Daughter of Zeus ✔

21.3

As if in answer, a booming voice from the hallway said, "This is the State Authority. Surrender yourselves to us peaceably or be prepared to face lethal consequences."

"Great, we're all fucked because you had to rescue that douche bag," Ada whispered angrily.

Instead of panicking, Shylar continued packing in silence. Darcy whispered that she could take all the agents out easy, but Ada gestured for her to shut up. She asked Shylar what he was doing, and his answer was they would need everything they could take. There was no air of denial about him while he spoke or even while he kept throwing clothes and weapons into their bags. The Sammie made the same announcement for a second time, but Shylar didn't stop getting ready to leave.

"Is there a trapdoor in here I don't know about?" Ada murmured.

"I'll explain when they leave," he mouthed.

The man was crazy. When they left, the Sammies were taking all of them along for the auto-piloted ride. Ada leveled her pistol at the entrance again and waited. He shook his head.

"Due to no response, we are entering the premises. Prepare for lethal consequences, citizens!"

Heavy footsteps followed the warning. They sounded as if they were right inside the house, and she wasn't sure why she wasn't seeing any agents though she could hear them well enough. Next door, she realized. They're storming into the place next door.

Things crashed against the walls, pieces of furniture were tossed around, and more boots could be heard trampling in and out of the other townhome. After a minute, they heard the agents announce the building to be "all clear", and the footsteps receded. Ada expected an agent at their doorway, but no one came.

"They're leaving," Darcy said softly, still perched at the window.

Ada waited a few minutes before asking Shylar, "How did you know they wouldn't come in here?"

He slung three bags of luggage over his shoulder. "Because this house isn't registered in Kressick's name, but the one next door is."

"You mean to tell me those idiots are so bureaucratic they're not gonna check every townhome in this neighborhood simply because those homes aren't registered to the assailant?"

Shylar laughed. "People think the State is a lot more efficient and powerful than they actually are. If they were to go searching everyone's home, private citizens would be outraged. Atlanta may have stop-and-search laws and an exhaustive network of citizen surveillance, but it's a Tramp-haven when compared to other cities."

Ada's hometown of Aurora, Colorado was beautiful, but heavily militarized. The two cities were very different in comparison.

"Searching homes with a warrant, homes registered to the offender, that's a law the State couldn't get around here in Atlanta."

Moaning from the couch drew their attention. It was Moretz waking from his deep sleep. The drugs had left him disoriented, probably with a headache that part of which surely came from the bolt she slapped him with earlier.

Act like an asshole and asshole things are bound to follow you, Ada thought as she watched her father cradle his head. It was another one of her mother's saying and a fitting one for her father. He deserved to be in pain. She didn't care if his personality had been converted to mirror Mother Theresa—the man still had debts to pay.

She was thinking of the ways she could make Moretz pay while she watched Darcy bring him water and prop him comfortably. August's death had cured her of a lot, but not of her hate for her father. When he put his arms around Darcy for a feeble hug, Ada rushed to break them apart. Her second act was to strike him across the face. Darcy and Shylar were yelling, and Moretz stared at Ada with eyes that held little of his previous malice.

She looked him over. He seemed older. Lines etched across what had been smooth skin, gray streaks had replaced his black hair, and his dark complexion had waned to a wax parlor. She wondered how much of his personality change had contributed to his physical transformation. In a glance, she assessed Shylar. The insolent thief she met half a year before was an honest man, and his demeanor and dress screamed as much.

Moretz's appearance told the story of torture and abuse, but she sensed resilience and kindness beneath the bruises.