23. Rissa

23

RISSA

Consciousness crashed over me like a tidal wave, rolling me around in sheer exhaustion that wracked every muscle and joint. I felt like I'd just run a marathon, swam a thousand laps, and caught the flu all at once. The pounding in my head reverberated through my entire being.

Damn, the hangover from flexing my full power always hit like a cargo train. This was the worst it had ever been, but I'd never spent centuries separate from most of my powers either.

I blinked blearily at the blank white ceiling, debating whether to just let myself drift back into oblivion. The mattress felt like it was swallowing me whole, and sleep's seductive call nearly won out.

Nearly. With a small groan, I forced myself to stir, shifting under the covers to let the others know I was awake. Luce's large, calloused hand gripped mine, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my skin. I snuck a glance at him, drinking in his brooding presence like a tonic.

"Hey," I managed to croak out, my words scraping against my dry throat. "How long was I out?"

"A few days," Bran replied from somewhere to my left. I tore my gaze away from Luce to see Bran, Hugh and Tanni all hovering nearby, their faces etched with varying degrees of concern and relief.

Wow, an audience watching me sleep. That wasn't unnerving at all.

"You really had us worried there, Rissa," Tanni said, her brow furrowed.

I snorted. "Takes more than a little power surge to take me out. You should know that by now."

Hugh crossed his arms. "Still, that was one hell of a feat. Crazy, but I gotta admit, damn impressive."

I shrugged as much as my aching shoulders would allow. "Just doing what needed to be done. Comes with the territory of being an undercover goddess."

Tanni stepped closer, fidgeting with her sleeves. "We're just glad you're okay. It was touch and go for a bit there."

I waved away her concern, even as a small, traitorous part of me basked in the rare show of genuine care. "I'm fine, really. Nothing a little more rest won't fix."

Luce squeezed my hand, drawing my focus back to him like a magnet. "You really scared me. Don't make a habit of it, okay?"

I swallowed hard, my standard snarky retort dying on my tongue as I met his intense stare. "I'll do my best. No promises though. Trouble seems to find me whether I call him or not."

He cracked a small, wry smile at that. "Don't I know it."

I let my gaze wander, taking in the room properly for the first time. Definitely land-based, no gentle rocking or ocean sounds. The Repupair offices maybe? Hard to say for sure, but it hardly mattered.

What mattered was that we were all here, all in one piece. Miracles did happen after all.

Roma walked in, her smile brightening as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Well, well, look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. About time, sleeping beauty."

I snorted. "Hilarious. You should take that act on the road. Audiences everywhere would be in stitches."

"Nah, I'll leave the showbiz to you. Seems more your speed, what with the whole dramatic heroics and all."

I grumbled under my breath, pointedly ignoring her jab. The last thing I needed was everyone making a big fuss over what I'd done. The sooner I faded back into being Rey's second in command, the better.

Bran cleared his throat, drawing attention away from our banter. "In all seriousness, what you did out there... it was incredible. We owe you a debt of gratitude."

I shifted uncomfortably, unused to such sincere praise from the usually stoic Bran. "Just doing what had to be done. No need to make a big deal out of it."

"It is a big deal, though," Tanni chimed in, her face earnest. "You saved countless lives, Rissa. That's not something to brush off lightly."

I sighed. Appreciation was a foreign sensation, one I wasn't entirely sure how to handle. "Look, can we maybe save the gushing for later? I'm still feeling a bit like roadkill over here."

Hugh read his phone, where he'd been texting. "Rey says, ‘Same old Halo. Deflecting compliments with sarcasm since the dawn of time.'"

"Hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it." I shrugged, wincing slightly at the movement. "Besides, you all know me. Heartfelt emotions make me break out in hives."

Luce squeezed my hand again. "Fine, no more compliments, kitten."

I met his gaze, seeing the depth of his sincerity shining through. It was enough to make my throat tighten and my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with my physical exhaustion.

I relaxed into the moment of silence.

