Chapter 16

16

Halo was nowhere to be found when Bridger and Meyer came back through the portal to Tolevarre.

Meyer stomped, cursing the young kid loudly in the abandoned Vates forest.

"Relax. He couldn't let Arlet know that he was working with us. He probably took them back to wherever it is they're hiding." Bridger leaned against a tree, a small wince of discomfort drawn on his face at the burn in his leg while his muscles began to repair themselves from the stab wound.

Meyer continued to grumble, complaining that they would now have to find a way back to Aeris.

"Would you have rather traveled with Halo again?" Bridger asked.

Meyer leveled his gaze at Bridger. "No, but that doesn't mean I want to walk hundreds of miles back to the capital either." The grump really couldn't find a silver lining in anything.

"We just need to get to Pax. We can find transport there." Even while he healed, Bridger pushed them forward, giving his brain a task to avoid the looming reminder of what he'd done, of what he'd sacrificed by letting Vega and Arlet go.

It took hours to get to the border of Pax, a land known for its healers. Their gardens could be smelled from miles away, wafting the scent of fresh lilies and local blooms through the breeze as they approached a small village on the very northern border.

The smell of hydrangeas hit Bridger like a pack of wolves, ripping into him without warning. The scent wasn't what churned his stomach… They were Vega's favorite.

Meyer was ahead of him, keeping an eye out while Bridger fell a few paces behind. He blamed his speed on the slow healing of his leg when Meyer asked if he was okay, unwilling to bring up the smell of the flowers raging war inside his head.

Heads turned as they wandered the cobblestone streets, slick from a late afternoon rain shower. The homes in this border village were all different colors, their mismatched baskets with flowers on the windowsills standing out against the facades of their homes.

Bridger was still covered in blood and Meyer caked in mud. They were a sight to behold, strolling through the tidy streets of Pax.

Residents bowed their heads in respect as the commander and his general stalked through the streets, coming upon a barn stocked with horses and one gracious stable hand who was too afraid to say anything when asked to tack two horses up.

The vehicles used by the military and the families of power weren't available for those living in the outlying lands surrounding the bigger cities. Most of the advanced technology in this region was saved for Tolevarre's main hospital.

Each territory had its own healers, locals of Pax placed throughout the realm to assist in whatever the leaders might need, but Pax itself was riddled with the big and the small—healers who could fix a downed tree with just a touch or those who could stitch a wound with nothing but the flutter of their fingers over the skin.

Those with powers that didn't assist in bodily healing were pushed to the side and seen as unimportant, but without them, the rest of the realm wouldn't be what it was.

Marlena and her followers forgot that a long time ago.

Bridger and Meyer picked up their pace on horseback, stopping just a couple hours outside of Stella to let the horses rest and hydrate at a runoff from the mountains.

Meyer broke the silence. "What are you going to tell Marlena? We should have our stories straight."

Bridger's eyes narrowed. "There's no story to tell. You got knocked out, I got stabbed, and Arlet got away with Vega." His lie came out with such ease that even he might have believed himself if he didn't know the truth.

That I'm a crumbling fucking liar.

The truth was that Arlet had won this round—he'd let her manipulation work, winning a battle she had no business walking out of unscathed.

Meyer knelt and cupped his hands together, bringing the fresh water to his lips before splashing it on his face to rinse the dirt and grime of the day away.

Bridger didn't bother cleaning up. He took a sip of water and stood back up.

"Don't you think she's going to find it hard to believe that the Videri without powers outsmarted us?" Meyer always had a way of asking questions Bridger didn't want to answer.

"I'm sick of caring about what Marlena thinks, Meyer." Bridger's annoyance turned to anger, raising the temperature of his blood. "Arlet Videri is stronger than any of us will ever understand, and she isn't the person she was fifty-five years ago. She knocked your ass out with ease… Are you embarrassed by that? Is that why you're so adamant that I did something wrong?"

Meyer bit the inside of his lip, frustration marring his features. He puffed air out of his pursed lips, scratching the back of his neck before speaking. "I'm just saying that maybe these dreams are getting to you and?—"

The ground rumbled before Bridger exploded with his building irritation. His bonded dagger flew out of the holster on his leg and landed in his right hand. "And I'm telling you to drop it! Now!" Bridger dug his feet into the bank's grass, keeping his distance from Meyer because his fury was a risk to the safety of others—hurting Meyer wasn't something he'd ever considered, but Bridger felt himself slipping day by day, the torment of his dreams eating away at him. He couldn't trust himself not to mess up everything he'd sacrificed for.

Meyer's hands shot up in surrender, eyes wide. "Bridger," he said, barely breathing.

What the fuck is happening to me?

"Time to go," Bridger growled, resheathing his dagger. He mounted his horse and didn't turn back to make sure that Meyer was following.

Word traveled fast in Stella.

Marlena barged through the front door of her estate with her guards and Ivelle on her heels. "Where is she?" she roared.

Marlena's guards were for show—she hadn't needed them since the night she overthrew the Curia, since the night she summoned the twelve original gods and survived.

Bridger's horse shuttled back quickly, nostrils flaring as she picked her head up. He pulled back on the reins, settling her down in the face of danger. "She got away." Bridger looked down at Marlena from his mare, her hooves clacking against the stone drive in nervous steps .

"What do you mean?" Marlena's teeth were bared, eyes fixed on Bridger with intent to kill.

