Blood War (Book 1, the Halfblood Chronicles)

36.2 | Surviving Is the Easy Part

Nika studied the circles beneath his eyes, the shadow of stubble across his jaw. "You mean, busy with distractions."

Ren opened his mouth, as if to protest, but when his dark eyes landed on Nika's face, he shut it again, frowning. She reached across the small space between them, brushing her knuckles down his arm. Even at that simple touch, her blood sparked with warmth, and a peacefulness settled into her bones.

"Is it Emil?" she whispered.

Though he hadn't explicitly confessed it, Ren revered the man. And despite her frustration about the coveted answers that had died with the High Keeper, Nika couldn't help wondering how Ren was coping with it. If he was coping at all . . . 

He stared at her hand. "Emil. Elliot. Dozens of keepers." He turned his arm over, snatching her fingers. "You."

"I'm not dead yet."

"You were close." He huffed a laugh, but it carried more cynicism than amusement. "Markos is going to fire me."

"Not after I tell him how you kept me alive, even when I wouldn't cooperate with you."

He squeezed her fingers. "Nika . . . if you want to be a keeper—a good one—you need to learn how to follow orders."

She studied the geometric pattern of the blanket draping her legs. "I know."

"But a little defiance can be healthy, especially if you receive orders that you know are wrong." He leaned closer, lifting her chin so she'd meet his gaze. "You have a big heart, but you also have a sharp mind. Use them both."

She swallowed. "I'll try."

Ren cleared his throat and sank back into the chair. "Well, if I truly look like a zombie, maybe I should get some sleep."

"Sexy zombie," Nika corrected with a wink.

He turned his head toward the ceiling, but she didn't fail to notice the color in his cheeks. "That's not a thing," he said.

"I don't know. Miles was decent—for a corpse."

Ren's laugh rumbled like an engine, seeping into the walls, the very foundations of the building. It brought such delight to hear it that Nika joined him, only for a painful spasm to bombard her torso.

When the ache subsided, she said, "What happened to him? Miles."

"With all the bullet holes we put in him . . . " Ren shook his head. "His family plans to cremate him."

"It's probably for the best," Nika said. "And Asteroth?"

"Gone. Keepers collected the broken pieces of the amulet, and I've ordered them to be ground down to sand."

"Good. Any other news?"

"Yesterday afternoon, agents of the Fellowship arrived, demanding answers about what happened at the cemetery."

The Fellowship. In decades past, the Ministry and Vigil had brokered a treaty with that human organization. They had promised to acknowledge the Serafi and Nefili community, so long as supernatural conflicts were kept far from human civilization. The graveyard was a resting place for both species, however, which meant the Fellowship would be prying into the matter.

"How much did you tell them?" Nika asked.

"Nothing yet. They've been invited to an assembly here at Konstantin." A long, wary look. "And so has the Ministry."

Nika scooted upright, gaping. "But Ministers only have meetings at the Hall of Valentine."

"They want to interview everyone involved."