Reckless (The Powerless Trilogy Book 2)

Hay is stabbing me in the head.

And so is the finger Kai jabs me with. “You sleep like the dead.”

I roll over, grumbling into the pack I’ve been using as a pillow. “Just practicing for when I inevitably am.”

He makes a sound that might just be a stifled laugh. “Up. Now.”

“I’m tired.”

“So am I,” he sighs. “Specifically of you.”

“You’re the one who chained us together,” I mumble. “So you’re not allowed to complain about my company.”

“Up, Gray.”

“Make me, Azer.”

Shit. That was a mistake.

He swings his legs over the ladder, managing to drag me over to him. Then he’s climbing down, yanking my back across the straw and toward the edge. “All right,” I gasp when my head is nearly hanging over the wooden loft. “You’re insufferable.”

He stops long enough to let me shove the hat over my hair and fumble to pull on my socks before the accompanying shoes. “So you’ve told me. Many times.”

Dull sunlight squeezes through the slits of wood the barn wears. The day is young, still scaring the shadows away. My boots find the ground with a thud that lifts a cloud of dust. Horses peer around the corners of their stalls, perking curious ears at the strangers staring back at them.

“This way,” Kai whispers, leading me to the back of the barn. He nods to the animals lining the walls. “These horses are conditioned for long journeys. And we have enough food and water in your pack for four days.”

“Yes, thanks to me,” I murmur.

“Yes,” Kai nods. “Thanks to you and your thievery.”

“I prefer the word skills, but—”

A horse brays to my left, making me jump. “Damn these beasts,” I breathe, heart pounding.

Kai chuckles. “These beasts are the gentlest ones you’ll find.”

He unlatches a stall and quietly pushes it open. The horse inside is a deep brown, his coat dull with dust. Kai absentmindedly runs a hand down his snout before grabbing a saddle from where it’s thrown atop the wall.

“Come introduce yourself,” Kai says softly, nodding toward the horse he’s now saddling.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

The bastard yanks the chain, causing me to nearly stumble into the beast breathing down on me. “Asshole,” I hiss at him, straightening to find myself staring up at the horse.

“Oh, come on, Silver Savior,” he mocks. “He won’t bite… probably.”

I roll my eyes at the prince before hesitantly raising a palm to the horse’s snout. His nose is soft and warm as he gently nuzzles against my hand. I muster a small smile, swallowing my fear for such a formidable creature. Because something so strong is never truly tamed.

“Your bravery is inspiring,” Kai says dully. “Now open the door so I can walk him out before the stable hands get here.”

Annoyingly enough, I obey and step aside as he leads the horse out into the center aisle. Hooves clop against the packed dirt as we head for the barn door and final stretch of the city beyond. We are nearly outside when a shadow slips into the barn before the figure follows.

The man stumbles to a stop, taking in the horse and the two strangers stealing it.

“What the hell?” he stutters, eyes skimming over us.

Kai’s gaze never strays from the giant man. “Get on the horse, Gray.”

“But the chain—”

“Then put your foot in the stirrup and hang on.”

I don’t even have the chance to argue before the man is stepping toward us, gripping something that glints in his hand. Kai pushes me behind him before ducking under a punch the man throws at his jaw.

The fight is a blur I can barely see from behind Kai’s back. The man grunts when he takes a hit to the temple but manages to have the Enforcer doubling over after sinking a fist into his stomach.

“Yeah, take your time with that saddle!” Kai calls behind him, narrowly avoiding another hit.

His sarcasm shakes me out of my stupor to struggle with the stirrup. When I watch him fight, it’s hard to look away. It’s a practiced precision. An alluring sort of chaos.

The toe of my boot teases the stirrup as I attempt to balance on one foot. I hear the scuffle and scraping of boots before Kai’s back is ramming into me, knocking the wind from my chest and the feet from beneath me. I hit the ground with a thud but force myself up before I’ve even chocked down air for my burning lungs.

I look up to find the man clutching his bloody nose and stumbling back from a hit. Kai doesn’t waste a moment before turning to wrap a hand around my thigh and shove my boot into the stirrup. Then his hand is on my back, pushing me upward as I begin swinging my other leg over the saddle.

