Page 8 of A Sweet Destruction

It felt like minutes had passed inside my own mind, but it was likely no longer than a second before Peter said, “Let’s not think that far ahead right now. I want you to take care of yourself before I send you two off.”

His use of you two was not lost on me. Ford and I had hardly spent a day apart in eight years, and we surely were not going to start now. The back of my mind tickled again, like a thought was trying to jump to the forefront. I shoved it away forcefully.

Old, hateful bitch.

“No,” I said, shocked at the fire in my own tone. “No special treatment. We have to act now, and fast. What do you need me to do?”

Peter sighed, pinching the skin between his brows. “I’m leary to send you into Pax right now, but I think that is what’s necessary.”

“See if people are moving out?” I asked, supplying the information he was likely going to share anyway. It wasn’t a far leap to make. The surrounding Muli camps, the ones that housed their own soldiers, while keeping Pax neutral, had been surreptitiously abandoned in the past day.

Mere hours before our camp was blown to smithereens.

And as we’d intended, through years of careful planning for a similar situation, our presence in Pax would not ring alarm bells. We’d just be doing business, checking in to make sure our trade lines weren’t going to disappear with the retreat of Muli troops.

Peter paused, the barest, imperceptible pause, before he nodded. “Yes, that is what I’d like you to do.” His words were stunted, a little awkward, as if he had to force himself to say them.

Ella, the ever perceptive woman she was, stepped off to the side to check on the others standing around the Bridge. Also, very likely, to make sure they couldn’t hear our conversation.

When we were alone, I felt that nervousness creep up again, threatening to steal my breath away. It didn’t help that Peter sighed heavily, visibly shedding the formal personality he was forced to embody.

“I don’t want this for you, Esme,” he said softly.

Tears sprang to my eyes too fast to stop them. I shook my head, trying and failing to dispel them. The first loss of control of many to come.

The single tear that slipped down my cheek was almost menacing, taunting me with a threat of what could be unleashed.

“I will let you handle this as you see fit,” Peter continued, looking down at the ground between us, not quite able to meet my eyes. “But I will not entertain a reality where you are as close to death as you once came.”

I dropped my gaze to the floor alongside him, equally uncomfortable with this conversation. “Okay,” I said, my voice hoarse and broken. With everything happening, I couldn’t truly promise that. I didn’t know the next time I would be put in danger. Or Ford would.

Peter smoothed his hand down my hair, a comforting, paternal gesture. After all these years, he might as well be my father. I know I played a complimentary role for him, filling a void carved out by a life of service. “Take care of yourself. Please.”

I looked up at him with a smile, letting a laugh through.

“Was that hard for you?” Peter never said please.

Peter shook his head while a wry grin softened his face. “I’m glad to see your humor is still alive.”

“Always is,” I said, scrambling for those pieces of sanity that felt so far away at the moment.

Peter seemed unconvinced by my laugh, but he stepped away with a few quick nods. A soothing motion, something the body did when it was trying to convince itself of something. I didn’t press it—wouldn’t press it.

If you saw someone in the throes of insanity, it would take you a second to believe that they were capable of normalcy again. All things considered, only two or three days had passed between my last bout of madness and this moment. Those five years in between meant nothing when they were clouded by that medication.

“I’m glad you’re helping,” Peter said, wincing as his eyes surveyed the destruction before him. “But try to get some sleep. Everyone is eager to help, and most people don’t have to be sharp tomorrow.”

I nodded, rather than tell him I had better chances at getting sleep if I exhausted myself with physical activity rather than head back now. Especially considering I was sure a shared tent was in my future.

I could see if there were a couple single person tents, but…well, that was the shitty thing about Muli. In order to get over here, you needed a Match. Intentional or not, every system we’d set up on this side of the Bridge favored pairs.

Peter and Ella headed back to the main house, something I guessed at more so than saw. It was still standing, which was honestly shocking. Rather than dwell, again, on how awful it was that we were here, I focused my energy on the rocks in front of me.

Sweat was just starting to build again, fresh, warm beads of exertion that chased away the cool drips of water that had chilled my skin while I paused to talk to Peter, when I heard someone say, “Need help?”

It was a trick of my own mind, pretending it took a second to place that voice. My body locked up before I even registered it, my next swing down onto a thick boulder sloppy and making my bones rattle more than normal.

“If only so that you can watch the show,” Alec called out, his voice thick with laughter. I looked up, curious what I was missing, until I realized that everyone was looking at me.