Page 55 of Tainted Souls
Lexa barks orders into her comm unit as more slayers descend from the trees, securing the perimeter and checking for stragglers. At last, she turns to me. “We need to get you both back to the city. General’s orders.”
“I need to retrieve my dagger first,” I insist, my wounds throbbing painfully. “It was my spare.”
Fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt, Lexa holds out my lumen dagger, its teal glow casting a faint light on her skin. “This one?”
“How did you—”
“Hard to miss with a trail of blood marking the way.” She hands it to me, then ducks under my arm and helps me move. “Medical team is standing by.”
A transport arrives within minutes, its engines humming quietly as it hovers just above the forest ground.
Slayers load Max onto a stretcher while a medic examines my wounds.
“You have been flagged as missing persons,” Lexa informs me as the transport lifts off. “Chief Penn is not happy.”
I lean my head back against the metal wall of the aircraft, suddenly exhausted. “Story of my life.”
As the medic cleans and dresses my wounds, I catch Lexa watching me, her expression unreadable.
“I thought about contacting you,” she says. “After what happened with your father and the others.”
The medic’s hands pause before continuing their work—everyone knows about the massacre.
“Why didn’t you?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.
Her shoulders slump. “I figured you needed space. Distance from everything that reminded you of that day.”
“I did.” I wine as the medic applies pressure to my wound. “But it would’ve been nice to know someone from before still cared.”
“You’re right.” She hesitates, her head dipping low. “Perhaps it was me that needed space. I lost people too that day.”
I absorb her words, feeling the old wound pulse beneath the fresh one, the memory of that night hanging between us. Just like Mira and Henry, Lexa was on assignment elsewhere. But unlike Lexa, they escaped death only to have it find them again years later.
“Mira and Henry…” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I wonder if she knows how close she came to sharing their fate in Blackham. If she realizes that the same white-haired demon who slaughtered our comrades years ago was likely watching from the shadows as she collected my broken body.
Lexa’s face tightens, a muscle in her jaw working silently before she speaks. “I know.”
The medic finishes bandaging my wound and moves away, giving us privacy.
“What happened out there?” Lexa asks, changing the subject.
I narrow my eyes, searching for the right words to explain something I barely understand myself.“Do you believe sire bonds are real? I thought they were just a myth.”
“If there’s anything I’ve learned over the years, it’s that most things we dismiss as myths have some truth to them. Especially when it comes to vampires.”
I nod, unable to disagree with her. “I think I’ve just witnessed one.”
Lexa accepts it in silence, her expression tightening slightly, but she doesn’t push for more.
As the lights of Penn City grow larger through the transport’s windows, my thoughts drift to past memories of us together.
When Lexa and I first met, both of us twelve and new recruits at Redmoore Academy, we spent more time at odds than in agreement. I remember her striding into the training hall, all exemplary posture and unwavering confidence. While the rest of us were nervous wrecks, Lexa moved like she already belonged there.
“You’re holding it wrong,” were her first words to me during knife training. Not exactly the foundation for a friendship.
“I’ve been handling knives since I was eight,” I shot back, irritated at being corrected by another recruit.
She raised an eyebrow, took the blade from my hand, and demonstrated the proper grip. “Now you’ll be able to strike better.”
