And so I filled them in on my idea, my brain spinning fast as it weaved through the ins and outs of what I wanted them to do. I tried not to think about the lives on the line, about how this was treason and I could be executed if I was caught. Instead, I pretended this was another game from my parents to test my skills. I could do this. I had trained for this my whole life.
"We'll never have enough time," T.R. said when I finished.
"I'll give you time," I said.
"Fine, let's do it," said Trix. They turned the truck around and headed toward the center of the city instead of out.
I drove my damaged Bruiser back to the sleeping Officer and then pulled him into the back of the truck. I expected it to be harder to lift him, between the bulk of his body and the weight of his gear, but he turned out to be surprisingly light and it only took a few moments, hidden within the truck, to pull off his uniform and slip it on over my own borrowed clothes. I put his helmet on and could see a display of the action through the e-Video all the Officers were looped into. The Inquisition had the rebel van surrounded. They had no way out.
Disguised in the Officer's uniform, I ran toward the portable command center the Inquisition had set up. A giant Bruiser, big enough for more than a dozen people, with a cannon on top. My body ached and the blood around me, pooling under dead bodies and leaking through fabric, should have made me sick. All those lifeless victims. Instead, I felt a deep hunger despite my anger and outrage, and I felt physically weak, shaky, and so tired, but I kept pushing myself toward the command center.
I climbed into the back, faking a calm authority I did not feel in that moment. Remember, little Star, if you look like you know what you're doing, people will assume you do.
My dad's voice in my head gave me the confidence I needed to pull this off. There were half a dozen other Officers in the command center, each actively engaged in surveillance. None of them stopped me.
The Head Inquisitor sat in the very back at his computer, an Officer guarding him.
On my e-Video, the Inquisitor's voice spoke as Bruisers filled with Officers surrounded the rebel van. "There's no way out. Surrender now."
I walked toward Ragathon, who was still speaking into his e-Glass, broadcasting his voice to the rebels and his own troops.
The Officer guarding him tried to stop me, but I grabbed his arm and focused my powers, giving his mind just a nudge, enough to make him forget about me. I'm not important. I'm supposed to be here. Disregard my presence.
It worked, but it cost me. I slumped against the wall as a wave of dizziness threatened to topple me over. What was happening to me? And why now? At the worst possible time.
The Officer moved to the side and ignored me. I looked at the Inquisitor. He sat without his helmet, and I could see the blood pulsing in the vein of his neck. The sweat staining the collar of his uniform.
My stomach clenched again.
He looked up at me, but I knew he couldn't see my face. "What are you doing here, Officer?"
I had to make contact before he had time to get away, to take me out. I didn't speak. Didn't think, just lunged for him, flipping my body over the table that stood between us until I had him pinned against me.
I could hear an Officer in his e-Glass speaking. "Sir, the rebels have surrounded the truck with smoke. Should we move in, sir?"
I pushed my will into him, waiting to feel that control I'd felt before.
It didn't happen.
Instead, Ragathon fought back, knocking me to the side.
My helmet fell off and he looked down at me as recognition spread on his face. Then he smiled. "You."
Oh no. This couldn't be happening. Not only had I failed the mission, but he now knew who I was. I would die for this for sure and there was no way Jax could save me.
Hunger burned in my throat, tearing at me from within.
The weakness I'd felt turned to raw need. I pushed myself up and toward him, knowing I had to take him out before anyone else saw.
My mouth ached, teeth burning as I crashed into him.
And then, instinct took over. The pulse of his throat cast a web around me, and my newly elongated eyeteeth sunk into his flesh. Warm, coppery fluid filled my mouth, pouring down my throat, quenching the need I hadn't known I had. Satiating the craving that had slowly been weakening me and my powers.
I felt it all return. My power, my strength, my mental clarity. Everything.
And before his pulse stopped for good, before he died in my arms, I pulled away, his blood dripping from my lips. I still needed him to save the rebels.
Ragathon was finally under my control. He didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even blink. I reached for the helmet and put it back on, hiding my identity once again.
"Sir? Should we move in?" asked the Officer again through the e-Glass. "Alright, I'm making the call. Move—"
"No," I said. But it wasn't me speaking. I spoke through Ragathon. "Stand your ground. Let's see what they do."
I could hear the uncertainty in the Officer's voice. "But… Sir, yes, sir."
In my e-Video, the smoke cleared, and the rebel van was still there.
I smiled, and I realized it was actually my face smiling, not Ragathon, but I could still feel his mind in mine, feel his consciousness merged with my own.
Or maybe I'd merged with him. I couldn't tell. It all felt the same.