When the chain tightens, Kai grips the saddle and hoists himself up to sit behind me, stretching the chain between us. I glance at the man beneath us, now stumbling forward to grab my leg. I kick violently, trying to free myself from the clammy hands clamped around my calf. When he doesn’t budge, I bend to grip his hair before driving his broken nose into my kneecap.

He howls, blood streaming down his face as he staggers back. I’m suddenly thrown against Kai’s chest when he digs his heels into the horse’s sides, spurring it into a run. It’s only when we’ve flown out the barn door and into the streets that Kai slows our pace. Barely.

I’m gripping the horn of the saddle, squeezing my eyes shut with every turn. Kai’s hands are resting on my thighs, his chin hovering over my shoulder as he grips the reins. This far from the main market, there are few people brave enough to live so close to the Sanctuary. But those who do find themselves jumping out of our path to avoid being trampled.

The sound of pounding hooves on cobblestone echoes off the surrounding brick walls. A gust of wind catches the brim of my hat, tearing it from my head and into the street. Silver hair is falling down my back, exposed in the daylight for the first time.

“Duck, darling.” Kai’s hand finds the top of my head, pushing it down before we ride under a fallen beam wedged between two buildings.

“Don’t call me that,” I say, straightening as I run a hand over my frizzy hair.

“Don’t call you what?”

“Darling. That’s what.”

I can feel his smile against my neck. “Why? Like it too much?”

“I think you like it too much,” I challenge.

He huffs out a laugh that stirs my hair. Wind combs its cool fingers across my scalp, and I almost sigh at the feeling. The open air is freeing, tempting me to stretch out my arms and embrace it.

I watch what is left of the city pass by in a blur, barely glimpsing the occasional person pointing in our direction. But before long, the street stretching beneath us grows rockier as the Sanctuary of Souls looms closer.

I swallow. This is it. This is the beginning of the end I’ve prolonged for so many years.

There is no hope of rescue beyond Dor. The Sanctuary is my death sentence. It is all hope dashed and fate sealed. It is destined doom.

Road turns to rubble, buildings into boulders. Kai slows our pace when we enter the narrow passage that is the Sanctuary of Souls. I can just make out the outlines of each shallow grave and cracked tombstone that earned this place its name.

“You don’t believe what they say about the souls, do you?” I ask quietly, eying the crumbling stones carved with faded names.

“I don’t know if the dead haunt travelers,” Kai sighs. “But I can’t say I haven’t seen some strange shit happen out here.”

“Like what?”

“It’s better if you don’t know, Gray,” he says smoothly. “I don’t need you scared of the horse and our surroundings.”

The laugh that bubbles from my throat surprises even me. “You’re not funny,” I barely manage beneath the palm I’ve clamped over my mouth.

“Really?” Kai bends over my shoulder to look at me, his voice comically confused. “Because it sounds like I am.”

I turn away, hiding my face from him. “No. I won’t give you the satisfaction of making me laugh.”

“But then you’d be depriving me of the sound.”

I fall silent, dropping the hand from my face. He shifts behind me, clears his throat, feels unsure, as though he’s surprised by his own words.

This is the part where I should tease him, should tell him that flirting is futile.

But his tone is familiar, feeling like dancing in a dark room and thumb wars under willow trees. The way the words rolled off his tongue felt like a light flick to the tip of my nose, like calloused fingers braiding silver hair.

It felt like Kai.

Like the man behind the masks who looked at me like I was extraordinary.

I blink at the crumbling rocks crowding the path, willing my mind to wander toward anything but the words that have me wishing things were different. But I am Ordinary. I am the embodiment of the weakness he has been taught to hate.

Ordinary.

The word echoes in my scull, sounding different from every time prior.

I knew Mixes must exist, seeing that the Elites were so afraid of becoming them and weakening their powers. But I had never questioned why I wasn’t one myself, why I am nothing but Ordinary.

I look down at the ring I’m fervently spinning on my finger. I feel foolish for not figuring this out sooner. But what I told the prince is the truth—a rare occurrence for me. I suppose I was too busy attempting to survive.

