Never Too Late

[Oriena]

None of her shoves were gentle. However he’d ended up in this shithole mess, she was angry at him for it, and injured or not he deserved the roughness she dished out. On the steps outside he reached for her, presumably to steady himself, but she let him fall. Over his crumpled form, Ori’s gaze cast over the figures huddled at the end of the drive. Enshrined by vengeance and flame she knew they must look monstrous as the house burned behind them. A lesson learned in blood: one those spared ought to heed. She felt no guilt.

And she didn’t once look back.

Cords of power hauled Nox away. She ignored the shadows which hurtled past them, and the sobbing that followed, instead fishing Nox’s wallet from him. His skin scorched hot even through his clothes, and it only deepened her fury. At him. At the dead fuckers in the house. Nox’s unconscious carcass was going to be a pain in the ass to move even with the power. His pulse thrummed shallow and fast, and it made her want to shake him until his fucking teeth rattled.

Ilya’s girls would come to Kallisti if she asked. Zeke had cleared her debt, and in any case Nox was on Almaz’s roster, so she had no concern that they would come. But she knew first hand the toll it took, and she’d heard the horror stories that circulated in the pits; of those too far gone to survive it. When Ori had been healed there herself she’d been unconscious and had barely any memory of the experience beyond how it felt after. Pure, soul-deep exhaustion. And her burns had been severe, but help had also come quickly. There hadn’t been any infection to contend with.

Nox wouldn’t thank her for a hospital, but it might be the safer bet if he wanted to live long enough to be mad about it. Fortunately, Ori also had an experience of healing she did remember, when she’d fucked around with Ivan at the fundraiser and driven the glass shard into her own hand. That time it’d had no cost; in fact, she’d felt rejuvenated after in a way she’d never felt since. Jensen James was a name that had been entirely blacked from the records since then, and she wasn’t stupid enough to advertise the secret, but it didn’t take a genius to realise the whispered miracles of Iásōn amounted to the same thing.

Air lashed Nox against her back on the bike. She revved the engine and set off as she called Sage on Nox’s phone. Lucky for him he had interesting friends, and she had no idea if Sage was really as useful as Nox always made out, but she guessed she’d find out.

“He’s fucked. You heard of Iásōn? Pull some strings, sweetheart. We’ll be at the Guardian.”