Cress

“Ship needs a pilot,” said Jacin, nodding toward the front of the ship, where the cockpit windows were glinting almost blindingly bright in the sun. “It’s time you learned how to fly it yourself.”

“But … aren’t you my new pilot?”

He smirked. “In case you haven’t noticed, people tend to get killed around you. I don’t think that’s a trend that’s bound to stop any time soon.”

A boy a few years younger than Cinder ran up to offer her a bottle of water, but Jacin took it out of his hand before Cinder could and took a few long drafts. Cinder would have been annoyed, if his words—at once so practical and so painful—weren’t keeping her from feeling anything other than shock.

“I’ll start teaching you the basics after we eat,” he said, passing the bottle to her. Cinder took it numbly. “Don’t worry. It’s not as hard as it looks.”

“Fine.” Cinder finished off the water. “It’s not like I’m busy trying to prevent a full-scale war or anything.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” He eyed her suspiciously. “Here I thought we were painting a spaceship.”

A comm pinged in the corner of Cinder’s vision. From Dr. Erland. She tensed, but the comm was only two tiny words that made her entire world start spinning again. “He’s awake,” she said, mostly to herself. “Wolf is awake.”

Turning away from the ship and lingering townsfolk, Cinder thrust the empty water bottle into Jacin’s stomach and took off running toward the hotel.

Wolf was sitting up when Cinder burst into the hotel room. His feet were bare, his torso still covered in bandages. He didn’t look at all surprised to see Cinder, but then, he would have heard her pounding up the old wooden stairs. Probably smelled her too.

“Wolf! Thank the stars. We were so worried. How do you feel?”

His eyes, duller than usual, flickered past her toward the hallway. He frowned, like he was confused.

A second later, Cinder heard footsteps and turned just as Dr. Erland brushed past her, carrying a medical kit.

“He is still under heavy painkillers,” said the doctor. “Try not to ask too many confusing questions, if you would.”

Gulping, Cinder followed the doctor to Wolf’s side.

“What happened?” said Wolf, his words barely slurred. He sounded exhausted.

“We were attacked by a thaumaturge,” said Cinder. Part of her felt like she should take Wolf’s hand, but the most intimate contact she’d ever had with him before was the occasional friendly punch to the jaw. It wouldn’t have felt natural, so instead she stood just within arm’s reach, her hands fisted in her pockets. “You were shot. We didn’t know … but you’re all right. He’s all right, isn’t he, doctor?”

Erland flashed a light past Wolf’s eyes. Wolf flinched back.

“He is better than I would have expected,” he said. “It seems you’re on target to make a full recovery, so long as you can avoid re-opening your wounds in the meantime.”

“We’re on Earth,” said Cinder, not sure if that was obvious to Wolf or not. “In Africa. We’re safe here, for now.”

But Wolf seemed distracted and upset as he tilted his head back and sniffed. His frown deepened. “Where’s Scarlet?”

Cinder grimaced. She had known the question would be coming. She had known that she wouldn’t know how to answer when it did.

His expression darkened. “I can’t smell her. Like she hasn’t been here in … like she isn’t here.”

Dr. Erland pressed a thermometer against Wolf’s brow, but Wolf snatched it away before it could gauge his temperature. “Where is she?”

Miffed, the doctor fisted his hand on his waist. “Now that is precisely the type of jerky movement you should be avoiding.”

Wolf snarled, showing his sharp teeth.

“She’s not here,” said Cinder, forcing herself not to shrink away when Wolf turned his glare on her. She struggled to form an explanation. “The thaumaturge took her. During the fight on the ship. She was alive—I don’t think she was even injured. But the thaumaturge took her aboard the podship. Jacin thinks she needed Scarlet to pilot it.”

Wolf’s jaw went slack. With terror, with denial. He jerked his head, no.

“Wolf…”

“How long? How long ago…?”

She scrunched her shoulders against her neck. “Five days.”

He grimaced and turned away, his face contorting with pain that had nothing to do with his wounds.

Cinder took half a step toward him, but paused. There were no words that would mean anything to him. No explanation, no apology.

So she braced herself for Wolf’s anger instead. She expected fury and destruction. His pupils had narrowed to pinpricks and his fists started to flex. Though Cinder had practiced her mind control sporadically on Jacin and the doctor since they’d arrived in Farafrah, it would be a true test of her abilities if Wolf lost control.

And she could sense it brimming inside him. Fear burning and roiling. Panic writhing inside his chest. The animal straining to be unleashed inside the man.