“We’ll ride until nightfall and lie low until dawn.” Kai’s words cut through my thoughts. “Bandits claim the dark, and we’ll be hidden best on the ground.”

“Right,” I say absentmindedly. A soft breeze ruffles the hair falling around my face, drawing my attention to the braid he wove and the mess of silver it’s become.

I haven’t stopped thinking about Ava. Can’t stop thinking about how gently he spoke of her, as though remembering how fragile she was. I could hear the love coating each word and the hurt echoing after.

I think of the first Trial, of Jax dying in his arms. He almost lost another sibling that day. There are few people he cares about that he hasn’t watched die—or betray him.

The sun beats down on us, and I’m beginning to wish my hideous hat hadn’t blown away. I roll up the sleeves of my shirt, exposing sun-drenched shoulders to the sky. We’ve been riding for a long while now, silently scanning our surroundings and sorting out our thoughts. Looming stones surround us, casting the occasional shadow into our path while they burn in the midday sun.

“I bet you could cook an egg on one of these rocks,” I say, my voice rough from lack of water and use.

When I don’t hear some witty response, I shift slightly, feeling a weight on my pack. With a glance over my shoulder, I glimpse inky waves resting against my back. I swallow, suddenly feeling his deep breaths, his hair tickling my arm.

He’s asleep.

The action is so unbelievably human.

His body is limp, at peace.

And completely vulnerable.

I doubt he’s slept more than a handful of hours these past few days.

But here he is, breathing deeply with his hands resting on my thighs, his fingers a loose fist around the reins.

I blink down at the leather that could lead me anywhere, could steer even the strongest creature.

My heart pounds against my chest.

This is it. This is hope.

Taking a deep breath, I begin gently uncurling his fingers from the reins, stopping at even the slightest stir. When his left hand is free, he reaches for something, flexing his fingers instinctively. I swallow, placing my palm atop his own before threading my fingers through his.

I hold my breath until he stops stirring, seemingly content to be holding my hand instead of the reins.

I make quick work of his right hand, freeing the strap to gather it into my own. There’s a fistful of leather now clenched in my hand, and I haven’t the slightest idea what to do with it. I pull to the left, hoping to convince the horse to turn.

Nothing.

I take a breath. Then I pull harder.

The horse shifts to the left, now walking closer to the wall of rocks. I swallow my frustration and prepare myself to tug even harder.

Because if I can get this horse to head back toward Dor, I could—

“I wouldn’t.”

A hand wraps around my wrist, halting my attempt.

I huff, looking up to shake my head at the sky. “Damn you.”

“Good try, Gray,” he says, lifting his head close to mine. “But you wouldn’t have made it far.”

I shrug, attempting to act unbothered. “Who said I was trying to make it anywhere? What if I just wanted to hold the reins?”

“And my hand?” he asks. “Just wanted to hold that, too?”

I had forgotten my fingers were still laced with his and quickly untangle them. “I liked you much better when you were asleep,” I say sweetly.

“Good to hear you liked me at all.”

Crumbling bread sticks to the roof of my mouth.

I take another swig of the water we’re supposed to be using sparingly, washing the dough down. The fire Kai built is dwindling, no more than dying flames in the growing darkness. He sits beside me, chain stretched between us, occasionally picking at his bread after tending to the horse. The poor creature must be exhausted after carrying us all day in the heat. We only stopped when the shadows crawled toward us, slipping over the stones to swallow us in darkness.

“You know, this was meant to be a final resting place for the royals,” Kai was saying, nodding to the rocky ground around us. “Hence the name, Sanctuary of Souls. The first queen was actually buried in a crypt within one of the caves, but when the bandits began to claim this land, they abandoned the idea.” He takes a breath, reminiscing on the history of Ilya. “So, Mareena—the first queen—is buried all alone in this place.”

I hum distantly. “She doesn’t seem to be alone.” I gesture to the graves littering the ground several feet away. “Just not with her fellow royals.” The word is coated with a bitterness I hadn’t intended to voice.

“She’s not with her husband,” Kai corrects. “Her family.”

