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“I can procure a reliable supply line of medical supplies from the city,” Reyes says, “ifyou’re willing to give us something in return.”
“Like what?”
“Livestock and fresh produce,” Reyes says. “And I can offer you something else.”
“I’m listening,” Patrick says.
“Unfiltered sunlight.”
Thatcatches his attention, but not for the better.
“And how do you propose we make that happen?” Patrick asks. “The only way I could think of is by taking down the Celestial Curtain.”
“Exactly,” Reyes says. “I’m willing to offer air protection from the Resistance. Deliveries by helicopter. Sunlight for your people.”
“How do we know you won’t just come in and take what we have?”
“Patrick,” I interrupt. “Don’t be stupid. They don’t have any interest in doing that—this offer is coming because he wants to help Enid.”
“And I presume he wants to help Enid because you’re whoring yourself out to him?”
I press my lips together in a thin line, inhaling sharply. Iknewthis wasn’t going to go well…I knew it was a bad idea. “My relationship with anyone in the pack has nothing to do with this,” I say. “Be reasonable; this is a good deal for all of us. The Heavenly Host doesn’t give a damn about us anymore.”
“Don’t talk that way, Tilda,” Patrick says.
“We have to be pragmatic,” I say. “People are going to die if we don’t do something.”
“I know how to take care of my people,” Patrick says.
“It isn’t a dick-measuring contest,” I snarl.
“Tilda—it’s okay,” Reyes says. He still hasn’t moved an inch. That red light isstillon his chest. “We can’t guarantee shipments unless the Curtain is down. We would prefer to bring you into our network so that we can move supplies quickly.”
“So you’re asking us to give up our alliance with the Heavenly Host to make an alliance with the Resistance?” David demands from inside.
“Father,” Patrick says, piggybacking on David. “You should know better thananyone—that’s sacrilege.”
Reyes grimaces, and I can sense his mounting frustration in addition to his fading hope. There’s something else there too…anger at David,ragefor shooting me in the stomach all those nights ago.
“The Heavenly Host gave up on us long ago,” I hiss. I’m getting angry now. I can’t help it. “We don’t have an alliance. We’realone.”
“But we ain’t turncoats, Tilda,” Patrick says. “My answer is no. We’re done.”
He turns to walk back inside, and I lunge to grab his wrist by instinct. Enid sees the motion and moves toward me, and I feel Reyes coming closer to pull me away. I’m torn between the two of them, unsure who I should go with when this is a choice I never wanted to make.
And there’s another element in the mix.
As Reyes moves, the dot on his chest shakes, the gunman trying to keep abreast of the activity. Like I’m seeing everything in slow motion—just like two weeks ago—I see the accident about to happen, and my head snaps toward Reyes.
The gunshot rings out.
He staggers backward, then falls to one knee.
“No!” I scream. I know it was an accident—a stupid accident by men whoshouldn’tbe carrying guns, who have no fucking idea what they’re doing. It hurts like it’s intentional though, searing through me as if I’ve been shot myself.
The grasses behind him erupt with activity, sleek forms sliding across the prairie. The other wolves—they must have followed us. When I was so paranoid in the forest, it must have beenthemon our heels. I see a creature with white fur and violet quills on its back, along with a blonde wolf with scarlet spikes. I haven’t seen them in their shifted forms before, so I can’t tell who’s who, but my heightened senses provide clues. I’m certain one of them is Arden by the smell of roses.
I lunge toward Reyes, but Enid is pulling me back by one arm, Patrick by the other. “Tilda, please, it isn’t safe!” Enid cries.
