Your Knife, My Heart, page 6
“Do you know him?”
The silence is answer enough, so I don’t press him on it.
“That’s all there is to the Under. They’ve already finished drills today and lights-out is in thirty minutes, so I suggest getting everything you need done before then,” Cameron says thoughtfully, as he guides us back to the barracks.
“Let me guess, it gets really dark,” I muse. Nolan already made it clear that it does. Darkness has never really held weight over me, though, not like it does most people. I find we become more instinctive in the shadows. I glance at Cameron, and my jaw clenches with the idea that I have to sleep beside him tonight.
Instinctive in many ways.
He grins. “The darkest night you’ll ever know, love.”
That’s reassuring.
The rest of the cadets are already in their cots by the time we get back to the barracks. Some are reading books or playing cards with a group around their beds, others are—
My heart rate spikes and I look away sharply.
“Yeah, people fuck like crazy down here.” Cameron laughs at the way I stare at the ground. I’m no virgin, but holy shit, it’s not even dark yet. “Do you blame them? Most of them aren’t leaving the trial grounds—well, besides in a body bag.” He speaks so confidently, like he’s not worried about himself getting out at all. Let alone me.
I shake my head. “This is all so fucked-up.”
Cameron turns his eyes back on me, ignoring my amusement at what’s happening behind him. I hold his gaze.
“Is it, though? I don’t know about you, but I was a goner in society. This is the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” His grin falters. We reach our bed, and he sits at the edge.
His hands must be stained red like mine are. Likely more, given his habit of killing his partners alongside being a prized possession of the Dark Forces.
“What did you do?” I ask as I drop my thin blanket and pillow before sitting crisscross on the floor. As much as the floor will be uncomfortable, I’ll take the space it gives from my future murderer.
Cameron shakes his head. “I wouldn’t tell you even if I trusted you. And what are you doing? You’re not sleeping on the—”
“Yes, I am. I don’t want to be crammed in bed with you.” A laugh bubbles up from my throat. “And why don’t you trust me?”
His eyes darken and he looks around to make sure no one is listening to us. “Because that’s how people here gauge you. How they decide who they’re teaming up with and going after. You look like you have loose lips, spilling secrets like you would my blood.” Loose lips? I lift a scathing brow.
He brushes his fingers across my jaw, staring pointedly at my mouth. I narrow my eyes at him. He drops his hand, but not his gaze.
I nod. I suppose if you were vicious in the real world, then in the Under you’d be worth gold to have on a team. But on the other hand, what was your crime? Everyone disagrees with something. You’d be placing a target on your back no matter what.
“I thought we didn’t need friends, according to you.” I watch as he lifts his hoodie over his head, half his corded muscles exposed and on display. My palms burn hot against the floor.
“Yeah, we don’t. But we also don’t need more enemies.” He stares at me for a moment too long, making my fingers curl, before he pulls on the black standard T-shirt everyone else is wearing.
“I’m sure kicking other cadets in the face helps on that front.”
He barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “Oh, it does.”
I wash my face with cold water and grip the edges of the sink before looking up at my reflection. Strands of my hair are wet and cling to the sides of my face. Dull, weary eyes stare back at me. I take a steadying breath.
I just need to sleep. My life has been flipped upside down in a matter of forty-eight hours, but I’ll be fine. It’s better than prison.
As I’m leaving the bathroom, the lights cut out.
It’s a darkness I’ve never known. No windows, no stars, no artificial light from smoke detectors. The air itself feels charged with malice. The bathroom has the faintest glow coming from the only source of light. I have to squint to see that it’s a small light installed into the ceiling, hardly casting enough to see in the bathroom. That’s all we get?
I freeze where I am and stare into the abyss of beds and soft snores. Farther away I can hear more people having sex. Damn, Cameron wasn’t kidding. Everyone’s living like it’s their last day. It’s all a bit exciting, to be honest, the rush of not knowing what’s going to happen next has me on my toes. All of which I’m sure will be more entertaining when I’m not half asleep like I am now.
Slowly, I start to walk in the direction I remember our cot being. I pass a few beds before I stub my toe on one. I wince and hold my breath so I don’t wake anyone up. After a few more cots, I debate on turning back and trying again from the bathroom.
“Lost, are we?” Cameron whispers from my right. I turn and can just make out his silhouette in the dark.
I fully embrace the shade he’s throwing and hunker down on the floor, glad that I at least have a shitty blanket and pillow. I had to endure worse when I trained for the Russian operation my father devised, he had “matters” to take care of and therefore so did I. Though I was the only one who had to sleep on stones so wet and cold that my entire skeleton ached for days after.
I shut my eyes and try to focus on the sliver of hope that I’ll one day be out of this hell. That I’ll be done with getting tossed from one shit situation to another.
Shuffling from above breaks my focus. I open one eye and can barely make out Cameron peering down at me. His sage eyes seem to reflect even the smallest fragments of light.
Does he think I can’t see him?
After he stares for a few minutes, I finally break and snap at him.
“What?” I whisper.
He’s quiet. Then he mutters, “You don’t need to sleep on the floor.”