“Right,” I say quietly, as if that passes for an apology. “So, where is the rest of the Azer family buried?

Kai picks at his bread. “There is a cemetery on the castle grounds. Every king, queen, and child is buried there. Except one.”

Ava.

With a slow nod, I shift, crossing my legs on the bedroll. Kai catches my wince at the movement. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly.

“Try again.”

I sigh. “I’m just sore, okay?” A laugh climbs up my throat. “Plagues, Kitt asked you to bring me back to Ilya, not take care of me.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “He doesn’t need to tell me to take care of you.”

“So why do it?” I lean forward, looking for any sort of crack in the mask he’s wearing. “Since when do you do anything the king hasn’t ordered you to do?”

His voice is calm. “What I felt for you went against every order I’ve ever been given.”

“Well then it’s a good thing feelings aren’t getting in the way anymore,” I say quietly.

He dips his head, suddenly interested in the loaf of bread still in his hands. I clear my throat, looking up at the stars winking down at us. “Why did you…” I pause to consider why I want to know the answer before I even finish the question. “Why did you tell me about Ava? You said you never talk about her.”

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing at the crackling fire. “I think that question deserves a dance.”

I choke on my scoff. “I’m sorry?”

“You know how this works, Gray,” he says simply, as though it’s painfully obvious. “We dance—you get your answer.”

“Please,” I snort. “This has to be a joke.”

His head tilts slightly to the side. “Is that a no?”

“Why,” I say, exasperated, “would you want to dance with me?”

“You’re asking more questions, and yet, we still aren’t dancing.”

I shake my head, smiling at the sky. “Fine.” I stand to my feet, brushing the crumbs from my shirt. “But only because I want answers. Because this is ridiculous.”

He smiles slightly before standing to extend a hand I hesitantly take. “Let’s see what you remember.”

“I remember how to stomp on your toes.” I smile, draping my arm over his shoulder.

“I’m sure you do.” His hand finds my waist, fitting there in a way that’s far too familiar. “Why don’t you show me that you remember how to stand close to your partner?”

I fight the urge to deflect and force myself to step into his warmth. The corner of his mouth lifts as he takes my free hand in his own, lacing our fingers together. His palm flattens on the small of my back, making me swallow.

“Very good, Gray,” he murmurs. “Being close to me always was the most difficult part for you.”

“That’s typically how it is when someone is insufferable, yes.”

“All right, smart-ass.” He’s looking down at me, smiling slightly. A long moment passes. “Are we going to dance, or would you rather continue staring at me?”

I look away, cheeks burning. “I was not staring at you.”

“Fine. You were admiring me, then—”

“You haven’t answered my questions,” I cut in.

“And you haven’t honored my terms.” He nods down to my planted feet. “We still aren’t dancing.”

“So start leading, Azer.”

His eyes flick between mine before a smile lifts his lips at my challenge. “Yes, darling.”

He begins a simple step, forcing my feet to stumble in time with his. After several counts and far too much concentration, I finally relax into the movement, letting my feet find the familiar rhythm.

“So,” I say slowly, “my question.”

“Which one?”

“Ava.” I pause. “Why did you tell me about her?”

He sighs against my hair. “Do you… do you remember the second ball, when I was—”

“When you were belligerently drunk?” I say, tilting my head to look up at him.

His smile seems sad. “Yes, when I was belligerently drunk. Which was your fault, by the way.”

“My fault?” I scoff. “How was that my fault?”

“You were dancing with my brother; that’s how.” He spins me then, surprising me into tripping over my feet. “You were giving him that look like you do.”

“What look?”

“I’m not quite sure,” he says quietly. “You never gave it to me.”

I look away, uncertain what to say. He clears his throat. “Anyway, one thing I remember very clearly from that night was when I dragged you onto the dance floor.”

“Yes,” I smile, happy to have changed the subject. “I remember that very clearly too.”

“I kissed your hand before we danced. Do you remember?”

I nod slowly, recalling how his mouth brushed my knuckles for everyone to see.

“And then my lips found the pad of your thumb.” His voice is a murmur, a memory made words. “I hadn’t even realized I’d done it.” He shakes his head. “And until that moment, I hadn’t done it in years.”

