Halo by Frankie Rose

Author:Frankie Rose [Rose, Frankie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-01-10T08:00:00+00:00

HAZE

It takes a long time to find the way back to my tent. All I can think of is how badly I want to slip into bed and pretend like the whole nightmare conversation with Ryka didn’t just happen. But it did. There won’t be any forgetting what was said tonight, not even if my life depended on it. Why did he have to go and do that? We were doing just fine; things were just starting to calm down between us. And now? Now, things are even more explosive. I just want to put it all out of my mind and sink into unconsciousness, a feat I can only accomplish once I eventually locate my new home. Storming through the small opening, I see my goal ahead, but then a figure steps out of the shadows, blocking the entry way.

“Olivia, I just want to go to sleep,” I say. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just don’t think I’m going to be very good company right now.”

“Fighter,” a low voice says, and in the thick silence the word sounds strangely muffled. My pace slows instantly, while I peer into the night, trying to work out who is waiting for me. “You and I have business,” the voice says.

The person is definitely male—tall and really broad. A black mask disguises his face, one I recognise, and it takes me a beat to remember where from. The priestesses—they wear masks like these, except theirs are white with black counters running around the rim. This one is coal-black, complete with white counter, an exact inverse.

“What—what kind of business could you have with me?”

The stranger’s head tips to one side and the effect is altogether eerie and disturbing. “Surely there is only one kind?” he responds. A flash of silver in the moonlight betrays the blade he’s holding in his hand, his arms hanging loosely to his sides. I suck in a breath and ready myself. It’s instinctual; I have my own knives in my hands in a heartbeat.

“Listen, I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t want to fi—”

It doesn’t matter what I want. In a flash, the stranger with the black mask leaps forward, flinging a hand out towards me, and a plume of dusty white powder explodes in the air, hitting me square in the face. I choke on the burning sensation that sears down my throat, trying to spin and meet my attacker. He’s quick. Quicker than anyone I’ve ever fought, or seen fight before. The blades in his hands spin so fast that it’s like the night air is filled with molten silver. I sink into a defensive stance, but everything is suddenly off kilter, strange and unfamiliar. Blurry eyes, shaking hands, pounding heart, panic racing through my veins like wildfire. The fight might well be over before my attacker even makes his first move, because I know in the pit of my stomach that I’ve just been drugged and I’m about to get my ass kicked. I’ve never felt so disjointed and confused, and the effects are devastating.

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