Kelly Meding - Wrong Side of Dead

Evacuate. It’s a foreign word to me, and one I just can’t assign to Boot Camp. We’ve always been here. Okay, realistically, we’ve been here about eight years, but for every Hunter currently active, it’s always been here. It’s been our heart, the lifeblood of the Triads. Leaving it all behind feels like walking away from a funeral—fully aware that what I’m walking away from is never coming back, no matter how much I want it to.

We have a city to protect. We have able-bodied Hunters and Handlers who need someone to guide them. If all the brass are truly dead, someone has to step up and make decisions. Maybe Kismet or Baylor, I don’t know. Wyatt’s obviously turned his back on everything he once believed in.

No, not going there. Just thinking Wyatt’s name infuriates me all over again, and makes me second-guess returning, coming back into his life when he’s managed to accept that I was gone. I should have stayed away, for both of our sakes.

Phineas is smart to approach from a wide angle, giving me plenty of time to see him. I am so not in the mood to be startled. He has a bottle of water and a banana, and he’s stripped out of his black shirt and shoulder holsters. Given the heat, I kind of wish I could strip down a little more. I might have, too, if I wasn’t so embarrassed about my starved and tortured appearance.

“They’re bringing food out of the cafeteria,” Phin says as he stoops under the tent. He squats in front of me and holds out the banana. “Hungry?”

“Famished. Thank you.” I start to peel the banana, more grateful than I can properly convey. The first bite is too sweet, too sticky, but I force it down anyway, glad it’s solid. It isn’t a milkshake. And it isn’t lemon.

My stomach clenches and twirls at the memory of those awful protein smoothies, and I choke on the second bite. Spit it out. Phin takes the banana away and presses the bottle of water into my hand. I manage a few sips. Much more and I’ll probably vomit for real.

“I’m sorry, Evy.”

“Not your fault. You have no idea how much I want to be able to eat that.” Almost as much as I want a cold shower. I rinsed my hands before hiding in the tent of death, but my body is sticky with blood, sweat, and a layer of grime that looks like a second skin. If I look half as gross as I feel …

“Perhaps something blander.”

“Something tells me the kitchen isn’t taking orders.”

His mouth quirks. “Once we leave, then. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

“I have nowhere to go, Phin.” The words eject themselves before I can self-edit, and a pang of sadness sits heavily in my chest. It isn’t completely true—I still have the old apartment on Cottage Place. I just don’t want to go back there. And so far, no one has offered me an alternative. Or asked for my help.

He frowns, eyebrows furrowing. “You assume Wyatt won’t ask you to accompany him?”

“Well, he didn’t seem too keen on the idea the last time we talked.”

“Wyatt is used to being in control, to making his own decisions. He’s now part of something over which he does not have complete control.”

I snort, then sip more water. Still hot, still queasy, but definitely less likely to barf at any moment. “So who is in control? This Astrid chick?”

“Please don’t call her ‘chick’ to her face. And yes, Astrid was the leader of the Assembly’s private security force. She helped clean up Belle’s mess last month. She also delivered punishment to Snow.”

Impressive résumé. “Felia?”

“Correct.”

So eye color really does run in Clans, as every copper-eyed were I’ve met so far has been Felia. Phin shares bright blue eyes with Joseph, Aurora, and Ava—the last of his own Clan of birds-of-prey shifters. “How about the others?”

“Marcus is Felia, as well. Leah is Ursia and Kyle is Cania.”

“Leah is a bear?” I can’t help the brief bubble of laughter at the idea of the slight woman with multicolored hair shifting into a bear—grizzly, black, panda, or teddy. It seems too ridiculous.

As if I have room to judge.

“So how’d Wyatt get mixed up in the Assembly’s little task force?” I ask.

“He was invited, same as I.”

“By Astrid?”

“Yes.”

“So she decides who to let in?”

“Mostly, but Marcus is her second, and his opinion carries a lot of weight.”

Terrific . “Any other humans?”

Phin hesitates. “Not at present. Tybalt was considered, but his loyalty to Gina Kismet and her team made him too great a risk.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Please understand, Evy, this isn’t personal. The Assembly has long seen a need to protect itself and its Clans, and now we have the means and the outside support to do so.”

“Outside support.”

He presses his lips together, an indeterminate emotion passing across his face like a shadow. “I can’t promise anything except this: you will have somewhere to go. When you were—when you went with Thackery, the Assembly was … honored by your sacrifice.”

“Phin—”

“Please, Evy.” He takes my hand and squeezes it tight. “The other Elders saw a human Hunter trade herself for a Dreg whom she called a friend. Astrid was assigned to look for you. Wyatt was out of touch these past few days because he was in the mountains with her and Marcus, following a scent trail. Wyatt may have let you go, but he never gave up hope of punishing Thackery for taking you away.”

A bubble of emotion settles in my throat and makes it difficult to breathe. He may have let you go . I can’t argue the truth in Phin’s statement. It’s too late to fix what Thackery helped us break. Wyatt and I both changed dramatically, and I doubt for the better. All we can do—all of us, I realize, as I glance at the activity beyond the tent—is to start over.

“It feels like such a small thing to say thank you,” Phin adds. “You saved many lives that day, Evy, but you saved mine as well. Again.”

I put down the bottle of water and cover our clasped hands with my other, holding tight. His touch is cotton and steel—something so unique to him and comfortingly familiar. “I don’t have many friends, Phin, but I’ll always fight for the ones I have.”

“As will I.” His eyes burn with a fierce truth.

“Just stop getting kidnapped, okay?”

He smiles. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good.”

Movement outside the tent catches my attention. A young man, probably a trainee, is standing in a patch of sunlight. His gray sweats are stained red and black, and his face is pale beneath a mop of thick brown hair. His wide eyes look around without seeming to really see. He’s scared, if his trembling hands are any indication, and more than a little lost. I don’t know him, but I can guess his story—this was his last chance to make a life, to matter. And he’s watching it burn to the ground.

My heart aches for him, and for the dozen or so others like him who have nowhere to go. And more than that, my chest burns with anger.

For the first time since waking up in Chalice Frost’s body and realizing I had a second chance at this life thing, I feel like I have a choice. A choice about my next step and where I want to go from here.

“I want to speak with Astrid,” I say.

Phin blinks. “I’m sure I can find her for you.”

“Not right this minute. I want an official meeting with the head of your Assembly task force.”

“Are you applying for a job?”

“Maybe. Does she book appointments for that?”

“There’s a first time for everything. I’ll speak with her and let you know.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And I meant what I said, Evy, about you having a place to go, even if only for a few days. You’re more than welcome in the condo I share with Rufus.”