Roma laughed. "We'll leave the motivational speaking gig to someone else, then. Wouldn't want to ruin your badass reputation, after all."

My lips twitched into my customary smirk, grateful for the return to our usual banter. It was familiar territory, a comfort zone I could navigate with ease.

But as I looked over the faces of those gathered around me, each one etched with varying degrees of relief and affection, I couldn't help but feel a warmth blossoming in my chest.

I needed a distraction, something to break the tension before I drowned in this sea of sentimentality. Luckily, Roma seemed to sense my discomfort. With a soft chuckle, she slipped an arm behind my shoulders, easing me into a slightly more upright position.

"Here, let's get you settled." She fussed with the pillows, arranging them just so until I was propped up enough to survey the room properly. "Better?"

I grunted in response, but the change in perspective was a welcome one. I glanced over the unfamiliar surroundings, I caught sight of a figure I hadn't noticed before. One of the older alchemists, a woman whose name escaped me, sat quietly in a chair near the door.

Her presence set off a flicker of unease in my gut. Alchemists and monsters weren't exactly known for their cordial relations, despite their new minted truce. So what was she doing here, in this room full of people who had every reason to despise her kind?

I narrowed my eyes, studying her lined face for any hint of a threat. But she simply returned my stare with a calm, even gaze, her hands folded neatly in her lap. No hostility, no fear. Just a quiet, almost expectant air that left me more unsettled than any overt aggression.

What game was she playing? And more importantly, how long had she been sitting there, watching me sleep? The thought made my skin crawl, a fresh wave of adrenaline surging through my veins.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

The woman stood, her posture straight and unyielding. "We know what you did."

My breath caught in my throat. They knew? How much did they know? I schooled my features into a mask of indifference, refusing to let her see the panic churning in my gut.

She continued, her tone even and measured. "After some deliberation, I've been sent to extend a permanent peace offering to the monsters."

A peace offering? From the alchemists? I nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. After centuries of persecution, of exiling us when they couldn't exterminate us, now they wanted to play nice?

I glanced at Bran and Roma, trying to gauge their reactions. But their faces revealed nothing, as if this wasn't news to them. Had they known this was coming?

I swallowed hard, my mind racing with questions and doubts. Was this a trap? A ploy to lull us into a false sense of security before striking again? I couldn't afford to trust them, not after everything they'd done.

But as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me yearned for the possibility of peace. The constant fighting, the endless cycle of violence and retribution... it had taken its toll on all of us. If there was even a chance of ending it, didn't we owe it to ourselves to try?

Hugh stepped forward, his hazel eyes narrowing as he fixed the alchemist with a piercing stare. "Just like that?" he demanded. "After all the blood that's been spilled, all the lives lost on both sides, centuries of misery, you expect us to believe you've had a change of heart overnight?"

The alchemist met his gaze evenly, unfazed by his hostility. "I understand your skepticism," she said calmly. "And you're right, this isn't something that happened overnight. It's been a long time coming, and there are those among us who have advocated for peace for years. But change takes time, and it's not always easy to convince those in power to let go of their prejudices and fears."

I studied her face, searching for any hint of deception or ulterior motives. But her expression was open and sincere, her posture relaxed and non-threatening. Could it be possible that she was telling the truth? That there were alchemists who genuinely wanted to end the conflict and forge a new path forward?

I glanced at Bran again, silently asking for his input. He met my gaze steadily, his intelligent eyes thoughtful.

"We'll need more than just words," he said at last, his deep voice rumbling through the room. "Actions speak louder than promises. If you're serious about this peace offering, you'll need to prove it with deeds, not just empty platitudes."

The alchemist nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Of course," she agreed readily. "We're prepared to make concessions, to negotiate in good faith. But we'll expect the same from you in return. This has to be a two-way street if it's going to work."

I let out a slow breath, my mind whirling with the implications of what she was saying. It was a risk, there was no denying that. But if there was even a chance of ending the conflict, of finding a way to coexist peacefully... wasn't it worth taking?

