Page 8 of Burn Her They Said
“You disarm me,” he whispers, as a new deluge of emotions courses over me, forming a wave like a tsunami.
Oh, Gods.
No. I cannot take any more of this.
Yet these are not the Sergeant’s emotions. They do not bear his signature.
Instead, it is so much worse, as their deep green means these are my own.
I suck in a sharp breath, and my lungs sting as the next wave drags me under so deeply it darkens my vision, leaving me to scramble for purchase within the riotous waters, grasping for anything to dam this deluge from filling me up further.
Panic pools in my chest as my magic fails to find a spark of calm, peace, or joy—anything to put a stop to this torment.
“Tasch,” Hendry says from somewhere above the surface while the Sergeant’s eyebrows rise in apparent shock at his casual use of my name without the title first.
I raise a hand in command as I tell him, “No.”
His presence looms closer as the undertow drags me within the ocean made up of everything I’ve needed to avoid.
Amber glimmers in my periphery, and I turn to the shimmering force-shield Hendry trudges toward, unable to see it the way I can, furrowing his brow once he smacks into it and bounces backward.
Concern for his well-being rises as he rubs his head, effectively pulling me back from the tumultuous ocean I was lost within.
Hendry glares from me to the Sergeant before yanking the canvas barrier back to ask, “Why didn’t you warn me, Malin?”
“You expected me to warn you not to walk headfirst into a force-shield Sergeant Varic placed after Tasch told you ‘no’, which I took to mean ‘stop’, as in ‘stop advancing toward me’?” Malin’s voice is riddled with derision.
“Wait.” Sergeant Varic turns in the direction of where my telekinetic Guard stands just on the other side of the partition. “Imperial Guard Malin, you’re able to sense my shield?”
“Yes,” Malin answers matter-of-factly.
All color drains from Sergeant Varic’s face. “No telekinetic has ever been able to sense my force-shield. Only my energy when I charge it to either blast or obliterate.” He swallows harshly and appears as if he is going to be sick.
I reach for him, then pause midway between our bodies when Hendry bangs his fists against the barrier of the force-shield.
“I can see it,” I blurt out, eyes widening in shock at the uncharacteristic expulsion from a witch so practiced at keeping in my thoughts.
“You can see it?” Sergeant Varic asks.
“It’s amber—like your eyes, only not as bright.” My cheeks heat with the bemused shift in his expression as he presses his lips together while a flush blossoms across his own cheekbones.
“What the fuck, Sergeant Varic?” Hendry asks, pounding his fists against the impenetrable wall. “I understand your magic is stronger than mine, but do you really have to show off like this?”
“You think I need to cast my shield to show off?”
“Why else would you prevent me from protecting my charge?”
“‘Your charge,’” Varic scoffs, before muttering, “Fucking snatchers.”
My heart drops to my stomach with the way he so casually calls Hendry the worst thing one can be referred to in our Empire—a being who takes that which does not belong to them, though one could argue our Emperor does so regularly.
Sergeant Varic shakes his head as he glares up at Hendry. “Does everyone treat her like property? Or is it just you and the Emperor?”
My heart slams against my ribs, with my own emotional assault preventing me from calming everyone in the tent.
“Imperial Lead Guard Hendry,” Lars says, pulling back the partition. “I think it’s time?—”
Hendry holds out a hand toward him. “I will determine when it is time, thank you.”
