Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (70 page)

An occasional, quiet, “Stop it,” was all he received back.

Though there was an element of logic to her protest against Natalie teaming up with them, Esther knew there were other factors at play. Emotional factors. The kind of factors that, try as she might, she’d never been able to control. Not as a teenager, not as an EDEN cadet, and not as a love-stricken member of the Fourteenth of
Novosibirsk
. Esther was, quite simply, Esther—for better or worse.

But this was much, much worse.

Esther was living in a nightmare of her own creation. Ju`bajai’s influence on her—the crux of her turmoil—was a direct result of the person she’d been to everyone else. Sneaky, manipulative, the jealous author of a little black book of secrets and countermeasures. The Ithini had said it herself: this was learned behavior. There was no one but Esther to blame. For the first time in her life, she was tasting how it felt to be the friend of Molly Polyester. There wasn’t much “friend” to be found.

Like a horrible chain reaction, Ju`bajai’s influence on her had spread to her personal life with Jayden, which spread to her lack of composure when it came to dealing with other annoyances, like the sudden acceptance of Natalie Rockwell as part of the tribe. But even in that, Esther had only herself to blame. There was no logical reason for her to despise “Venus” so deeply. There were more reasons to pity her. Natalie was a victim in all of this; yet, she received Esther’s contempt. Natalie was the new Svetlana.

How Esther wished that Svetlana was there.

Then, there was Jayden. The mere thought of the Texan brought a gut-wrenching ache to Esther’s stomach. It was easy to pin the blame in her own mind on Ju`bajai for the “Scott” slipup. But truth be told…that slip might have been all Esther’s. There was no evidence that Ju`bajai had been in her mind in the V2, and though the Ithini had slipped things into Esther’s mind before—like the vision of the Ithini’s origin while Esther was at
Cairo
—this didn’t feel anything like that. Scott’s name had just come out naturally, as if Esther had whispered it a thousand times before. She had fantasized about Scott Remington in ways that shamed her to her core—fantasies with no basis in reality other than to entertain the lusts of a woman who felt entitled to a man. Whispering Scott’s name was habit. Ju`bajai was not the one to blame for that. Leaning her head back against the wall, eyes red and face tear-streaked, Esther blindly rubbed the top of Flopper’s head. This, like so many other things, was her mess to clean.

A knock came to her door.

Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark!

Flinching at the sudden eruption from Flopper, Esther scowled as the dog scampered for the door. Pushing lazily to her feet, the scout said, “All right, all right. Can it, dog.” Making her way across the room and shoving Flopper away from the door with a gentle nudge of her foot, Esther unlocked and cracked open the door. Peering inside from the hallway was Scott. Blowing out a breath that made no effort to hide its sense of dread, she opened the door fully to face him. “Hey,” she said quietly.

Scott barely had a moment to say, “Hey,” back when Flopper assaulted his knees, leaping against them as if the dog was trying to bowl Scott over. “Hey! Come on, calm down.”

Bark! Bark!

“Okay, fine.” Kneeling down to satisfy the animal’s exuberance, Scott rubbed Flopper’s back as Flopper leaned sideways into him, tail wagging and tongue hanging dopily. Looking up at Esther, Scott said, “They’re going to take Travis and Donald to a graveyard in Norilsk soon. I thought you’d like to know. This’ll probably be your last chance to say goodbye.” Angling his head strangely as he looked at her, he asked, “Have you been crying?”

Rubbing her temple with her hand, Esther answered, “I’ll go see Travis in a bit. I just need a few minutes.”

“No, you’ll go see him now.” When Esther gave him a flat look, he said, “Travis has been a part of your life for almost a year. You’ll never forgive yourself if you get there and it’s too late.”

“Fine. Let me just freshen up.”

Scott took a step back into the hall. “Now.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Esther said, “Yes, master.” Abandoning all efforts at retreat, the scout stepped out into the hall with him.

“And while we walk, you can explain what the hell just went on in the conference room.”

“Ugh. Must we?”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, I’m afraid we must.”

That was the last thing Esther wanted to talk about, and Scott was the last person she wanted to talk about it with. Begrudgingly stepping into the hall, Esther took to Scott’s side with all the enthusiasm of a naughty child in line for a scolding.

