Page 4 of Storm Caller

It occurs to me then how unprepared I am for this. Am I supposed to keep Rook’s time at Amery a secret? They know we came from the city, but what “truth” is he hiding? I recall watching him on that bank of monitors inside Mr. Robins’s office. He was searching for something. Something he still hasn’t confessed to me.

After I was paralyzed by the stunner, Rook claimed he had things to share.

We exchange a look, and I wish I could read his mind.

Even after all the lies, a fierce surge of protectiveness compels me to keep him safe.

You are the best kind of trouble I’ve ever found in my life.

His words come back to me with a gut punch. The way he said them with so much affection. Like he feels something I’ve been too scared to name.

Or maybe I’m a fool to believe a single thing he says.

A firm hand seizes my wrist, and August starts to drag me behind him.

“Hey!” I shrink back, my feet tangling in my skirt. I’m still decked out for the year-end masquerade, though my tattered, bloodstained dress has seen better days. No wonder they’re all sneering at me. I look ridiculous. At least I have my boots and leather jacket.

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her,” Rook snarls, still hunched over and winded, so the threat loses a little of its impact. “I swear to fuck, if you hurt her, I’ll gut you from chin to asshole, August. And I’ll enjoy every fucking second.”

August’s eyes flash. His jaw tenses.

Then he releases me.

I resist the urge to rub my sore wrist, worried about Rook’s reaction. He couldn’t hurt a flea right now.

Calliope barks out a cruel laugh. “Oh, this is too much. You’re protecting a Crust? Fisher will definitely want to hear this.”

Rook exhales a heavy sigh. “If you promise not to hurt either of us, we’ll come quietly, and I’ll talk to him.”

I’m not sure why he’s trying to negotiate. We clearly have no choice. There are a dozen of them and two of us. Rook is still on death’s door, and I feel like I’m about to faint or throw up. Maybe both.

Calliope considers him. “You have the promise of my protection until we reach Station Five,” she says. “Alive and mostly intact. That’s the offer.”

She sweeps her arms around the circle, and everyone begins moving, assembling into a neat, practiced formation with Rook and me corralled at the center. They don’t tie us up, probably because there isn’t anywhere for us to run. Plus, Rook is in no shape for a speedy escape, and those stunner-like devices would have no problem bringing us down.

Rook glances at me, his lips set into a straight line.

I read the message in his eyes: keep your mouth shut, head down, trust me.

Like I have a choice.

“Our bags,” Rook croaks.

Calliope rolls her eyes and nods at two of our escorts, a woman and a man who appear to be twins, with tawny skin and amber eyes. They retrieve our packs and sling them over their shoulders.

“Any more demands?” Calliope asks.

Rook shakes his head with a sharp jerk. “Only your protection, as promised. That’s all I ask.”

She huffs out a derisive snort.

Rook presses a hand to his side as he limps a few steps. I want to help, but I suspect that would only draw more derision.

Then Calliope’s voice comes from directly behind me. “My protection, sure. But I can’t promise anything once Commander Sterling gets his hands on you.”

I spin around, planning to demand what that’s supposed to mean, and all I see is the butt of her weapon swinging at my head.

Then everything goes dark.