“Yeah. It’s less a big secret than it is Wolfshield ensuring he doesn’t receive special treatment,” she replies. “Taylor’s not going to like it, though I guess she shouldn’t be throwing stones about us hitting out of our league with region royalty.”
“Chances are she already knows, judging by that pissing contest back there.”
“Despite what that condom wrapper implies, Taylor’s dick is three times his size,” Hunter jokes with a sigh. “I don’t give a fuck how it looks, but I don’t want to disappoint Taylor. She’s always had a very lofty image of me.”
“I’ll say. The tattoo is quite the dedication.”
Hunter squints in confusion, but then her eyes widen. “Oh, right. We all have them. I mean, I have Helios on me, he’s got Eos on him.”
“Oh.”
“Is that why you marched in here ready to eat me?” In lieu of responding, I duck my gaze. Hunter nudges me as if we’re old pals. “Trust me, it’s not like that. I know Taylor had some kind of confusing crush on me for a while, but that’s not her fault. I am criminally charming.”
I gesture around. “Is this the punishment for that offense?”
“Funny, Piccolo.” Hunter grins. “I couldn’t reciprocate how she felt about me. I wish I could. We would have been unstoppable. Not that Theia would’ve ever allowed it.”
“Allowed? You don’t need permission to love someone.”
“No, this star-crossed lovers bullshit you have going on is evidence of that. But, you needn’t worry about me. I’m as tragically heterosexual as Taylor is magnificently gay.” She pats my leg again. “Does she know? About how you feel?”
“I think so. We…yeah, she knows.”
“What was her reaction?”
“Does it matter? There’s not a lot of time for…frivolity.”
“Oh, Lucy, you sound like my mother.” Hunter winces. “Your mother wasn’t like that, right?”
“Wasn’t like what? A bitchy headmistress with a Machiavellian streak? No. She was—” I stop. Because really, what was she? A mother, my mother, and certainly a good one. A leader’s wife, no power of her own but to temper the impulsive desires of a despotic spouse. But she was far from perfect. As the memories of her fade, so too does the rose-colored filter I placed on them. “I don’t know. Is anyone how we remember them? Whatever it’s—” I wave my hand around. “She told me she can’t and I respect her decision. She’s saving the world. How I feel about her isn’t important.”
Hunter peers up at me and searches my eyes. “It is important. Win or lose, this rebellion is only worth fighting if the life we build after is worth living.”
“Now youdon’tsound like your mother.”
“I am a product of the efforts of many women,” she says, leading me out of the dorm and back toward the main building. “Not just her.”
“I’m going to tell your mom what you said.”
“I will deny it until dying breath.” She stops me before we reach the doors of the building. “Listen, I think it’s more thanprobable Taylor botched the Target Two mission on purpose. And if I suspect that’s true, you can be certain Theia suspects it as well. So, you know… be careful who you trust.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust your mother has my best interests at heart?”
I mean it lightheartedly, but Hunter grows serious. “I wouldn’t trust her, period. Let me put it this way: I strongly believe she handed me over to Wolfshield as a bargaining chip. If she’s willing to sell her daughter to the enemy, think about what she’d be willing to do to you.”
It’s a sobering thought as we approach the door that leads back inside. The soldier standing guard nods to Hunter as she walks in. It’s so unlike HQ here, so without urgency. Soldiers pass by casually, waving and nodding at Hunter. They don’t appear to recognize me, or care about who I am. The halls lack the vigilant alertness I’ve come to expect, being surrounded by a secretive order for months.
We reach Wolfshield’s office and Hunter turns to me. “Hey. Uh, don’t tell Taylor about what I said. If my mother orchestrated my kidnapping, I will find out and deal with it myself. I don’t want Taylor involved.”
Still reeling from the shock, I only nod and Hunter nods back and smacks a few knocks on the door.
“Come in.”
Hunter strolls in with me on her heels. Wolfshield’s office is cozy and inviting, with wooden paneling and turquoise accent points, as well as hand-woven rugs tossed over leather chairs. It’s warm in here, in both temperature and color. Unlike Theia’s office, Wolfshield has photos everywhere. Vacations, candid shots, different troops in matching gray and white smiling for the camera.
“Hunter,” comes the voice through the speaker. “How are you, dear?”
Hunter lounges in one of the chairs and shrugs. “All limbs accounted for, ma’am. Ten fingers, ten toes. Sparkling personality I know you missed so much.”