George POV

  George couldn’t keep the grin off his face, despite his best efforts. No, that was a lie. He didn’t put his best effort into hiding his glee. How could he? After Sid stole his gun the day before.

  He’d been dying to see the look on Sid’s face when he realized his friend had been abducted. The only unexpected twist was Tony’s decision to send Rohan back instead of Pallavi. Since Aditi wanted to save Rohan, they’d devised a plan to hold him hostage, effectively keeping him far away from the actual fighting.

  None of them expected Sid to cave to their demands and show up at the rendezvous alone. He would bring his team at the bare minimum, if not rouse the entire camp. The presence of George and his team at the camp was to ensure that Sid couldn’t bring anyone else to the fight.

  Still, he wondered why they had sent Rohan instead of Pallavi. Was it because of the fight? Had he accidentally killed her? George had someone from his team check on Tony after they initially left the camp with both hostages, which was how he found out about the violent dispute.

  Word was that Pallavi had landed a punch on Tony, while he was using her as a training dummy. George couldn’t fathom how anyone could push through Tony’s overpowered suppression trait. He was completely helpless against it himself. The bitch might have bitten off more than she could chew. And choked on it. Tony would have pulverized her for daring to strike back; hell, George knew he would’ve done the same thing in his shoes.

  Sid brushed past them to meet the approaching Rohan, with Varun close behind; not wanting to be left behind, George and the Garrison Leader hurried after them.

  “Where’s Pallavi?” Sid’s voice held a sharp edge, reminiscent of the threat he had leveled at George the night of the Kurushingal murders.

  Rohan approached with slumped shoulders, dragging his feet like a condemned man. His eyes remained glued to the dirt. Only flickering up when Sid called out. Even then, his gaze darted away from the others until it locked onto George. A flash of recognition, followed swiftly by stark fear, crossed Rohan’s face before he hurried his steps. That was exactly the reaction George craved. He would rather be feared than loved.

  Rohan halted about six feet from the group. “She’s out training with Aditi and Tony.” He refused to make eye contact with anyone, not even his teammates, and paused his words, clearly trying to recall the rest of the lie fed to him. “I came back to inform you guys.”

  Beside them, the Garrison Leader breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “You need to log these things in the ledger and leave through the main gate. Just because you’re all strong doesn’t mean the rules don’t apply to you.”

  George couldn’t gauge if the Garrison Leader bought the flimsy lie, but the man’s willingness to gloss over it without scrutiny proved he had no intention of getting involved of his own accord. That suited George just fine.

  He stepped forward, angling himself to face the Garrison Leader rather than Rohan. “I can handle things here while you go sign off on the roster. Also, there seems to be an issue with the drinking water. Could you check on that as well?”

  The Garrison Leader was a bloody goody-two-shoes. Not the naive, altruistic activist type. Those guys wouldn’t last long out here. No, he was a pragmatic realist. He knew the world was shades of grey and had made his peace with it, but if something insidious happened right in front of him, he would step in to stop it without hesitation.

  The Garrison Leader hesitated, turning to Sid for confirmation. At Sid’s silent nod of consent, the man finally turned and headed back toward the camp gate. They had already covered significant ground since leaving the entrance; the fact that Sid had spotted Rohan from such a distance proved his visual skills were high level—at least an uncommon rank.

  “Let’s go talk in private,” Sid said, his tone brooking no argument.

  “No,” Rohan and George called out in unison.

  Though they shared the same word, their deliveries couldn’t have been more different; Rohan was tense, bordering on panic, whereas George looked completely smug and unbothered.

  Taking a deep breath, Sid zeroed in on Rohan. “What is going on?”

  Rohan shrank back, guilt written all over his slumped posture. He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to hold anyone’s gaze. “Tony has Pallavi. He’s holding her hostage until you show up to fight him.” He cast a nervous glance at his watch. “We have less than an hour to get there.”

  “What?” Varun’s voice shattered the ensuing silence with all the finesse of a sledgehammer.

  “They ambushed us outside the camp,” Rohan said, his voice cracking. He recounted the fight in painstaking detail, fielding Sid’s clarifying questions as the latter tried to gauge Tony’s skill set. Unfortunately, Rohan was mostly useless on that front, having been paralyzed from the very beginning of the brawl. A pathetic display, in George’s opinion.