"Arlet stabbed me, knocked Meyer out. And. Got. A. Way." The last few words Bridger slowed down, really enunciating the last two he spoke.

Bridger dismounted, pulled the reins over the horse's head, and handed them over to a servant. Meyer caught eyes with Bridger, sending him what was certainly a look of good luck and don't die as he put as much distance as possible between himself and the fire Marlena was about to rage.

Marlena's eyes fell to the blood soaking into Bridger's uniform. "You let Arlet beat you? Arlet, the Videri without an ounce of power." Her voice was seething.

"Marlena, don't be dim. Do you still believe Arlet went through the summoning just like the rest of us and came out of it completely unchanged?" He cocked his head, standing in front of the hot-headed blonde. Bridger wouldn't reveal Arlet's powers, even after being stabbed by her. "She's not the same Arlet who you used to?—"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Marlena barked, grinding her teeth. "She's still a rat, and you're the strongest warrior our people have ever known. How am I supposed to believe she got away unscathed?" Marlena's growing anger raised the volume of her voice every time she spoke.

Marlena's staff started to pay closer attention, stalling their daily duties in hopes they could get a view of the argument going on between the commander and their ruler.

The gardener tending to Marlena's impeccable lawn of weeping willows and non-indigenous plants settled in a flowerbed to perk up some black bearded iris. They looked as if they'd already been taken care of, water droplets glistening in the sunlight.

"No, Marlena, I don't expect you to believe that. What I also don't expect you to understand is that you sent two men into a world they've never been to, against a woman who's pissed and has been traveling into said world for nearly half a century—she's prepared and not nearly as dumb as you want her to be."

Her fist clenched, and Bridger could feel the power bubbling between the two of them. Marlena was pushing him to break, but Bridger had been breaking for days. He didn't need her assistance.

The returning feelings he'd drove so far down inside of himself and buried with a mound of concrete were now exposed and seeping through the cracks, and they pushed him farther away from Marlena.

"You better not be planning something, Bridger." Her voice was a whisper through a clenched jaw. "Vega is going to die. Forever." She grabbed Bridger's arm, nails digging into his forearm. Her touch was ice. "Don't make me regret keeping you alive."

"Imagine what would happen if you killed me now," Bridger countered, yanking his arm free and stepping around her, with the home in the background set in his sights.

Marlena's power boomed, shaking the ground underneath their feet as fire shot from her fingertips. "Find her, Bridger! Before I do it myself and burn this whole fucking realm down in the process!"

Her staff scattered, the gardener the first to hop to his feet and flee.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Bridger didn't turn back, but spoke loud enough for her to hear as he paved a path through the staff now trying to look busy.

He needed to get back to Vincere. There he would be able to regroup without Marlena breathing down his neck.

His dirty boots left tracks up the spotless stairs. He'd almost made it to his room when an ariose voice called from behind him. "Commander, wait!"

Bridger glanced over his shoulder to see Ivelle float up the last few stairs to meet him at the top. Her power rose her feet from the floor, and she floated towards him, her hips swaying as if she were walking. Her power was flight and she was inherently dangerous, but the praefectus of Amora had become lethal after years of standing beside Marlena.

"What do you want?" Bridger met her chartreuse eyes, his stare glacial and unwavering in his annoyance.

"Marlena is just looking out for you," she mused, coming to a stop in front of Bridger.

He scoffed, shaking his head as he ran his dirty fingers through his hair. He needed a shower and a shot, both of which he would wait until returning to Ardor for.

The sooner he got out of Marlena's wake, the better. Bridger knew she couldn't, but he was terrified that she might reach inside his head and pull out the knowledge of what he'd done on Earth.

"Ivelle, darling." He gritted his teeth, a vein throbbing in his neck. "You have no idea what you're talking about." He stepped forward, grabbing the beautiful redhead by her chin. Her long hair cascaded down her back, her fair skin glowing under the lighting. "Marlena doesn't care about anyone. The sooner you learn that, the better your life by her side will be."

Ivelle's mouth parted, a breathless gasp slipping through her plump lips. "I don't believe that. She just wants you to be happy, to let go of the past that is so clearly haunting you again." Bridger released her chin with a swift nudge, forcing her to take a step back. He turned away from her but could hear her footsteps following him. "Let me help you forget her."

Bridger stopped, his brain still stuck on the words Vega spoke today.

It's you.

Vega was dreaming of him too. How? Why?

Ivelle's touch radiated warmth up his arm, her hand wrapping around the brand that was a memento of the life he'd left behind—of the woman he'd chosen to walk away from. An everyday reminder of how much Vega hated him when she could remember him .

He was the villain in her story just like Marlena was, and that would never change.

Bridger looked down at Ivelle's hand before turning around. Her eyes promised lust, fun, and more importantly, an escape.

Snapping his wrist out from under hers, Bridger switched their hand placements, his hand now the one gripping her wrist. He pulled Ivelle into his chest, the other hand slipping to the small of her back.

She gasped, her head craning to meet Bridger's hard gaze as he leaned into her.

His lips were at her ear. "You want a first-class ride into darkness?"

The question lingered in the air as Ivelle took a singular breath, the inhale shaky. "Yes."

Bridger's crooked smile slid slowly over his lips, out of her view. "Then go fuck yourself, Ivelle."