“Better than being strangled in my sleep.” I let a soft laugh slip and roll to my side so I don’t have to look at him.
“Can you please just sleep up here so I don’t feel like an arse?” When I don’t respond, he goes on. “I’ll pick you up if I have to.” He moves to bend down and scoop me up.
Oh my God.
I sit up and glare at his dim figure. “I’d rather eat dirt. Now shut up. You’re going to wake someone up.”
It’s pitch-black, but nothing could keep me from seeing that grin pull at the corner of his lips. I don’t know what he finds so amusing about me. My brows knit together at the thought.
“Then eat dirt tomorrow, just don’t sleep on the hard floor. You’ll have enough of that in the trials.” He pats the mattress. I clench my jaw, losing the will to fight his offer as I consider how much my body aches already.
With brief consideration, I settle on grabbing my blanket and pillow and lying down at the very edge of the bed. It’s a twin, so there’s no spare room for two full-grown adults. One being a giant.
We’re smashed together, his front to my back.
I close my eyes and try to pretend this isn’t happening. Try to pretend that I don’t feel the hard expanse of his chest warming my back. He scoots in roughly, hand on my hip and pulling me close as if he doesn’t care that we’re flush against one another. A small squeak escapes my lips that I’m sure at least twenty people hear.
“You’re welcome,” he chides. I feel the warmth of his breath on the side of my neck, his brawny arm slouched over my stomach.
Only a few weeks—I remind myself—until I most likely die in the trials. The thought makes me feel sick.
Suddenly, his warm body and the soft bed don’t seem so bad.
6
CAMERON
Waking up before four a.m. to take pills is difficult this morning. One, because I woke up with Emery’s arms wrapped around my chest and her cheek pressed against my shoulder. Two, because I really didn’t want to lose the moment. It was odd because this is something I don’t normally particularly enjoy. Comfort.
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, hating that I’m here again in the Under. It’s been almost seven years now, yet it feels like it’s hardly been a day since I left this awful place. Memories of the faces I once knew during my time down here flash through my mind.
I don’t want to remember them. All the people I grew to know in the Under…none of them made it out with me. I scoff and shake my head. Why do they even tell us to make friends before the trials? False alliances that will fall apart the moment the trials begin. The Dark Forces truly are a testament of the evil that lives within us.
I throw back the last two pills and swallow them, letting the empty plastic bottle drop into the sink.
At least Adams hasn’t changed. It was good to see that he’s made a name for himself down here. Though I bet it eats him up inside that someone as fucked-up as me gets to be on a squad while he’s trapped in this never-ending cycle of carnage. You’d have to be one tough son of a bitch to endure that.
A direct knock comes from the bathroom entrance. My eyes slide lazily toward the door, expecting Nolan because he knows about my four a.m. fix problem, but I’m surprised when Lieutenant Erik steps in.
My body physically responds to his presence—heart rate spiking and my stomach turning as I recall his knife in my eye. I couldn’t feel the pain, but I felt the pressure behind it, the swelling of my flesh and inability to see for days. He’s the only man on earth who could kill me in a one-on-one fight. He knows all my techniques, all my flaws.
I stand swiftly.
“Lieutenant.” I salute him and stand at attention. Erik doesn’t like formalities when it’s just us. He’s like a father to me, one that I never had. But I always insist on being formal, it feels like the only thing I can do right when everything else I do fails him.
He’s the strictest of the four squads, being the only lieutenant still active on missions since our sergeant died in action a few months back, but he’s also the most patient. I think Sergeant Jenkins on Riøt would’ve iced me a long time ago if I was on his squad. Rumor has it that he’s ruthless for being as young as he is. Many of us have never met him, and honestly, I don’t want to.
“At ease,” Erik mutters as he looks around the communal bathroom. His eyes lock on the empty pill bottle in the sink. “I see you’re still choosing to commit to this slow death,” he says in a monotone voice.
I respect that he’s so hard to read. It keeps me on my toes. But deep down, I know he cares about his men more than he lets on. He doesn’t have to check in on us, but he normally does. I think he’s the only officer who’s managed to keep a sliver of his empathy for others, not that he’d ever admit it.
He’s been giving me a hard time about the pills since I started taking them. Granted, he’s been able to watch my mind unravel over the years. I wonder how far I’ve fallen from the man he once knew. I think he allows me to continue taking them because it’s the only real value I have in the general’s eyes. Nolan fucking hates my guts.
“I’m going to get the injections too. General Nolan has a new poison scheduled for this morning,” I say sardonically as I toss him the empty black bottle.
Erik catches it and lowers his hand to his side, unfazed. “Without my approval?”
I shrug, annoyed that he’s pretending like he’ll ever actually deny new test drugs. “General Nolan offered and I accepted. You’ve already thrown me back into the Under, so I don’t see why it matters to you. I know we don’t have time for a field bonding training with Emery, but you still could’ve let me know you booked us for the level black mission in—”
“I know. Who do you think is organizing the missions with Nolan?” Erik’s cold eyes inspect me for a beat before he tracks back to the meds. “You put yourself here, Cameron. Not me. You know that…as much as you know you’re killing yourself with these.” He lifts the pill bottle for emphasis.
