I frowned. “Of course not.”
“Cool, right?”
I shrugged. “I guess so.” That certainly explained the laughter coming from the other room. “Hopefully he’s got other, more useful skills up his sleeve.”
“Sheesh,” Rabbit said, crossing his too-thin arms. “What crawled up your ass?”
I glared.
“Oh, I get it,” he said. “You haven’t eaten anything yet, right?”
“What makes you say that?”
He shrugged. “You’re always kind of bitchy when you’re hungry.”
“Then why don’t you make yourself useful and get me some food?”
He grinned. “I love you too, Six.” With that he darted down the hall, calling out greetings to those he passed along the way.
I groaned and pulled myself off the bed. At that point, I’d have traded my left arm for that kid’s energy. Unfortunately, I’d need my left arm and all the rest of me to face the coming battle with Icarus and Saga. Because I was about to show them that their favorite puppet had some moves of her own.
* * *
Icarus pulled me aside the instant I walked into the room. “Let me do the talking.”
I laughed. “I’m more than capable of speaking for myself.” I pulled my hand out of his grasp and walked away before he could recover from his shock.
“Six,” he hissed. I kept walking.
Dare stood on the far side of the room. She glowered at me, not bothering to hide her anger. Since we’d arrived at Saga’s, her attitude had shifted from ambivalence toward me to outright antagonism. I’d thought we’d reached a stalemate of sorts, but I guess she’d found a reason to blame me for the fact she couldn’t take part in the mission—if one happened. I turned my back on her, not because I trusted her not to attack, but because I needed her to believe that I wasn’t threatened by her.
Zed was standing near the table, spinning a dusty old globe and running his calloused fingers over the outlines of the old countries. That map might as well have appeared in one of Saga’s beloved fantasy novels. There were no more borders. The vampires controlled everything. They’d redrawn borders to delineate territories, but the entire world—and every human and vampire therein—was controlled by the Prime.
When he caught me looking at him, Zed nodded. His eyes didn’t quite meet mine, and I felt something in my chest thaw. His embarrassment over crying in front of me the night before was endearing, as was his obvious love for the children he protected. He was a sort of anti-Icarus. They both protected those under their care, but appeared to have completely opposite approaches. Having lived under Icarus’s glower for so long, I had to wonder if I might enjoy Zed’s approach better.
I shook myself mentally. If things went as I’d planned, I wouldn’t be under anyone’s power or protection anymore. Needing protecting meant you were never truly able to be free, even if the protector was benevolent.
The shuffle of Saga’s halting steps came from the corridor. I turned to watch him enter in Polonius’s wake. The massive dog made a circuit of the room, sniffing all present to ensure we were all supposed to be there, before he went to lie down across the doorway. Saga took his spot at the table. Before he addressed us, he closed his eyes and breathed in deep, as if the musty scent of paper and old glue filled him with strength.
“Six?” he said, opening his eyes. “Have you made your decision?”
All eyes turned toward me. The weight of those four gazes pressed down on me. Each of the people watching me wanted something different. Icarus wanted me to refuse. Zed wanted me to accept. Saga wanted me to accept under false pretenses. Dare watched me, too, but she just wanted me to get my answer over with so she could be mad at me regardless of which path I chose.
“I thought long and hard last night about our options,” I said. “It’s clear there are no easy answers here, and no matter which option we choose someone is going to get hurt.”
Saga clasped his hands in front of him, the model of patience. But in his eyes, I saw the shadows—the opposite side to his warm protector role. It was the side of him that manipulated all of us into doing his bidding. It was the side that was fully prepared to withdraw any and all aid were we to balk at his demands.
“Compromises must be made,” I continued. Saga flicked a brow, and behind me, Dare sighed audibly. “I am prepared to proceed with a plan to infiltrate the camp.”
“Six!” Icarus’s voice lashed out like a whip. “We talked—”
I slashed a hand through the air. “No, you talked. I know you have misgivings and I believe they are justified. However, what kind of humans are we if we don’t do everything in our power to save those children? How are we any better than vampires?”
“Not all vampires are monsters,” Dare said.
I turned to her. “Don’t try to derail this conversation because your ego is bruised.” Her eyes flared like she was ready to attack, but I held up my palm and softened my tone. “I’m sorry you aren’t able to help inside the camp, but we need you on the outside. You and Icarus will make sure we get out alive.”
She looked so confused at my tone and my words that it would have been comical under different circumstances. Her gaze dropped to the floor, but Icarus wasn’t done.