The unfamiliar male voice is even more jarring than the incessant buzzing, which blessedly stops.
“It’s fine,”is the grunted response.“Make it hurt.”
All the oxygen escapes my lungs.
Cross.
It’s happening again. He’s in my head.
“It’s just us here, Captain,”the first voice says, chuckling.“You don’t have to put on the macho show. I know from experience that spine tats hurt like a godfucking bitch. Area’s bony, too many nerve endings—”
“I said make it fucking hurt.”
“If that’s what you—”
The voices drop out, flooding my mind with agonizing silence. Cross is getting another tattoo. At least that’s what I’m gathering from that exchange. The buzz was a tattooing gun.
Make it hurt.
I curl under the blanket again, wishing I could pretend I never heard that. Wishing I could go back to feeling that giddiness from my date with Gray.
Why is Cross getting inked tonight of all nights? Does he know it’s my—
Of course he knows.Wolf wished me a happy birthday every year since I was six.
Groaning, I slam my eyelids shut and banish all thoughts of Cross, but no matter how hard I try, I keep hearing that low, deadly voice in my head.
Make it hurt.
Over the next few days, I notice the Authority spending a lot of time in their war room, debating who knows what. I’m curious as hell, but every time I bug Gray about it, he keeps his answers vague. By the third day of briefings, my curiosity has transformed into a beast I simply cannot tame. I’m so full of questions, it feels like my mind might explode.
That night, as Gray lets me into his quarters, I ambush him.
“What’s going on? Iknowyou guys are planning something.”
For a moment, I don’t think he’s going to answer. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling my attention to the delicious flexing of biceps. I force myself to focus, pouting at his silence.
With a faint smile, he relents. “We just voted to authorize an emissary mission to Tierra Fe.”
I gasp. “Really? When?”
“Three days from now. We’re going to brief everyone in the morning and assemble the team. We made contact with their commander last night, and this morning they dispatched their parley terms.” He frowns. “I don’t love them.”
“Why?”
“We’re going to brief everyone in the morning,” he repeats.
“Or”—I beam at him—“you can just brief me now and I’ll pretend to be surprised in the morning.”
Chuckling, Gray wanders over to his sofa and flops down.
I sit next to him, drawing my knees up. “What were the terms?”
“They’ll only speak to someone on the Authority. So that’s Adrienne or Kallister—”
“What about you? Or Teriq and Fiona?”
“Not our forte. Ade’s done more fieldwork than Kal, so it’ll likely be her, but…” He rubs his forehead. “I don’t like this mission. She’sonly allowed to bring a pilot and one guard, and the Tierrans will sweep her for any tech, so that means no comms.”