My smile is small and defeated. “I’m different, lieutenant. They won’t kill me like the others.” A stream of blood trickles down my nose and over my lips. I wipe it away with my sleeve. Nose bleeds are a normal side effect of the drug, but so is murdering my partners, apparently.
He raises his brows like he pities me and mutters as he leaves, “No. You’re not different, Mori. No matter how much you crave to be special, you simply aren’t.”
His comment is a strike to the gut.
I stare at the gray walls of the arena, thinking about his words while I wait for Nolan to retrieve me for the injections.
Erik’s wrong. I am different. No one’s survived this long on the enhancement medication. I’m the only one who’s shown a positive response to them. The injections are supposed to be a huge improvement from the pills, especially when used together. Well, at least that’s the end goal. We’ll see how it actually starts off.
I’m going to be whatever the Dark Forces wants me to be, and with these stimulants I can become the ideal soldier they desire, able to kill more efficiently.
The ultimate weapon feels no pain.
Nolan doesn’t say a word when he sees me waiting for him. He keeps his hands tucked in his camo pant pockets and offers a short nod.
We pass the barracks and my eyes are drawn to a splash of soft pink. She’s already awake?
I stop, not really knowing why. All I know is that I want to observe her from afar as much as I do up close. There’s something about the way she holds herself that demands my attention. The red that rims her eyes and makes her skin look soft. The fierceness that radiates in her soul.
“Mori.” Nolan’s voice is sharp and pulls me from somewhere deep in my mind.
I break my trance on her and resume walking, trying to sort out the confusion she instills inside me.
I can’t remember the last time I didn’t want to hurt someone.
7
EMERY
Despite my pride, last night was probably one of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. I fix my hair into two braids and toss them over my shoulder. A few pink strands border my face, my bangs crest just over my brow.
Cameron wasn’t in bed when I woke up.
It’s early, so I’m surprised that he’s already awake. Everyone else is still either lightly snoring or tossing and turning in a fit of unrest. I quietly get dressed in my tactical gear, including the vest. If there’s anything I learned yesterday, it’s that I don’t trust anyone down here. They’re all practically feral and ready to fight at a moment’s notice. I pull a black hoodie with DF embroidered on the left sleeve corner on over everything.
Everything down here is cold.
I think of how close Cameron was pressed against me last night. His arm wrapped around my center and his lips buried in the crook of my neck. My cheeks burn and I shake my head to clear away the dark thoughts forming in my brain as I recall his boner against my ass at some point.
A flash of movement draws my attention to the door leading to the arena. Cameron?
My feet are quiet as I slink across the vast cement room and peek around the corner. The heel of a combat boot slips from view and down a different hallway. I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one has woken up before following the person.
I didn’t get to explore by myself last night, so curiosity keeps me moving forward. I don’t remember this path being on Cameron’s little tour.
A beeping sound around the corner makes me pause at the edge before peeking. Two men stand at a metal door with a keypad next to it, just like the one leading into the Under.
The shorter man in front is without a doubt General Nolan, I’d know that pristine haircut anywhere. The taller one behind him is harder to recognize since he’s wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled up. My eyes narrow as his head turns enough for me to see his dark brows and sharp jawline.
Cameron? Where is he going?
The two of them step through the door, and it shuts behind them. There are no windows to peek through or other ways to see where they went from this area. I even go as far as to search for a vent in hopes I can find a way to listen in and gain information, but this place is locked up tight.
What lies behind that door? If Cameron knew it existed, then why didn’t he include it on the tour yesterday?
Stop thinking about him, I tell myself as I pick through a bland bowl of cereal in the cafeteria. It’s been an hour and I still can’t get him off my mind.
This area looks identical to the barracks, minus the beds and filled with tables. I sit alone and try to ignore the glares that the girl with Damian is shooting me from across the room. I overheard one of the other cadets calling her Bree. She’s clinging tightly to Damian’s arm like she owns him. A loose smile spreads across my lips. I can’t help that I enjoy her ire toward me.
A tray slams on my table and scares the shit out of me. I blink up and immediately sour at the sight of Cameron. He slides into the seat beside me and gives me a wry grin. His sage eyes are clearer today. Did he run out of pills? His hood is still pulled up like it was earlier, but I can see his tactical clothes underneath. He’s wearing the vest too, so I feel confident in my decision to keep it on.
“Hey,” he mutters as he scoops cereal into his mouth.
I look around, everyone has fallen silent and stares at him with wary eyes. Quite frankly, I don’t blame them. Not after he kicked Damian’s face yesterday. But something tells me that it’s more than that.
“Why is everyone looking at you?” I whisper.
He isn’t fazed by my question, nor does he look up to see for himself. “I’m guessing word got out that I’m a soldier already on the Fury Squad.”
I don’t know why the idea that even the cadets may have heard of his little problem of killing people didn’t cross my mind before.
“That popular in the Dark Forces, huh?” I say in a playful tone, deciding that I’m going to show everyone, including Damian, that I’m not afraid of Cameron. He lowers his head to take another bite and as he does, I see a small needle mark on his neck.
