42: Speak Truth

SASHA POV

Gahhhhhhhhh why does everything hurt so much?!

Eyes blink open. Darkness, with flickers and flashes of light from random overhead places. Quiet jazz music, Rika’s favorite. Soft snoring breaths of multiple people, nearby. Floor is rumbling—am I moving?

What the fuck happened?

Anselm is dead.

Relief, instant and overwhelming—

THUNK!

PAIN as whole body jerks from the ground jolting. A groan escapes from my throat.

“Are you all right?” a familiar voice whispers.

Turn head. Golden eyes in the darkness, framed by strong features and disheveled dark hair. Want to answer. Mouth and throat not working. Pain intensifies.

“Where am I?” I manage finally. American accent is beyond my reach. Guess he hears me now as myself, slightly Russian flavored.

“In Zoe’s car. Your friends and mine are all here. We’re on our way to Montana, I guess. To see someone you’ve supposedly worked with before.” He seems mad about it. Or maybe other things.

He has plenty to choose from. Guilt combines with physical pain. Squirming makes it worse. Why am I still alive?

“Try not to move too much,” Drake tells me. “How do you feel?”

“Pain.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” Rustling noises. A water bottle and a closed fist in front of my face. “I can give you something for that. Can you sit up a little?”

More squirming, struggling to comply. Seems to take forever, but pill lands in my mouth and then water helps me swallow.

“Thanks,” I mumble, slumping back to the floor. Pain radiates as my head hits the ground.

“Be careful. Rika, Callum, and Zoe worked really hard to make sure you’d live. Don’t screw it up.”

“Callum?” That seems incorrect. “Why?”

“He’s a good friend. Wanted to make sure you’d have a chance to answer my questions.”

“Questions?”

“We can start with your real name. They’ve told me, but I want to hear it from you.”

I wince. I should have known this would happen, if I survived that fight with Anselm.

I didn’t actually think I would. It was enough, more than enough, to know he was dead. What do I do with my life now?

Now is not time for wallowing.

“Sasha Sukoshku,” I answer Drake.

“And you’re not really a grad student at OSU.”

“No. WASP special op. Assassin.”

More anger in his eyes, radiating from him. “For how long?”

“How long in WASP?”

“Yeah, we can start there.”

“Since age ten.”

“What?!” He shakes his head, making me dizzy. I close my eyes, hoping it will help. “I don’t believe that. Haven’t you lied to me enough?”

“Didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to lie to me, or didn’t want to join WASP?”

“Yes.”

Rumbling growl of frustration in his chest. I open my eyes again. Want to tell him to just kill me—I deserve it, from him—but words won’t come out.

“Then why did you?!” he demands, quiet but furious.

“Had to lie. For job.”

“But why do the job if you didn’t want to?”

“No choice. Until Anselm dead.”

“Well, you’ve managed that.” His tone is bitter, his eyes accusing. “And now you get his job.”

Oh. Right. Part of the dueling rules, wasn’t it? Tempest and Ariadne love rules. If they survived, they’ll make sure that happens. Even though I don’t want it.

“Until abdicate. Will do soon. Unless they execute me.”

“Unless who executes you?!” Sudden panic in him. He’s at war with himself.

“WASP. For disobeying commander. And killing him.”

“Why did you do that?” Suddenly softer, more searching. “Why did you put yourself on the line for me?”

“You wrongly accused.”

“That’s it?” He hopes there’s more.

“And…thought maybe…I was ready. To kill him.”

“You’ve been planning to do that.” It’s somewhere between question and statement. He doesn’t want to believe.

“Since age ten.”

“Since you joined WASP.” A pause. He’s thinking, deciding. “Awfully young for that, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you join them?”

Tears suddenly fill my eyes. The memories are more painful than my battered, aching body. But he’s right. I’ve lied to him enough.

“Anselm killed my parents. And my brothers. With others from WASP. I fought them. Killed a couple. They weren’t expecting…. Decided I could be useful. Brought me to HQ. Wouldn’t let me die.”

“You killed two WASP operatives? At age ten? You were already trained as a fighter then?”

“Father was WASP special op. Taught brothers and me some. But mostly, took lackeys by surprise. Was furious. Desperate. Reckless.”

“How many have you killed, since then?”

“Don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you. Assassins keep body counts.”

“I lost count. Rika can get records from WASP.”

He’s not satisfied with that answer.

“Hundreds,” I offer. I’m sure of that much.

He shakes his head again, more slowly. Disbelief. Disgust. I’m not what he wanted in a mate. “All guilty?”

“Under WASP law.”

Weighty pause. “Have you exonerated others?”

“A few. Not common.”

“Did you ever try…other ways, to deal with the guilty?”

“Yes. Sometimes worked. Sometimes not.” Those fae children, right before this job. I wish it could’ve been different. Not the first time. Part of the job, being haunted after.

“You said your father was also WASP special ops?”

“Yes.”

“Why…. Why did Anselm kill him?”

“Refused to execute guilty. Instead relocated them, away from humans, to fix problem.”

“And the rest of your family?”

“Example for others who would disobey. Or more punishment for father.” Pause, shaky breath, hurting ribs. “Anselm killed him last.”

“He killed your whole family because of a decision your father made?” I nod once, turn away despite the pain. I hate the pity in his eyes. “But he let you live.”

“Respected power. I evaded them, destroyed their stuff, killed two of his men. Had potential…to be best they’d ever had, he said.”

Heavy sigh from Drake. Some of his rage has faded.

“I was going to ask you, if you thought what you did to him—Anselm was that lion, right?”

“Yes.”

“—If you thought all that was necessary. But, I…. I get it now. I won’t ask that. I understand.”

He only knows part of it. But I won’t volunteer to tell the rest.

“So….” he continues, “everything you told me before, about your family and the Russian mafia—”

“Names real. And origin countries. Everything else not. All dead, years ago.”

“I’m sor—”

“No. Do not. You owe me nothing.”

My eyes meet his again. So much to say, but no words come, for either of us.

“There’s still….” he starts eventually, but trails off. Words difficult. “When we kissed, before Anselm interrupted, I—”

“I know.”

“But what about you? What did you feel?”

“Not same, for my kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cats don’t mate for life.”

I can see heartbreak in his face. Of everything I’ve told him, this hurts most.

“Drake. I like you. Your commitment to justice…matches mine,” I tell him. I hope he knows I speak truth. “I meant it, when said…you’re good guy. And I…don’t want hurt you. But maybe…is best if you reject me.”

“What do you…?”

“Probably I will be court-martialed. Not fair trial. They will want me dead.”

“But you’re going to fight it. You were justified.” I try to shrug but it hurts too much. It doesn’t matter now. Anselm’s dead. My work is done. “Sasha. Justice will not be served if they kill you. I’ve wanted, for as long as I’ve known about WASP, to get rid of it or make it better. And you’re the head of WASP Special Ops now. You’re in a position to make it better. We can do this together—”

“WASP rotten. Take more than one…to do what you say.”

“Maybe with that attitude! But think of the opportunity—”

“Better if you reject me…and kill me yourself. Make quick. Merciful.”

“I’m not going to do that. I can’t do that.”

“You’ve seen…who I am. What I do. And after…what I had to do to you…. You have every right, every reason, to walk away.”

“You basically committed treason on my behalf. I’m not going to just leave you. Regardless of…whatever else there is between us.”

“Will be easier…if you do.”

“I don’t care about easier. I care about what’s right.”

Want to argue more, but painkiller kicking in. Hard to keep eyes open.

“We can discuss it more later. For now….” he says, sad half smile on his lips. “You’ve been through a hell of a fight. Sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”