The Bastard's Guide to Overthrowing a Nation

Chapter 31

MY room looks like a field day for a martial officer. Loose bullets, daggers, guns, and alcohol cover the floor, desk, dresser, and bed, haphazardly covered in clothing. Anyone who walked in would think I was an assassin.

I pull the door open before Anden can even knock. He closes the door tightly behind him, dropping a bag onto the new desk. I pull the case from under the bed, placing it on top of the bed. Taking the key from around my neck, I unlock the case. As I lift the lid Anden lets out a slow whistle. I grab empty packs from the floor, setting them next to the cases. With great caution, I lift the bombs from the case, setting them inside of the packs.

I place the last of the bombs into the bag, counting each one. 75, a third for each building. I zip the bag closed, placing it on the bed. Digging through mounds of clothing I pull out knives and guns, setting them on the desk.

I sift through the pile of weapons I have amassed over the last few months. I strap the stiletto dagger to my thigh, slipping a few extra knives into my boots. My hair hangs loosely over my shoulders. I internally sigh in frustration as it falls over my face as I bend over to retie my boots. I push it back over my shoulders, twisting it to keep it back for longer. I pass the detonator to Anden, slipping the Verduna signet ring off my pinkie finger and onto the table. He slips the detonator into an inner pocket alongside the camera cutter.

I give a tight smile, "You ready?"

His face is solemn, "This may be our last run."

"Deny everything."

"Except for this."

Something changes in his eyes, like a beast set free. His hands cup my face, his lips slanting against my own, my hair wound around his fingers. No deception, no alcohol, no pain. Maybe it's just desperation, a goodbye if all goes to shit; but something is deeper, my walls are broken down, the weapons we carried around our hearts dropped. My body arches against his; the complete and utter need and trust for his person filling every inch of my body. Rapture. His hair is like silk between my fingers as I thread them through the hair at the base of his head, pulling our bodies closer together.

Alice used to say that when you held someone you loved the fire in your veins would spark and consume you, but I feel no fire. A darkness burns through me. Serene and sparking. Chaos and all-consuming. This darkness sparked from who we are and what we were born of.

Bastard and a Spare.

Graverobber and Soldier.

Slummer and Lord.

Rebels smoothing the rough edges and sharpening the swords.

Drowning in the love and acceptance from another who knows the pain you have felt.

We are not born from the smiles and laughter of angels, but their blood, sweat, and tears. Ready to set fire to the world.

If we did not have to fight tonight, I think we would both let go. Drown ourselves in the darkness, and build our kingdom come, upon the ashes of this city built on blood that screams for its people's freedom.

But we must fight. So, I break free, soothing the storm that courses in my veins. I take my hands from his body, running my fingers through my hair. "It's nearly one, we should go."

"Right."

"We best make it back, because I sure as hell want to do that again."

"And here I was thinking that you still hated me."

"Things change."

"Only if we don't die, love, only if we don't die."

We share a sad smile. We turn away from each other, strapping bags to ourselves. I could cut the air in the room with a knife as we meet by the window. I take the screen from the window, slide it under the bed, then pushing the window as far open as it will go. We stare into the ink blackness of the night, streetlights and signs fill the nearly dead streets like stars.

"Don't cry if we get ourselves killed."

I cross my arms over my chest, "Why would I cry and how can I cry if I'm dead?"

"Well, you threatened me quite thoroughly the last time I nearly died. Something about giving me a matching scar and begging me to wake up."

"How do you know that? You were unconscious at the time."

He smiles, "Not the entire time."

"I will give you that matching scar right now."

"I thought we were past your distaste for me."

"What can I say my heart is darker and more scarred than my exterior."

"I can live with that."

I raise a brow, "Can you?"

A grin pul

"Of course you'd say that."

"Come on... Let's go blow this place to hell."

A/N: okay so i lied, this is also my favorite chapter in part one.