49. Drova

49

DROVA

D rova studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She didn't look all that different because she usually wore black fatigues almost identical to the uniform she'd been given.

The only significant difference was the insignia of the Avengers. It was an eagle with two swords crossing over it, and it was so small that it was not visible unless someone specifically looked for it. Onegus didn't want them to have any identifying features, which was fine for the immortals, but the Kra-ell couldn't help their alien looks. She and Pavel, the only purebloods on the team, stuck out with their height, their big eyes, and slim frames.

She adjusted the utility belt, making sure everything was secured properly. There was no gun in her holster. She either hadn't earned the right to one yet or just wasn't trusted with one, which was kind of stupid. What was she going to do with a gun? Put it to a Guardian's head and order him to drive her somewhere?

As if there was anywhere she could go.

"You're wearing it wrong."

Drova jumped at her mother's voice. She hadn't heard Jade enter her room, which was embarrassing given her training. She'd been too absorbed in her own thoughts, and because she was safe in her house, her training hadn't engaged, but that was a mistake. Her mother had told her a thousand times that safety anywhere was an illusion, and she needed to always be vigilant.

"The knife sheath goes on the left side for right-handed fighters," Jade said, moving to adjust the belt.

"I know how to position equipment," Drova said, perhaps more defensively than she'd intended.

Jade grimaced but adjusted the belt, nonetheless. "Always accept advice and corrections with an open mind, especially when they come from someone with vastly superior training and experience. Arrogance and stubbornness can and will kill you."

"I know that." Drova took a deep breath. "Thank you for the correction, Mother."

Jade nodded. "Today, your job is to listen, watch, and learn. If you respond to any of the Guardians the way you've just responded to me, you will be dismissed and not allowed back."

"I understand."

But she didn't, not really. She was one of the best fighters among the Kra-ell—Jade had made sure of that, training her relentlessly since she could walk. It seemed wasteful to keep her on the sidelines just because she was young and the Guardians considered her inexperienced.

Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Jade's expression hardened. "You lack field experience, Drova. This is not like training in the compound or here, where no one is trying to kill you. The people the Avengers are going after are ruthless monsters who prey on children. It doesn't get any worse than that. Don't expect them to follow the rules or hesitate to cause you harm. The only reason I feel okay with you going out there is your ability to control their minds. The problem is that bullets are faster than spoken commands, and you might not have time to stop them. Rely on your speed and strength instead."

Drova smiled. "You worry too much. I will not be taking part in the attack. I'll be watching from the surveillance van. The worst that can happen to me is the Guardian in charge confusing me with too much technical information and causing me a headache."

That got a chuckle out of Jade. "Right. But my advice still stands. If something goes wrong, you might need to assist, and if that happens, I want you to remember what I've told you. No one will expect your speed and strength, and that will give you an advantage."

"Got it."

Before Jade could continue her lecture, Phinas appeared in the doorway. "You look good in tactical gear." He smiled. "Fierce."

"Thank you." Drova returned his smile. He always knew how to defuse tension between her and her mother and never spoke down to her like Jade often did.

"May I offer some advice?" When she nodded, he continued, "Follow orders and trust your team leader's judgment."

"I will." She meant it, too. "I'm not stupid." Despite her pride and rebellious tendencies, she understood the importance of the chain of command.

"Never said you were, but the young are known to be impulsive, and you are still very young."

As a knock sounded at the front door, Drova's heart skipped. It was probably Pavel who had promised to collect her on his way to the training center.

"That'll be your escort," Jade said.

Her stupid heart was still thundering in her chest, and Drova assumed a blasé expression. "Yes, it will. "

She walked to the front door, conscious of her mother and Phinas watching. When she opened it, Pavel stood there in his own tactical gear, looking as handsome and as confident as ever.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes." She turned back to her mother and Phinas. "Wish us luck."

Jade's expression softened again, pride breaking through her usual stern mask. "Good luck." She turned to Pavel. "Get the bad guys and save the children. And be careful."

"We will," Pavel said.

Drova nodded her agreement and then stepped out into the cool midday air beside Pavel without looking back. There was no need for drama. After all, she wasn't going to fight tonight, so all that pep talk had been superfluous.

"Nervous?" Pavel asked.

"No. Just excited to see some real action. Regrettably, I don't have an active role. Not this time, anyway. I hope Peter is not going to keep me on the sidelines forever."

He chuckled. "It's okay to admit that you are nervous. Everyone's nervous their first time out, even if all they do is watch from the sidelines. It's the difference between training at home and finding yourself behind enemy lines."

"I'm not everyone."

"No," he surprised her by agreeing. "You're definitely not. "

Their eyes met briefly, and Drova felt that familiar flutter in her stomach that she always got around him, but she commanded her traitorous body to stand down.

This wasn't the time for such girly concerns. She couldn't let her attraction to Pavel distract her.

Still, as they walked in companionable silence she couldn't help but hope that in time, after she proved herself, maybe he would start seeing her not as Igor's daughter, not as a compeller or a troublemaker, but as a female of worth he would one day be proud to belong to.