Page 285 of Scarlet Wars
No questions. No apologies.
Only the unspoken certainty whatever this was, whatever was about to come next, we were in it together.
“How the hell are you alive?” James demanded, the small knife still clenched in his hand. “I fucking watched you die!”
Maurice’s composure faltered, just a hair, but enough. “Look, we don’t have time for this. Emma needs to understand her role in the greater scheme of things, and?—”
“Then make time,” I hissed, as my patience snapped clean in half. “I have a lot of questions,father, and I want every single one answered.”
“Father?” Caden echoed.
“Oh, yes.” I let out a humorless laugh. “You’ve missed some very fun surprises.” I gestured at Maurice. “Meet Gordon—also known as my genetic father—also known as Maurice. Creator of the bubble.”
“What the hell?” James mumbled, blade raised high, his grip white-knuckled. “Why the hell wouldyoububble in our entire country? It killed three Cyclos children!”
Maurice didn’t flinch. “And I am sorry for my part in their deaths,” he said coolly. “But the bubble was necessary.”
“Why?” The word scraped out of me, thin and shaking.
Maurice’s gaze locked onto mine, assessing me. “You really don’t know?”
“To catch me?” I said, even as the answer felt wrong in my mouth, but it was the only reason I could think of.
“To catchyou?” His laugh was short and incredulous. “Why would I ever create a bubble you can translate beneath if my goal was to catchyou?”
I blinked, my thoughts stalling. “Then…to catch someone else?”
Caden cursed under his breath. “Of course. I should’ve known.”
My head snapped toward him. “Known what?”
But Caden wasn’t looking at me. His stare was fixed on James, with his jaw tight. “We haven’t been able to reach himall year,” he said grimly. “All year, he’s been looking for Gordon. Who’s beenhereall along.”
My stomach dropped when realization sunk in. “You bubbled in an entire country,” I said slowly, as I turned my focus back on Maurice, “to findStephen?”
“How else do you catch a rat with Specialist powers and diplomatic immunity across the entire world?” Maurice snarled, before he flicked his wrist.
Reality ripped open beside us—a portal this time—and the stench of blood hit me first.
Then I saw him.
Stephen Stone chained to restraints bolted into stone, what remained of his body slack, head drooping against his chest.
His arms ended in ragged stumps where his forearms should have been, blood dripping steadily from torn flesh and pooling beneath him.
His skin was split open in too many places to count. His face—Gods—his face was almost unrecognizable.
He looked worse than anyone I’d ever seen survive anything.
“Jesus—fuck,” I breathed, the air tearing out of my lungs. “You’ve had him all along?”
Maurice nodded, maddeningly calm. “Yeah. And as you can see, I’ve had a lot of fun with him.”
My gaze snagged on what was left of Stephen’s arms, the empty ends of them. “Why?” I whispered. “Why torture him to this extent?”
“I needed something he wasn’t willing to give.”
Caden scoffed beside me. “Thanks for that elaborate clarification.”
