Tempting Fate

Twenty-Five: The Final Escape

Brynn knocked three times before there was any movement. When the back door opened, she stared down the sleek barrel of a gun.

"Who are you?" The man holding the gun was in a standard wielder uniform.

If they still thought there was nothing strange happening in this farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, that was no longer the case.

Brynn was so close to finding Arietta. The concept only sent more adrenaline flooding through her. She was careful not to let the Governor's assistant mask slip. She stared flatly at the guard. "Is Reison home?"

The gun inched closer to her. It took everything in her not to let her heart thump out of her chest, or to let her unsteady hands move from her side.

One quick twist, and that gun would be out of her face.

"Who are you." The guard repeated. Not a question. A demand. "Answer me."

Brynn only stepped back and looked up towards the camera. She really hoped there was sound on these things. They looked like a newer model—the new ones all had sound capabilities. "Reison, the Governor would like a word," she said again.

There was a dim chime before the camera spoke back. "Ah, Brynn. What brings you to our humble facility?"

Trust Reison to be cocky enough he gave away more details than he should.

He always thought his power meant secrets were not needed. That he was strong enough to take what he wanted, regardless.

"The Governor has a message," she said for the third time now. How many times would she have to repeat her own lie? Brynn flicked her attention to the guard with the gun, then back to the camera. "And I'm not giving it to the hired help."

The gun stayed steady on her.

"You can't possibly think I'm going to trust you after we found you on shifter territory, Brynn." Reison's tone was thin, as if he'd spoken through tight teeth.

If you believe the lie enough, it becomes the truth. She reminded herself. No fear, Brynn.

She kept her expression blank as she glared up at the camera. "Did you think the Governor would not plant someone on the inside, Reison?" Brynn crossed her arms over her chest, grateful that the dark mostly hid her quiet shaking. Calm, she ordered herself. But after the last 72 hours, her masks were all chipped and unsteady. "The Governor was playing the long game," she told Reison. "Something you screwed up."

Her plan hinged on the Governor not yet telling Reison about her failure. About her being compromised.

And if she wasn't right, if the Governor told Reison, then she would quite literally get a bullet to the face in the next few minutes.

The night air was silent but for a distant cricket buzzing.

Then Reison said, "Deliver your message, and leave."

If he didn't want to come crawling out of his cave, they were screwed.

Brynn tried a different tactic. "Governor Quinn said it had to be in person."

Nothing. Not a single sound. Brynn stared at the guard and waited. Finally, when her nerves couldn't take it any longer, she said, "Reison, surely you're not scared of one little human—"

Behind the guard, there was a solid thump, and a quiet whoosh—like an automatic door opening.

Then Reison was there. "Brynn."

Brynn stepped back off the porch as both the guard and Reison stepped outside.

"What is it?" Reison asked. His lip curled upward.