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Back Rapture
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. 1.
  5. 2.
  6. 3.
  7. 4.
  8. 5.
  9. 6.
  10. 7.
  11. 8.
  12. 9.
  13. 10.
  14. 11.
  15. 12.
  16. 13.
  17. 14.
  18. 15.
  19. 16.
  20. 17.
  21. 18.
  22. 19.
  23. 20.
  24. 21.
  25. 22.
  26. 23.
  27. 24.
  28. 25.
  29. 26.
  30. 27.
  31. 28.
  32. 29.
  33. 30.
  34. 31.
  35. 32.
  36. 33.
  37. 34.
  38. 35.
  39. 36.
  40. 37.
  41. 38.
  42. 39.
  43. 40.
  44. 41.
  45. 42.
  46. 43.
  47. 44.
  48. 45.
  49. 46.
  50. 47.
  51. 48.
  52. 49.
  53. 50.
  54. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  55. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“Something like that. One more thing. She will not show herself easily. You will have to root her out. Exploit those with an interest in her—and those she has an interest in. They may not be trustworthy, but they will be skilled. Can you kill her?”

“You know why I’m here?”

Some emotion passed over the bel dame’s face. Something like dread or fear. Finally. “Of course. Everyone knows why you’re here.”

“Everyone who remembers.”

“Yes. Though all the ones who were there when you did it are good and dead now. Only you mutants live on.”

“Then you know what I can do.”

“Good,” the bel dame said.

“I have a name,” she said.

The bel dame regarded her. The Plague Sisters were tense. One of them stepped forward, fast, and plunged a syringe into her thigh. The bloody thing bit into her, and blinked up at her dumbly. She hated live syringes.

“I have a name,” she repeated as the gray haze covered her mind again, dampened the world.

“You do,” the bel dame murmured. “But no one out there remembers it. Praise be to God.”

9.

Nyx did not go back to Mercia’s that night. She made a few calls and got drunk on cheap whiskey at a bar with a name she couldn’t pronounce, and slept it off in a gutter somewhere. She woke to find a grizzled war vet trying to steal her sword. She ran him through with it and left him wailing there in the street as she stumbled off to find a cheap room for the night.

She needed to put together a team. But it had to be a team of strangers, people she could run through as easily as she had that war vet. Everyone was in danger, now. Everything was on the line. Fatima promised that more information about Raine’s whereabouts would be forthcoming. She was going to need the whole scenario—where he disappeared from, who last saw him.

In the morning, she cleaned her weapons and herself and rented a storefront from a venom dealer in one of the less pristine parts of Amtullah, close to a rank of rickshaws and makeshift Ras Tiegan eateries. Most war vets developed a taste for curry at the front. Ras Tiegan expatriates living in Chenja always did well during skirmishes when the border switched. Both sides ate their food, and harbored little animosity for them as a people. Nyx knew it would be a good place to find men and women who knew how to shoot straight.