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“It’s because you’re a liar. You said I wasn’t wicked in the hall. But you think it deep down. You never trusted me.”
“No,” I say. “I didn’t. That’s my mistake. And my friends have paid for it with their lives. That…that guilt was my only company in the box he kept me in for the nine months.” By the look in her eyes I know she didn’t know what had been done to me. “But now I’ve been given a second chance at life, I don’t want to waste it. I want to make amends with you. I owe you a life. I owe you justice. And I want you to join us.”
“Join you?” she says with a laugh. “As a Son of Ares?”
“Yes.”
“You’re serious.” She laughs at me. Another defense mechanism. “I’m not really into suicide, darling.”
“The world you know is gone, Victra. Your sister has stolen it from you. Your mother and her friends have been wiped out. Your house is now your enemy. And you’re an outcast from your own people. That is the problem with this Society. It eats its own. It pits us against one another. You have nowhere to go….”
“Well, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”
“…I want to give you a family that will not stab you in the back. I want to give you a life with meaning. I know you’re a good person, even if you laugh at me for saying it. But I believe in you. Yet…all that doesn’t matter—what I believe, what I want. What matters is what you want.”
She searches my eyes. “What I want?”
“If you want to leave here, you can. If you want to stay in this bed, you can. Say what you want and it’s yours. I owe you that.”
She thinks for a moment. “I don’t care about your rebellion. I don’t care about your dead wife. Or about finding a family or finding meaning. I want to be able to sleep without them jacking me full of chemicals, Darrow. I want to be able to dream again. I want to forget my mother’s caved-in head and her vacant eyes and her twitching fingers. I want to forget Adrius laughing. And I want to repay Antonia and Adrius for their hospitality. I want to stand above them and that piece of shit, Roque, as they weep for the end as I gouge out their eyes and pour molten gold into the sockets so they scream and writhe and spread their urine upon the floor and beg forgiveness for ever thinking they could put Victra au Julii in a gorydamn cage.” She smiles ferally. “I want revenge.”`
“Revenge is a hollow end,” I say.
“And I’m a hollow girl now.”
I know she’s not. I know she’s more than that. But I also know better than anyone that wounds aren’t healed in a day. I’m barely stitched together myself, and I have my entire family here. “If that is what you want, that is what I owe you. In three days the Carver who made me into a Gold will be here. He will make us what we were. He’ll mend your spine. Give you your legs back, if you want them.”
She squints at me. “And you trust me, after what trust has cost you?”
I take the magnetic key given to me by the Sons outside and press it to the inside of her cuffs. One by one they unlatch from the bed, freeing her legs, her arms.
“You’re dumber than you look,” she says.
“You might not believe in our rebellion. But I saw Tactus change before his future was robbed from him. I’ve seen Ragnar forget his bonds and reach for what he wants in this world. I’ve seen Sevro become a man. I’ve seen myself change. I truly do believe we choose who we want to be in this life. It isn’t preordained. You taught me loyalty, more than Mustang, more than Roque. And because of that, I believe in you, Victra. As much as I’ve ever believed in anyone.” I hold out my hand. “Be my family and I will never forsake you. I will never lie to you. I will be your brother as long as you live.”
Startled by the emotion in my voice, the cold woman stares up at me. Those defenses she erected forgotten now. In another life we might have been a pair. Might have had tha
t fire I feel for Mustang, for Eo. But not in this life.
Victra does not soften. Does not crumble to tears. There’s still rage inside her. Still raw hate and so much betrayal and frustration and loss coiled around her icy heart. But in this moment, she is free of it all. In this moment, she reaches solemnly up to grasp my hand. And I feel the hope flicker in me.
“Welcome to the Sons of Ares.”
“It’s gorydamn infuriating being kept in the dark,” Victra mutters as she helps me rack the weights on the bench press. The sound echoes through the stone gymnasium. It’s bare bones in here. Metal weights. Rubber tires. Ropes. And months of my sweat.
“Don’t they know who you are?” I say, sitting up.
“Oh, shut up. Didn’t you found the Howlers? Don’t you have any say over how they treat us?” She nudges me off the bench to take my spot, laying her spine on the padded surface and pushing her arms up to grip the barbell. I take a few weights off. But she glares at me and I put them back on as she fixes her grip.
“Technically, no,” I say.
“Oh. But seriously: what’s a girl got to do to get a wolfcloak?” Her powerful arms thrust the bar up off from its rack, moving it up and down as she talks. Nearly three hundred kilos. “I shot a Legate in the head two missions ago. A Legate! I’ve seen your Howlers. Aside from…Ragnar, they’re tiny. They need…more heavies if they want to…take on Adrius’s Boneriders or the Sovereign’s…Praetorians.” She grits her teeth as she finishes her last repetition, racking the bar without my help, and standing to point to herself in the mirror. Hers is a powerful, laconic form. Shoulders broad and swaying with a haughty walk. “I’m a perfect physical specimen, on and off my feet. Not using me is an indictment on Sevro’s intelligence.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s probably your lack of self-confidence he’s worried about.”
She throws a towel at me. “You’re as annoying as he is. Swear to Jove if he says one more thing about my ‘nascent poverty’ I’m going to cut his head off with a gorydamn spoon.” I watch her for a moment, trying not to laugh. “What, you have something to say as well?”
“Not a thing, my goodlady,” I say, holding up my hands. Her eyes linger on them instinctively. “Squats next?”
