She could have the spotlight because I didn’t want it. I’d come to accept the fact that Ember and I would never be friends, not like we once had been. Things were too different now.
I’d admit learning to control this power residing in me was vital. It had become clear to me after today if I didn’t, I could do more damage than good. But I didn’t want to become something I wasn’t, someone I didn’t recognize like Ember. Staying true to myself was of the utmost importance.
I wasn’t a killer.
But this world had a way of changing people without their knowledge, and that was my greatest fear, more so than the Institute or what other tests they might subject me to.
After two weeks of constant combat training without a day to rest, I was burnt out. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep doing this. Each night I dropped into bed, exhausted and sore to the bone. My body was covered in bruises and cuts. I understood the concept of tough love, but this was whacked. It was cruel.
I thought about Dash and the scars on his body. It wasn’t hard to understand how he’d received them now. So many times I thought about running to my father and begging him to stop this harsh treatment, but I refused to give him or anyone else who doubted me the satisfaction of thinking I couldn’t handle it.
I’d just finished another five-hour, grueling session and stepped out of the shower. It didn’t matter how clean I scrubbed my skin, the stain of how far I’d almost gone was still there, and I vowed to never lose control like that again.
I’d come here to find my family, not to become an assassin or a ninja, though I did look damn good in black—beside the point. Being here didn’t make me happy. I was miserable, and my future didn’t look promising or bright. All I saw was fighting and more fighting, to the point where it would become all I knew—a trained soldier with no thoughts or opinions for herself.
There was only one thing left to do.
I had to see my father.
Chapter Six
I found my father in his office sitting at a table, head hanging forward and his eyes scanning a chart.
“Am I interrupting?” I asked softly, as my knuckles rapped on the door.
He glanced up from the clipboard in his hand, a flop of hair falling over his forehead. “Muffin, I was just looking over your report the commander sent up for my review.”
Disappointment fell in my stomach like rocks. For one day, I just wanted to be his daughter, not another prospect for his program. He already had one daughter who was a trained guard, a weapon. Why did he need another? “Wonderful,” I said in a monotone. “What negative remarks did he leave me this time? Does he detail each time I got the crap kicked out of me?”
“Now Charlotte, Jaxson is just doing his job, as everyone here is.” Eyes much like mine used to be, roamed my face. “You know we have healers who can make you good as new,” he said without missing a beat. Bruises colored my cheeks and all he had to say was “get a healer.”
“The pain reminds me not to take life for granted,” I replied, plopping down in a chair on the opposite side of the desk from him.
“Why not benefit from the resources we have been given?”
I scoffed. “How many of these ‘resources’ are here of their own free will?”
He set down the clipboard on the table, giving me his serious expression. “Not this again. You still think we’re holding all of these people against their will?”
I fiddled with the corner of the desk, picking at a sliver of wood that was coming off. “I don’t know. Nothing makes sense.”
“Give it time. You’ll come to understand that the Institute isn’t the enemy. There are things out there we need to protect ourselves from.”
Maybe he was right. Then again, maybe Dash was right. Either way, I wasn’t here to discuss that. “I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.”
“Yes, I remember what it was like when I woke. I was one of the first, you know.”
I did, but listening to him reminisce about how difficult and savage it had been prior to the order of the Institute was not on my agenda. “I want to ask you a favor. I think it would help me settle.”
He folded his hands on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “What is it, Muffin?”
I cringed. The childhood nickname no longer gave me the warm fuzzies of being safe and loved.
“You don’t have to be nervous. If you need something, I am sure we can find a solution,” he reasoned, reminding me for a moment of the father I grew up with. Reasonable and reliable—two words that had come to mind when thinking about my dad.
I took a deep breath and then decided the only way to get through what was going to be an awkward request was to blurt it out. So I did. “I want you to stop hunting Dash.”
Dead air.
The man didn’t even blink. It was inhuman the way he just stared at me as if someone had frozen time. “Why would we do that?” he finally managed to say.
“Because I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me since I got here. More or less. I’ve never complained, and I haven’t asked for anything … except this,” I added.
The frown on his face deepened. “I can see this is important to you. May I ask why?”
“Why I would care about someone like Dash?” He hadn’t come right out and said it, but I knew where his thoughts had gone. I folded my arms across my chest. “He saved my life, or have you forgotten? Isn’t that enough to reprieve him of his previous crimes? Give him a second chance?”
“That’s not how things work here.”
“But you have the power to call off the hunt for him.”
He kept his expression blank, but the tick just above his eye signaled his displeasure. “It isn’t a hunt. The Night’s Guard has been ordered not to kill him. There is no need to worry about Dash’s safety.”
But I did. And until I knew Dash didn’t have a target on his back, I couldn’t relax. “If you don’t do this, I will leave the Institute.” Time to play hardball.
Stern lines creased the corners of his lips. “I can’t let that happen.”
I shot forward in my seat. “Why? Because you’ll imprison me again? Will you lock me in that god-awful pink room forever?”
“I can’t allow you to go out there on your own. I forbid it, especially to go after some foolish boy. This isn’t high school.”
I’m sorry, what? Forbid? What was I … five? “Excuse me? I am almost eighteen. Technically, I’m a hundred and seventeen. You no longer get to tell me what I can or can’t do.”
Dr. Winston heaved, giving me a withering look. “Charlotte, he is dangerous. Very dangerous. Dash is not the kind of person you should concern yourself with. He is a murderer.”
I begged to differ. I hadn’t expected this conversation to go well, but it had taken a turn down shitville. It was probably a good idea not to mention that I was kind of in love with him.
Not that it mattered though. Dash had made it clear that he wasn’t free to reciprocate my feelings. Even knowing that, my heart ached to see him. Just once. I needed to know that he was alive.
“I killed someone. Are you going to condemn me to the dungeons?” I challenged.