Page 99 of Snag
“I said I wouldn’t hurt you. I’m tired of fucking repeating it.”
“That’s not the same thing, though,” I say. “Not in your mind.”
“Don’t pretend to know me.”
“The great and terrible Conduit knows all.”
“Fuck you,” he sneers.
The road twists ahead of us, cutting toward the foot of the mountains. I look out the side window, to where the clouds have dissipated over the arid plains. A congregation of vultures circle in the near distance, wings splayed and coasting on the wind. The universe tugs at me, almost half-heartedly.
As if it knows the decision has already been made.
“So that’s what you did,” I say, running my thumb across the blank screen of my phone. I should text Rought, even if Coda has already reached out. That’s … proper, right? To reach out to my … lover before —
“What?”
“You didn’t kill me,” I say. “But you did sacrifice me to save Rought and Reck.”
“Zaya …” His voice cracks. The utterance of my name is packed with barely concealed pain.
“I understand,” I say before he can cover his reaction. Or explain it. “I would never expect to matter to anyone, and certainly not more than your brothers. Previously soul bonded or not.”
The SUV navigates a final turn. The mountains fill the horizon dead ahead of us now, snow still covering their craggy peaks. But a flattened vista spreads out to the right.
In a deliberately cleared area just off the road, a single squat concrete outpost is set to the side of a paved lot. The crumbling pavement is overgrown with dead weeds at the edges. The steel front door of the outpost is barred, with a fluorescent-yellow emergency phone hanging to the right. No windows. A satellite dish is secured to the roof. Presumably, an emergency kit and rations, as well as temporary shelter, can be found within as long as the phone works, the satellite connects, or a ranger is on-site.
For the sake of whoever might otherwise be here, I hope the outpost is remotely monitored, with no rangers around. Because Bellamy stands next to an older sedan in the lot. Her athame is in one hand, a cigarette in the other.
No sign of the Authority agents or their vehicle.
I have no doubt they’re here, though.
Presh and Deville are pressed together in the back seat of Bellamy’s vehicle.
Reck veers off the road, almost rolling the SUV. Then he brings us to an abrupt stop a few meters away from Bellamy.
I lay my hand on the door handle. The universe gives me one final tug. Then that energy slips away, leaving me to my choices. Muta curls around my arm but doesn’t revert to his bracelet form.
“Zaya,” Reck says again, gaze riveted to Bellamy but his attention on me.
Ignoring him, I step out of the SUV.
TWELVE
Bellamy takesa long drag from the cigarette as I approach. In the back seat of the sedan, Presh jerks forward, mouthing words. She’s not whispering, though. An iridescent red-tinted essence collar rings the base of her neck.
“A collar?” I sneer at Bellamy. “Really? Because Precious is such a threat.”
“I couldn’t stand the chatter.” Bellamy flicks the cig away. It lands on the pavement a few feet from her, bouncing, the tip still glowing.
“And yet you started the conversation.” I stop a few strides away, aware of Reck a step behind me and to my left — closer to Bellamy’s car.
“Monitoring your ward’s communications? How invasive of you, Zaya.” Bellamy picks at something on her lip, then lightly spits. “Fuck, when I nicked it from the kid, I was hoping it was weed of some sort. But they’re just old-ass, mass-produced shit.” She sighs affectedly, leaning back against the car.
“Bellamy …” Reck snarls.
Her dark-purple-edged, whited-out eyes flick to him, ire abruptly infusing her expression. “I’m not interested in your words either, brother.”
