Fine, but note that this process for my kind is… less straightforward than the others.” Sydney frowns, but nods, and I clear my throat. “First, they hooked me up to an IV to infuse various blood and whatever else they wanted to use to… mutate the nutrients within it. That’s nothing new and happened at home frequently. I’m not going into vampire lore entirely, but it wasn’t surprising. They did not opt to add piercings, as I have enough as it is. Tattoos are tricky for us as well, so they applied the team logo differently.”

“What way?” Sydney asks curiously.

“By branding.” I hold up my forearm with the bandage wrapped around it and shrug. “Not the worst thing I’ve survived, but not pleasant, either. Waxing and the rest as with most of you. However, whatever they’ve used the blood to induce will take a few days to have an effect. We’ll know better what they hoped to achieve once it’s absorbed into my system fully.”

“What does that even mean, Bas?”

I give her a shrug, shaking my head. “It will be more easily understood by seeing the results than by spending time lecturing you on specific supernatural biology. Now, tell us what we need to know so we can order food. This little tête-à-tête has been a trifle exhausting.”

Her head dips and she looks at her hands before sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly. I’d bet she’s counting in her mind. When she looks up, her expression is blank again. “Highlights. Injections. Team tattoo. Implant renewal. Teeth whitening. Injections. Tattoos. Pierced nipples and genitals. Tanning. Makeup. Waxing. Stitching. Lashes. Exams.”

That said, she pops to her feet, glaring at us. “Someone order me a pizza. I’m going to my room.”

Well, that ended well. Hopefully, food and the mage will bring her out of this.

WALLOWING ISN’T PRETTY

SYDNEY

Closingthe bedroom door behind me firmly, I lean against the wood and suck in deep breaths. I don’t know why I’m so upset or why this—of all things—has sent me right over the edge of sanity. All the indignities, the deaths, the subjugation in the camps… None of it is as violating as losing control of the one thing I thought I’d kept for me.

I guess Iknowwhy I’m freaking out, but that doesn’t help me deal with it.

“There’s just nothing left for me,” I murmur as my eyes slip close and I tip my chin up to the ceiling. “Everything is theirs.”

A soft knock makes the door vibrate behind my body, and I jump, then freeze. The voice is low, but gentle as it says, “Vicious, let me in.”

I don’t open my eyes as I consider Rory’s demand. Of everyone in this suite, he’s probably the one who would understand how I’m feeling the most. But he’s also dangerous to my focus, especially when my jumbled psyche is ready to admit defeat regarding my convictions. My brain also wants to shoot back that I can take care of myself—because I can—so the rest of them don’t think a pretty face can sway me.

“C’mon, Sydney. I get why you’re losing your shit. I can help.”

I’ll just bet he can.

Snorting, I blow out a long, slow breath, then say, “I want to be alone, Rory. I can’t… deal with being perceived right now.”

He’s quiet for so long that I can visualize the question mark dancing around his head. Eventually, he says, “Sometimes, you think way too hard, Vicious. And while I’m not stupid, I don’t let my logic brain override my ability to experience emotions. Youneedsomeone to help you with that right now.”

I wrinkle my nose, not liking his implication. “I feel plenty of things.”

“You know I didn’t mean you’re emotionless. I meant you push too many things down to your toes for later, and today, your shoes got full. You need to open the release valve or you won’t be able to do what we want to do.”

Damn it, he’s right and I want to punch him for it.

“Fine,” I murmur as I push off the door and step away so he can open it. “You can come in. But no one else. I can’t… I need space.”

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