Page 10 of Storm Caller

Rook lifts his shirt, and she pokes and prods at him with a tongue wedged between her teeth. “Looks like you’re gonna live.”

“Thanks, Vess,” he says, his tone laced with sincerity.

“Don’t thank me,” she says as she wraps him up in a set of fresh bandages. “Cal said we had to keep you alive. Plus, I’m not interested in getting on the high commander’s bad side.”

Rook’s mouth presses together.

The high commander. As in High Commander Athira.

One of his parents? Or someone he’s related to at least.

While Vess finishes her work, a wave of dizziness overcomes me, and I sink onto the bed. The spot on my head is tender to the touch, and I feel a cut scabbing over that means I was definitely bleeding at some point.

“Can you check her, too?” Rook asks.

Vess gives me a dubious glance.

“No,” she says firmly. “I don’t work on Crusts.”

“Vess,” he says, admonishment in his tone. “Don’t be like that. Poet hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Vess starts packing up, refusing to make eye contact. “I can leave you some supplies.”

Rook’s jaw clenches, and I can tell he wants to argue, but his shoulders drop. “Fine.”

Vess nods and lays out a few items on the bed before she opens her case of vials and injects Rook with another dose of painkillers.

This also catches me off guard. They have medicine and supplies. Ways of caring for themselves that don’t seem so different from ours.

As if reading my mind, Vess huffs out a derisive snort.

“They’re all the same,” she says to Rook, latching her case shut.

And then she’s gone, leaving Rook and me alone for the first time since our capture. He scoops up the items Vess left behind and drops to a knee before me.

At first, he doesn’t make eye contact. Maybe because he can’t stand to look at me. Does he feel any guilt for how he betrayed me? He was there the night Raine was taken. When I told him what I’d seen in that video, he said he was planning to tell me everything. But what did he mean? I can’t seem to form the question around the thickness of my tongue. Probably because I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer.

My stomach rumbles, and I try to remember the last time I ate. Dinner in the cafeteria with Domino and Journey when they teased me about kissing Rook.

My heart squeezes as I think about our cozy little room. Kisses in the shadows. Touching each other by the light of the fire. Whispers of our dreams and hopes.

Finally, he looks up, and our eyes meet. My heart flutters inside my rib cage, and I will it to settle. I’m angry with him. I want answers. I deserve that.

“Can I take a look?” he asks, gesturing to the bump on my head. I want to refuse, but there wouldn’t be any point.

I nod, and he leans in, gently probing the spot. I try not to flinch, but his eyes darken when he picks up on my discomfort.

“I’ll kill her for this,” he says calmly.

“Why did she do it? I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

“So you wouldn’t see the way we came.”

“How far from New Manhattan are we?”

“A few days’ walk.”

“And I was out the entire time?”