The Consort's Fate

Chapter 13

Kelly

There are moments in life when your body reacts before your conscious mind – 'fight or flight' they call it. Your body becomes a machine, going through the motions of self-preservation. Before you know it, the moment is long gone, and your mind scrambles to piece together the semblance of a memory, all the while asking, 'what the hell just happened?'

I tighten my hold of Tegan's bloodied body against my chest as Douglas and I get her to the kitchen table. I don't remember pulling her through the threshold of this abandoned shithole. I don't remember closing the door or pulling her into my arms. I don't remember tersely giving the command to Bogdan and Finn that they needed to stick together as they secured the perimeter.

All I remember is Tegan, one of the damned strongest females and Secondaries I've ever known, reaching up with bloodied hands and whispering a plea of help.

My mind is a chasm full of torn scraps of memory.

"Get the medical kit," I say to Douglas. "I picked up more supplies today. Everything should be stocked."

Finn's guard nods. He clears off the table before assembling the medical supplies.

"She'll heal," he says, and I don't miss the comforting tone he uses.

"I know she'll heal," I snap defensively. "But she's our only eyes on the inside. If Reyo found out she's aiding us – "

"She'd be dead," Douglas interrupts.

My eyes travel across Tegan's features. Long eyelashes. A pointed nose. Harsh features. I've never seen her this close before. It's always been at a distance, usually with one of us throwing a sharp barb to the other.

It's no secret Tegan isn't a fan of humans. Isn't a fan of me.

I can't count the number of times I argued with Bogdan about her loyalty. Each time he assured me that despite her distaste for humans that our common goal was the same. To save Finn.

Tegan lets out a pained moan in my arms. I grimace and selfishly squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, suppressing the flood of memories bubbling to the surface. Seeing her like this takes me back there – to those final days at the Fortress. All the death. The blood. The pain. The loss...

"Shh," I say, all the while forcing breath in through my mouth and out through my nose. "I've got you, Tegan."

Douglas moves around the table and assists in peeling her from my arms. The squelching noise that follows makes bile rise in my throat. There's so much blood – too much blood. An ember of fury burns in the deepest pit of my stomach.

"Who did this to her?" I ask.

Accusation burns my tongue, and I know it's unfair. Douglas doesn't bother with a response. His brow pinches in concentration as he gathers various items. Gauze. Alcohol. Antibacterial solution.

He grabs a pair of scissors and gently murmurs to Tegan that he's going to cut away the soiled clothes to find where the injuries are located and begin cleaning them. Every word is gentle but clinical, showcasing that he's every bit the guard the Secondaries trained him to be. That Mr. Primary trained him to be.

"I'll do it," I snap, holding my hand out for the scissors.

Douglas barely spares me a glance before moving back into place, slowly cutting up the hem of Tegan's ruined shirt.

"You can help me when your hands stop shaking."

Douglas cuts away the last scraps of Tegan's shirt, and something ugly unfurls inside me as I watch his eyes dance across every inch of her body. Something dark, protective, and foreign. My hands clench into fists at my side, and I glance away.