“I remember that too.” I search his face in the shadows. “I wondered what it meant.”

“Ava was a Crawler,” he says quietly, still dancing slowly. My mind wanders to the many figures I’ve witnessed scaling the crumbling buildings on Loot Alley, their ability allowing them to climb effortlessly.

“She was only a Defensive Elite,” he continues, cutting into my thoughts. “Some people say that your level of power is due to how strong you are physically and mentally. And Ava was born weak.” He spins me again slowly. “As she got older, using her power was difficult. She would grow tired and fall from the walls. Then she would cry, saying that all she wanted was to be strong.” He sighs through his nose, looking up at the stars. “So, I would kiss each of her fingers to ‘give’ some of my power to her. She loved it. Made it higher up the wall every day. But she especially loved when I kissed her thumbs, told me it gave her extra strength. So that’s what I did. I kissed her thumbs every day until Kitt helped me bury her.”

I haven’t realized there are tears in my eyes until one threatens to fall. “You loved her very much,” I whisper.

“I did. I do,” he says simply. “And I’ve never kissed a thumb that wasn’t hers.”

“So,” I breathe, “why mine?”

He finally meets my gaze, shaking his head slightly. “Your spirit is familiar. You remind me of what could have been. In another life, I think Ava would have grown up to be like you.”

I struggle to laugh. “What, you wanted her to be a criminal?”

“No,” he murmurs. “I wanted her to be formidable. Recklessly bold. Powerful despite ability.”

I stare at him, taking in each word.

“I am none of those things,” I whisper.

He drops my hand to brush gentle fingers beneath my chin, raising my face up toward his. “You are much more than those things.”

“You overestimate me.”

“No. I just see you.”

Adena was the only person who had ever truly seen me and stayed despite it. But she is gone. And it’s the prince meant to kill me who now says the words she used to reassure me with.

I swallow the sentences I don’t know how to say. “I’ve never cared enough to kiss someone else’s thumb,” he continues softly. “But my lips found yours that day.”

“And look at where that got you,” I whisper, fighting my smile.

My gaze travels over his face, from the gray eyes that see me to the soft lips that have tasted me. I feel myself falling into something familiar, like a trap I’m willingly walking back into. His hand is firm on my back, burning like a brand and pulling me closer with each step of this back-and-forth dance between us. Once again, I find myself walking the sharp end of a blade, knowing it will inevitably cut me in the end.

And yet, my fingers find his hair. My body presses against his. My heart beats to be broken.

He smiles in that way that has me suddenly smiling back. Dirt crunches beneath my boots as we dance in the dark, the chain wrapping around my leg to continually trip me. I huff, irritated with the damn thing. Kai chuckles when I stumble into him for the dozenth time, to which I glance up with a glare.

“Don’t hurt yourself, darling.” Before I even have the chance to respond, he’s wrapping his arm fully around my waist and lifting me onto his boots.

“What the hell…?”

He grins, flashing both dimples at me. “Let me dance for the both of us.”

I swallow my protests, looking down at my booted feet atop his. The arms he winds around my waist are strong, secure in the way they hold me against him. “Kai,” I whisper. “We shouldn’t…”

“Shh.” His mouth is against my ear. “Pretend.”

The word floods me with a false sense of relief, as though I’m suddenly allowed to want this. To pretend that this is okay. I twine my hands around his neck, struggling to smile with all the emotion crowding my face.

He stops abruptly, searching my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I smile sadly, fighting the tears that threaten to fall. “I just… I used to do this with my father. That’s why I never learned to dance properly.” My laugh sounds pained. “Because he always just did it for me.”

He nods, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry I did this to you.”

I sniffle quietly. “Did what?”

“This hurt,” he murmurs.

We sway in silence for a long while before I finally allow my head to rest on his chest. He’s a weakness. A comfort I shouldn’t allow myself to seek out. But I let his feet guide mine, shutting my eyes against the flood of memories.

“He used to dance for me until I fell asleep,” I whisper against his chest.

I feel him nod against my hair. “Then we’ll dance until you’re dreaming of him.”