  “Unlike Pallavi, I couldn’t do a thing to help,” Rohan finished. His head hung low, but he tilted his eyes up to look at Sid.

  George caught the subtle, questioning lilt in Rohan’s tone. An inflection Sid ignored.

  Suddenly, Varun lunged forward, hauling Rohan up by his collar. “How many times did I tell you not to trust that snake?” Varun threw a brutal punch. Blood erupted from Rohan’s nose, streaming down his lips and staining his shirt.

  Sid shoved them apart, wedging himself between the two. His gaze remained locked on George, just as it had been throughout Rohan’s entire story. “Why did you want George here?”

  “Because of Tony’s orders,” Rohan said. “He said we were supposed to go to their hideout with George and his team.”

  Right on cue, George’s men revealed themselves. They emerged one by one, some strolling out from the camp gates while others stepped from the shadows of the forest.

  “I’m not letting you slip away this time, or run back to the camp for backup,” George said. His grin widened as his backup arrived. “We leave now. No stalling. No planning.”

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  “Or what?” Varun shot a look at Sid, silently searching for permission to attack, but Sid gave a curt shake of his head. Varun glared back at George. “We can take you all out right now.”

  George’s grin slipped. He hated the unwavering confidence in Varun’s voice; it sounded as if Varun believed they could take down George’s entire team, despite being outnumbered three to one.

  A sinister smile crept back onto George’s face. “Even if you beat all nine of us, I have more men hidden away. They’ll signal Tony, and you can say goodbye to your precious Pallavi.”

  George savored the sheer powerlessness etched onto Varun’s face. While he doubted the trio could wipe out his squad, they most likely had his stolen gun, and that single weapon left his men highly vulnerable, as George was the only one equipped with a Mana Shield. No one else had it.

  Besides, a brawl right now would ruin everything. His plan was to let Sid and Tony tear each other apart, swooping in to strike only when both men were thoroughly exhausted. Threatening their captive friend was the smartest play to keep them in line. That it made them squirm was a delightful bonus.

  “Tony only wants me, doesn’t he?” Sid kept his tone neutral and his face impassive as he pushed past the rhetorical question. “Rohan and Varun are staying at the camp. I’m going alone.”

  “Absolutely not,” Varun cut in before George could even object. “I’m coming with you.” He turned to Sid, squaring his shoulders into a combative stance, making it clear Sid would have to wrestle him into submission to keep him behind.

  The request sent George’s calculations out for a toss. It made no sense. Walking into the lair of your enemy. Alone. With no backup. Unless Sid had some hidden ace up his sleeve. Like a hidden trait.

  George couldn’t afford to leave any loose ends at the camp. What if they gathered reinforcements and came after him? Yet, it wasn’t the people that worried him; it was the missing gun.

  He didn’t fear the Garrison Leader. The man was a one-trick pony. He just rushed at you and used his ice blast skill. George clicked his tongue, forgetting the actual name of the ability. The only other group capable of challenging his squad was the Scout Leader’s team, but they had already bolted after witnessing Tony in action. Assuming they were trying to catch up to Tony, George doubted they would return soon.

  “All of you are coming with us,” said George, flashing a quick hand signal to his second-in-command and rolling his shoulders into a combat-ready stance, prompting a few of his men to join the intimidating display to prove to Sid that they had no choice but to comply.

  A melancholic smile touched Sid’s face. Completely ignoring George, he pulled a surprised Varun into a tight hug. The casual dismissal grated on George, making him swear to himself that he would make their entire team pay. Yet, the anger brewing in his chest flared into a raging inferno at what Sid did next.

  Sid reached behind his back and pulled out a gun, holding it up for all to see. George was right. It was his gun. Stolen by that bastard just the previous day. George’s first instinct was to lunge forward and snatch it back, but something rooted him to the spot. It was the way Sid held the firearm. The sheer comfort and familiarity in his grip didn’t belong to an amateur college student; he held it like a seasoned soldier.

  “Either I go alone, or we fight right here.” Sid lowered the weapon to his waist, keeping it leveled not at George, but at his second-in-command. “I know you have a Mana Shield, George, but that only buys you a few seconds.”