“So what in the world is going on?” Scott asked. “I feel like this goes beyond Captain Rockwell.”

“What if it doesn’t? Am I allowed to just not like the woman?”

He eyed her. “Why weren’t you sitting next to Jayden?”

Stopping in her tracks, Esther stared at him. “My personal life is none of your bloody business.”

“The point is,” said Scott, “you’re not acting normal.”

She resumed her pace in order to keep up with him. “And what exactly is normal?”

This time, it was Scott who stopped. Turning to give Esther a sharp eye, he said, “Stop with the act—and yeah, I’m calling it an act.” She pursed her lips, but said nothing. “You’ve got a barrier up as thick as the Hoover Dam. What is going on with you?”

Staring at Scott with an almost calculating glare, Esther set her hands on her hips as if digging in to the trenches of defiance. At long last, though—and when it became apparent that Scott wasn’t budging—her face softened. Sighing, she put her hand back down and walked past him. “Did you know that I struggle with things?” she asked almost nonchalantly.

Walking again, he followed behind her. “We all struggle with things. I struggle, Dave struggles, Jayden and Becan struggle. Everyone here is struggling.”

“Yeah, well there’s a big difference between ‘everyone’ and me.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

Pivoting to face him, the scout answered, “Because you’re all good people.”

Scott cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean—”

“I mean you’re all good people. I’m not.” Her jaw tightened. “
That’s
the difference between everyone else and me. You’re fighting your circumstances, while I’m fighting my sodding self. And I’m realizing right now how much I don’t enjoy it.”

“I’d be lying if I said I was following any of this,” Scott said, “but do you not realize who you’re talking to? I’m a fulcrum, Esther. I’m a Nightman.”

Esther drew in a breath and said, “So am I.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “So you’re…what?”

As if suddenly debating whether or not to continue, Esther finally succumbed to inevitability. The intensity in her words faded away. “I’m a Nightman, Scott.”

“I’m talking
literally
, Ess. Not some figurative thing, where you feel like a—”

“I’m a valkyrie.”

Scott stared dumbfounded as she went on.

“Antipov approached me before the
Cairo
mission—before my ‘makeover.’ He wanted me to be something new. A prototype.” The whole while she spoke, Scott stared with utter bewilderment. “He used Alexander Nijinsky as my rite of passage. He asked me if I wanted to be something no one had ever seen before: the world’s first female Nightman. And I accepted it for the
stupid
motivation of one-upping you.” She spread her hands out as if mockingly revealing herself. “So here I am, Molly Esther Brooking, valkyrie of the Nightmen—your sister in arms.
Now
tell me how you’re so much more fallen than me.”

Peering at her as if trying to see through her, Scott simply asked,
“Really?”

“How do you think Rashid knew to arrive when he did? Do you think we all just lucked out while
Cairo
was raining down on us? Rashid knew to come because I commed Antipov while I was escaping alone.” She set her jaw as if awaiting a confrontation. “I was Antipov’s eyes. On the mission, on
you
, on the entire operation. When things were falling apart, I was the one who called for our extraction.”

With a look that seemed to be putting pieces together, Scott angled his head down to the floor in thought.

Esther inhaled slowly through her nostrils. “So as you can see, I am truly,
truly
struggling. With my choices, with my place in life, with the person I bloody am. I am
not
terribly impressed with myself.” The scout’s eyelashes flickered downward. “I destroy everything that I touch. You’re right in that Jayden and I weren’t sitting together in that meeting. It’s because he’s the latest casualty.” Her lip quivered ever so faintly, but she maintained her composure. “I hurt him
so
deeply. Had someone hurt me…humiliated me in the way that I humiliated him…I would never forgive them. I lost him, Scott.” Shaking her head in disgust, she said, “I lost him when I’d barely vecking had him. So
that
is the story of me. Aren’t you so proud of your Type-2 bloody scout?”

Setting his hands on his hips, Scott’s gaze remained downcast in thought. For several long moments, silence lingered in the hallway. At long last, head looking up to regard her again, Scott gave her his reply. “I’m not even sure what to say.”

She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “Of course, you’re not.”

“‘Valkyrie’ is a
really
cool name.” Caught off guard by the casualness of the remark, Esther eyed him. “I mean it,” Scott said. “I’m going to be totally honest—it’s kind of hot.”

