Page 8 of Echoes of War

Sloan had been vindictive in every interaction we’d had since we had all arrived weeks ago, yet when it came to the average citizen, she had been soft. Her and Amaia were the same in that aspect. Strong leaders who would do anything to protect those they deemed deserving of preserving their innocence and happiness. They couldn’t care less if it came at the cost of their own peace. The difference between them however came down to something that could not be taught; knowing when you have to cross a line, blur a line, or pretend that you can’t see a damn line at all.

This life and the life I’d led Before had taught me a lot, but the most important lesson had been simple. If you had never walked the path of a monster, never been hellbent, then you would never truly understand the courage it takes to hold immense power, yet still embrace tenderness.

That was one of the less infuriating traits of Amaia. She handled the suck, no matter the means. Hell, she made better decisions than I would if I were in her shoes, better than most people I knew would too.Not like that was saying anything. We all saw how St. Cloud had turned out.

Didn’t matter much anyway, Sloan’s people were thoroughly fucked. Double fucked if I couldn’t make this connection with thebrujas. I made my way through the city center, the pack on my back filled with essentials to last me a week-long trip.

Sloan had grudgingly cleared me to take one of their solar powered trucks, the roads were clear until around the halfway point. I’d have to walk the rest of the way, which would take a fewextra days. There would be no complaints from me on that detail. St. Cloud territory was uncomfortably close to St. Paul. The less attention I could draw, the better.

Cold, bony fingers grabbed the back of my neck. I whipped around, latching on to a long leather coat, shoving my attacker into the wall of the closest building. Arrows clattered against the red brick and I met crazed electric blue eyes.

“Where are you going?” I asked, noting the small bag attached to the pouch for her arrows.

Reina’s tongue graced over her teeth, “Where areyougoing, Alexi?”

I let her go with an exasperated sigh. The last thing I needed to do was place Reina on a psych hold when Amaia was on the fucking verge of losing her shit.

“To get you some witches. Now, where areyougoing?”

“Mind your business,” she hissed. Her eyes darted toward the ground, she was up to something.

“Oh, you’re up to no good,” I said, a smirk pulling at the corner of my mouth. “I want in on it.”

Despite the constant state of busyness that existed to keep this place from falling, I was bored as hell. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to be better, or at the very least be a better person than the one who had raised me. What a rude awakening it was to discover being good was boring. There had to be a middle ground. A slightly darker option.

The bad that fought for the good.

“I doubt what I’m up to will win you any favor with Amaia.” Her words were sharp, maybe Amaia was right, maybe forgivenesswasoff the table for some. That would ruin her, and I refused to stand by and watch it happen.

“Who cares what she thinks? Trouble, as your father likes to say, was bred into me. If you’re up to no good, chances are you’ll need my help.”

Though my offer was sincere, I couldn’t help but hope I may find a way to get through to Reina in the process of helping her. She’d found out that the people she loved were no good. Now, she had to decide whether that meant she should love them anyway or hate them the way the world does. No matter the softer sides she’d seen to both her father and brother, the world would only see one version of them. Monster.

I knew what that was like. Hating your provider of life was a complicated thing. She would need family to help her through. To keep her from slipping from the light.

She snorted, “I don’t need help from Amaia’s little lap dog. I’ve gotten away with hiding my shenanigans my whole life, don’t need your help now.”

I eyed her curiously. Yeah, I guess shedidhave a knack for hiding things. Still, one thing bothered me.

“I’m not her lap dog,” I ground out.

“Doesn’t matter where I’m going. Now I’m coming with you,” she drawled, brushing past me back toward the busy street.

“No. Do you know what she’ll?—”

Reina whirled around, the thick sweater and scarf peeking from beneath her coat. “Thought you weren’t her lap dog?”

Rage danced in her stormy eyes, her long brown hair whipped in front of her face, stark against her pale flushed cheeks. I saw every drop of that Moore blood in her. There was no stopping her, she was coming whether I’d wanted it or not. It was easy to see how she’d talked Amaia into coming along the journey here, why Amaia hadn’t pushed back more.

“Okay,” I relented.

“See.” She strode up to me, patting me on the head. “This is why I like you. Good doggy.”

A glimmer of the old Reina shone through as I grumbled, shaking her off.

“This way.” I gestured. “It’s a week-long trip and there’s not enough daylight left for you to go back and pack. Hope what you have is enough. If you can’t keep up, I’m leaving you behind to pick up on the way back.”

She scoffed. “Pshh, did you miss that entire journey? I kicked ass.Youkeep up withme, lap dog. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll even share some of my hunt.”

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