  George wanted to smash that serene expression off his face. He wanted to see Sid panic, or at least tense up. The arrogant fucker didn’t even seem worried that he was walking straight into a trap.

  A quick sideways glance revealed that over half of George’s team had retreated a step, and from the smug look plastered on Varun’s face, that moment of cowardice hadn’t escaped their enemies’ notice, either. Sid slipped the gun into his jacket pocket and tilted his head, holding George’s gaze. It was a silent ultimatum. What’s it going to be?

  George ruled by fear. His team stayed with him because they were far more afraid of him than they were hungry for the skill crystals he doled out from time to time, meaning every single person in that group would look out for themselves first. It was a strictly transactional relationship. Yes, they had agreed to fight. But nobody wanted to attack first. Nobody wanted to die in the counterattack.

  “Fine,” George relented. As long as the gun was with Sid, it was fine. He would just pry it from Sid’s cold, dead hands later. Dash and Mana Web weren’t valuable enough prizes to risk losing his shot at Sid’s Sixth Sense or Tony’s unique trait. He had intended to give those lesser skills to his underlings as rewards anyway. Now, none of them could blame him for withholding them, seeing as they had been too cowardly to make a move.

  Sid kept the gun in his jacket pocket and stepped forward, giving Varun a baseball-style pat on the rear. They exchanged a brief, loaded glance before Sid locked eyes with George. Shoving his hands back into his pockets, Sid tilted his head up. “Alright, lead the way. I don’t know where we’re going.”

  George hesitated. He didn’t want to lead the way, not when walking in front of Sid meant leaving himself open to a sudden attack. The guy’s unnatural confidence rattled him.

  “Don’t tell me you’re afraid.” The hint of surprise in Sid’s voice quickly melted into outright mockery. “Nine against one, and you’re still too scared to walk in front of me.”

  That forced George’s hand. He couldn’t walk behind Sid now without losing every ounce of respect from his squad. Before they had arrived at the camp, his teammates had been terrified of him; always walking on eggshells in fear of drawing his ire. Now things were different. They were still afraid, but the absolute terror had faded. They had grown careless with their words, and George had already caught several subtle jibes at his expense when they thought he wasn’t listening.

  “You don’t give the orders here, Sid. You’re in our custody, not the other way around. I’ve dealt with worse criminals than you.” George turned to his second-in-command. “You lead the way. I’ll walk beside him and make sure he doesn’t try any funny business.”

  His second-in-command nodded and headed away from the camp, keeping a slow pace so the rest of the men could fall in. The team formed a loose circle around Sid, while Varun dragged Rohan out of the way.

  George scoffed internally. Aditi had been so adamant about taking Rohan hostage, insisting that Sid cared for the guy. Yet Sid hadn’t even spared Rohan a single glance. That bitch was only good for her looks. She would pay for all the disrespect she had shown him; just as soon as George took Tony’s trait for himself.

  “You really want to walk so close to me?” Sid asked, sweeping his gaze across the nervous guards. “You don’t even know what my skills are.”

  Though George was almost certain it was an empty bluff, the threat worked. Every member of his squad subtly widened the circle, dropping back by at least a couple of steps. Since there was no tactical advantage in being the only one sticking close, George mirrored their retreat, although with a bit of reluctance, putting more distance between himself and their prisoner.

  They moved at a slow, deliberate pace, keeping Sid boxed inside their circular formation. Sid kept both hands tucked inside his jacket, likely hovering over the trigger. George itched to rough him up a bit—maybe land a sucker punch or a cheap kick while his back was turned—but every single time he prepared to strike, Sid’s piercing gaze snapped directly onto him, freezing George in his tracks. The rascal really had Sixth Sense. George couldn’t wait to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

  Suddenly, Sid halted, forcing the entire squad to stop to maintain their perimeter. He pivoted to face George head-on. “It’s the end of the road for you, Georgie.”

  Sid shifted his gaze from George to George’s second-in-command, holding the man’s stare. George was just wondering where Sid was getting this misplaced confidence from when a deafening gunshot shattered the silence. George whipped his head to the right just in time to see his second-in-command crumple to the ground, a fresh bullet hole drilled through his temple.