“Oh God, really, Scott?”

Raising a hand of good intent, Scott went on. “I think you’re waiting for me to be appalled, so let me go ahead and end the suspense. I don’t care that you’re a Nightman.”

Esther looked at him warily.

“I got my blowup out of the way when I found out you killed Nijinsky, so, I’m good on that,” he said. She only vaguely reacted to the sarcasm. “If there was anyone on the Fourteenth that I’d have picked out to become a Nightman—who wasn’t already one, of course—it’d have been you, even being a woman. Not because of what the Nightmen are, but because of how incredibly exclusive that club is. You were born to be a VIP.” He sighed exhaustedly. “And so no, Ess, I’m not all taken aback and ready to punch you, or however you thought I’d react. I can relate to the self-loathing. It’d be incredibly hypocritical of me to pile on you for going down the same path I went down myself.” Faintly, he laughed. “Okay, so maybe the
woman
thing is kind of weird. So I guess, technically, you’re a
Nightwoman
?”

“I’ve honestly not given it much thought.”

Scott shrugged and went on. “So, big deal. Welcome to the club. It is literally the worst club ever.” Esther half smirked, half frowned. “What I’m more concerned with, though, is what you said about yourself. You’re not a bad person.”

“Oh, come on, Scott. I killed Alexander Nijinsky. I tried to move in on my commanding officer.” She exhaled, exasperated. “I shoved porridge in your poor girlfriend’s face.”

“In all fairness, I shoved a pie in her face.”

Esther eyed him. “You know what I mean.”

“Esther, what do all three of those things you mentioned have in common?”

At the question, Esther raised a curious eyebrow. “Umm, nothing?”

“They’re all crimes of passion.” Esther’s eyes narrowed, as if she was considering that answer for the first time. “I can spot that right away,” Scott said, “because I’m that way, too. We are not that dissimilar. And I think that’s why we’re attracted to the people we’re attracted to.” Lifting his hands from his hips, Scott folded them across his chest. “Are Sveta and Jay not two of the most reserved people we know? In their own ways, of course, but just the same. They balance us.

“Look, I don’t know what you did to Jay, but whatever it was, if you talk to him, I’m willing to bet he’ll forgive you for it. That’s who Jay is. You’ll never find a better man than him—I mean that as a testament to him, not a knock on you. He’s one of the truest, most faithful guys I’ve ever known. So talk to him.”

Esther shook her head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Maybe it is simple. Maybe people like you and I make things harder for ourselves by assuming everything has to be dramatic to reach a resolution.”

Though her eyes stayed on him, Esther said nothing.

“But whatever you do, don’t wallow in a bad attitude. That’s not going to get you anywhere. Talk to Jayden, be honest, and see where it takes you.” He scrutinized her. “Does he know about the valkyrie thing?”

“No,” answered Esther quietly.

Scott frowned. “He needs to know that, too. Don’t keep those kinds of secrets. Just tell him and see what happens.” Pausing for a moment, Scott said, “And after you’ve talked to Jayden, talk to Captain Rockwell.”

Instantly, the scout rolled her eyes. “You had me locked in, then you had to bloody ruin it.”

“Why don’t you like this woman?”

“I don’t know! She’s annoying? I just don’t like her, Scott—I don’t care that she’s the victim, here. She and I will never be friends.”

Scott shook his head. “You don’t have to be friends. But you need to be able to work together. For the purpose of this mission, for the purpose of moving forward in an uncomfortable situation for everyone involved. Will you try?”

“That is asking a terribly lot. I don’t trust her, Scott.”

“Should anyone trust you?”

The Briton angled her head ever so slightly. Brown eyes distancing for a moment, they refocused on him when they found an answer. “No. I suppose they shouldn’t. All right, fine—I’ll try.” She crinkled her nose. “Don’t get so clever, Scott Remington. I don’t particularly enjoy it.”

He smirked in response. “I can live with that.”

“I’m sure.” Turning away from him, she resumed walking to the hangar. “So what did I miss in this little meeting of yours?”

“It might have been brief, but there was nothing little about it. It’s a shame you had to miss it.” When she sighed, he went on. “Antipov has arranged for the device we want to be transferred from
Nagoya
to some place in Tokyo on a special bullet train. We’re going to hijack it.”