The alchemist leaned forward, her wrinkled hands clasped. "Franklin's actions have forced our hand. His abuse of power threatens us all. It's time to put old grievances aside and find common ground."

Bran stepped up beside me, his presence solid and reassuring. "We're open to talks, and we may never be close allies, but a future of mutual respect and neutrality is in everyone's best interests."

I couldn't argue with that. The centuries of enmity between monsters and alchemists wouldn't vanish overnight. But this was a start, an opportunity we had to seize. The cycle of retaliation had to end somewhere.

I cleared my throat. "What are your immediate terms? And what assurances can you provide that this isn't another ploy?"

"Full transparency," she replied without hesitation. "An agreement to cease all aggression, release captives, and begin peace talks in earnest. Oversight from a neutral third party of your choosing to hold us accountable. And an admission of wrongdoing in Franklin's actions."

I glanced at Bran, saw him nod slightly. It was more than I'd expected, honestly. A real overture and not empty promises. I couldn't detect any hint of deception from her.

"We'll need to discuss specifics, but... I believe you. Cautiously," I qualified. "We accept your offer to open a dialogue in good faith. But we remain vigilant. We won't be fooled again."

Bran fixed her with an unwavering stare. "But let me be clear. If this turns out to be another trick, another trap..." He paused, jaw clenching. "There will be no more chances. No more mercy. The lives and well-being of my people, of all the other monsters you've wronged, must come first. We cannot afford to extend trust again if it's betrayed. Is that understood?"

His tone left no room for argument, low and resolute. I'd never heard Bran take such a hard line before. He was always the diplomat, the peacemaker. But even he had limits. And the alchemists had pushed him to them one too many times.

The woman held his gaze steadily. "I understand completely. You have my word, and that of the alchemists, that we are sincere in this overture. But I acknowledge your reservations. They are justified. We will have to earn your trust through our actions, not empty assurances."

Bran nodded curtly, apparently satisfied for now. I still couldn't quite wrap my mind around it.

The woman turned and left without another word, the click of the door sounding impossibly loud in the silence left behind.

Luce squeezed my hand, jolting me from my spiraling thoughts. I squeezed back, anchoring myself in his steady presence.

A sudden chime split the air, making me flinch.

Hugh glanced down at his phone, his face morphing into surprise as he read the screen. "It's from Martellus. Shay's in labor."

Roma leapt to her feet. "What? Now?"

Bran peered over Hugh's shoulder, his brow furrowed. "He says her water broke an hour ago. They're en route to the hospital."

I shook my head regretfully. "I'm sorry, I don't have the juice to go. The rest of you, scram."

"I'll call for the helicopter," Tanni said, already stabbing at her phone. "It'll be faster than a car anyway."

As the others erupted into a flurry of activity around me, I leaned back against the pillows.

It was actually kind of lucky that Shay was in labor. Now she'd have to deal with all this attention.

Roma turned to Bran, her hand finding his. "I have to go. Shay needs me."

"All of you, go," I said firmly. "I'll be fine. Shay's the priority right now."

Luce nodded. "We'll keep you updated on Rissa's condition. Just focus on Shay and the baby."

Roma hesitated a moment longer. "Rest up, okay? No more heroics until you're back on your feet."

I managed a weak salute. "Yes, ma'am."

With a final squeeze of my hand, Roma hustled out of the room.

Luce smoothed my hair back from my forehead, his touch infinitely gentle. "How are you feeling, really?"

I leaned into his hand, letting my eyes drift closed. "Honestly? Like I went ten rounds with a meat grinder. But I'll live."

"You better," he murmured fiercely. "I didn't wait this long for you just to lose you now."

I cracked one eye open, my heart stumbling at the raw emotion in his gaze. "Luce..."

"Shh." He pressed a finger to my lips. "Rest now. We'll talk later, when you're stronger."

I wanted to argue, but someone had tied ten-ton weights to my eyelids.