“And you have the power to give me this story?” She was intrigued but still not sold.
“Maybe. We’ll see how things go.”
Justin didn’t actually know for sure that he could get Daphne exclusive rights to the story about the Gemman girls liberated from Arcadia, but he had a feeling that once he talked to Lucian, the senator would be more than willing to use an independent journalist if it meant keeping other more clandestine affairs off in the shadows.
“Then sit back, and I’ll tell you what I know.” She was playing it cool, but her body language told him she really wasn’t confident in her story’s credibility. That was a good sign for him and for Lucian.
“No,” he said. No way was he going to invite a discussion of the elect in public. “Not here.” Triumphant, he stood up and gestured toward the door. “Let’s go talk about this somewhere quieter. You said you lived nearby?”
She stayed seated and looked him over from head to toe. “You know, I’ve looked into you too. You don’t think I know what it means when you invite yourself over to a woman’s place?”
“I think it means I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime,” he said cheerfully. “And a great chance for your career too. As for how it all unfolds . . . well, that’ll depend on you, Miss Lang. Are you coming or not?”
She hesitated a moment more before standing up and joining him. “I’m coming.”
CHAPTER 28
Gods Who Deliver
Mae had thought she’d feel at home, once she was back in uniform and on assignment with other praetorians. Three months ago, she would have. She would’ve fallen in line with this group—a mix from the Maize and Azure cohorts—without a second thought, easily slipping into the roles given to them by their country. But even though she sat comfortably and made casual conversation with them in the base’s mess hall, she couldn’t shake the sense of “otherness” she now felt in their presence. She’d seen too many things and done too many things, things that went beyond even these super soldiers’ experience. She envied them in some ways. They still had the simplicity of their beliefs, that even in their dangerous assignments, their superiors still had everything under control and were making the correct decisions. Mae no longer believed that.
This is Justin’s fault, she thought.
Immediately, she knew that was unfair. In the past, she’d been able to lay any number of grievances at his feet, but not this new world view of hers. Having her eyes opened to the insidious forces lurking beneath the surface of her reality was the result of many factors, some of which had been in play since the time of her birth. Like her, he was simply trying to stay afloat in these treacherous waters. He’d even tried to help her, but she’d thrown it back in his face.
No . . . now she was being unfair to herself. She’d tried to help him. She’d come here to remove that temptation from him so that he could be free of divine entrapment. If she was gone, that god—whoever he was—could no longer use her as a bargaining chip against Justin. She wished Justin could’ve seen it that way, but the pain in his face had suggested otherwise. It hadn’t helped matters that what she’d seen in him had pretty much been a mirror of what she felt inside of her.
He’ll get over me, she thought. He has to. He’s probably picking up someone in a bar as I sit here. He’s never been serious about anyone. Why should I think I’m special? Hopefully he’ll stick to women who have no involvement in the supernatural.
But as she thought about that last night, the things he’d said to her, the protective way he’d held her in sleep . . . Mae knew she was being unfair to him yet again. That made her own healing process that much harder. Far easier to believe that he didn’t care. And Mae had no interest in seeking quick distraction in the arms of another—though she’d had plenty of opportunities. A few guys had already made flirty passes at her, in that way praetorians had between active assignments. She’d rebuffed them all politely—despite her internal fear and revulsion—wanting to keep things friendly with her new comrades but unable to imagine herself opening her body up to anyone anytime soon. That encounter with the phantom-Justin had scarred her deeply, leaving a taint on her that she couldn’t shake.
“Going to Mexico soon, praetorian?”
An officer in the gray-and-maroon of the regular military sat down beside her at the table, which she hadn’t even realized had emptied of the other praetorians she’d eaten with. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that time had slipped by. She’d been unable to muster much of an appetite, and an uncharacteristic headache was now coming on. She rubbed the back of her head, waiting for the implant to dull the pain.
“Yes, sir.” The man’s uniform identified him as a major, putting them roughly at the same rank. Technically, he might be a little higher, but the praetorians were in a separate branch and ordering system. “I came in with a group from Vancouver. We’re waiting for another bunch to join us before heading out. Are you going?”
“You might see me there.” He crossed his long legs and leaned back in the chair, striking a remarkably casual pose for someone of his rank, even if he was off-duty. “It’s certainly my kind of place. All sorts of chaos there. Did they give you any of the background? That it’s an area Arcadian settlers took to a while ago? Unfortunately for them, it’s full of oil, which even the RUNA can’t entirely shake its need for. So off to war we go. It’ll be grand, I’m sure.”
Mae looked him over uneasily. If they weren’t actually in the middle of a base, she might’ve thought he was someone dressing up in costume. “Are you sure? We were told this is an area that wants to become a Gemman protectorate but keeps getting threatened by Arcadians and other local dissidents.”
He gave her an exaggerated wink with hazel eyes that bordered on yellow. “Yes, of course they told you that. That’s a much nicer story. Much easier to believe you’re fighting against nasty insurgents instead of innocent settlers who just want to be left alone—even if they are Arcadians. I understand you’re not the biggest fan of their culture, and I can’t really blame you there. A place like that has no appreciation for a girl of your talents.”
“Who are you?” she asked, a chill running through her. Her involvement in Arcadia was highly classified. No one of his rank should know. Gan had granted her this reassignment, but now she wondered if he’d done it with strings. Had he sent someone to spy on her?
“A great fan of yours, Praetorian Koskinen,” he said softly. He leaned toward her and smiled. Aside from the unusual eyes, the rest of his features were uniformly plebeian, and his long face, though handsome, had an odd quality that made it difficult for her to pin an age on him. Thirties, maybe? “A very, very great fan. I thought you and I might never meet, but fate unfolds in a way that even the gods can’t predict.”
Mae stiffened. “You’re one of the elect.”
“Please,” he scoffed. “Don’t belittle me. I’ve said nothing but nice things to you.”
“Then what are you?” she demanded, her thoughts spinning, despite the pain of her growing headache. Was this some entity like Justin’s ravens?
“Someone in need of a Valkyrie, and I’d like you to be mine. I’ve always wanted one, and as I said, I’m a great fan of yours. I think the two of us would get on beautifully, and I’d do much better things for you than Freya ever could.”
Mae almost laughed. “You talk like you’re a—” She stopped, unable to say the word.
He tilted his head. “Yes? Do go on.”
“That’s impossible,” she said, looking around uneasily. Surely, surely if she were having a conversation with a god in the middle of a cafeteria, someone else would notice. But all those gathered, soldiers and civilians alike, moved about their business as though Mae and her companion didn’t exist.