Read Octavia's War for Free Online Page B

something between the two of you? I mean, before?”
    Bear— Remmy , she corrected herself harshly—shook his head. “Just the potential, that was all. I had my attention taken up by other things.”
    “Like Octavia,” Ángel said softly.
    Remmy gave him a small smile. “As I said.”
    Octavia’s heart squeezed and began to hurt. It was working too hard and all the tequila she had swallowed wasn’t helping. “You’re not talking about being my handler, are you?”
    Remmy drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Nope,” he said, just as softly.
    She stared at him. “You never said anything….”
    “It wouldn’t have been right,” he replied. “You were already depending on me to keep you safe and take care of your rear. Anything else would have been an imposition, under the circumstances.”
    She marveled. All the times she had laid restless in her bed, wondering what it would be like to be held by him, to have him lying over her, then had risen the next day, determined to get her job done and not get dead…. “Wow, does anyone have anything else to confess?” she asked. Her voice was hoarse, scratched by the tequila and stress.
    Remmy got to his feet. “Confession time might have to wait. We shouldn’t stay here. This house belongs to one of Garcia’s men and Severo might think to look here.”
    “I thought you said it was the vampeen things that were chasing us?” Octavia said.
    “Them, too,” Ángel said.
    “As well ?” Octavia blew out her breath. “I’m going to go and see if I can find something better to wear than these whore clothes.”
    “Take blankets, too,” Ángel said, making her eyes roll.
    She moved through the upstairs level of the house, looking in all the rooms for anything useful. They were empty, neat and clean and she found nothing until she came to one of the smaller ones. Death metal posters were pinned to the walls and there was an X-Box next to the computer on the desk, a football in the corner of the room and a green and gold León football team scarf hanging over the window.
    There was a pair of hiking boots parked under the bed, the ankle-high leather lifting the edge of the black bed cover.
    Octavia tried them on. They were perhaps a size too big, so she hunted for a pair of socks and found a drawer of them, all neatly rolled.
    There was a denim jacket in the closet that was too broad across the shoulders and too tight around the hips, but it met in the middle and would keep her warm. There was also a drawer full of tank tops and tee-shirts. She sorted through them and found a solid black tank top. Gratefully, she dumped all the jewelry onto the desk next to the X-Box, including the rings on her fingers and the bracelets up her arm. All of it, except for the crucifix that rested beneath all the chains and medallions. It wasn’t much, but the owners of this place could sell it and regain some value for what she was going to take.
    She changed the chiffon top for the black stretch one, then picked up the jacket. As she was leaving the room, she noticed a backpack in the corner, with black marker lettering and doodles all over it.
    She grabbed that, too. It was empty, judging by the lightness of it.
    Ángel was in the master bedroom, standing on the bed, his weight making the thing sag. He had the picture over the top of the bed swung to one side.
    Octavia looked at the combination wheel of the safe he had his hand on. “Don’t tell me you know how to crack one?”
    “I thought I would try it. I can hear it turning. Listen.” He turned the wheel, very slowly.
    Octavia smiled. “You don’t even have your ear to it.”
    “I don’t have to. It’s like birds chittering. I can hear everything.” He gave the wheel one more nudge and let it go. He stared at it.
    “Giving up?” she asked.
    “It’s open,” he said, sounding shocked. He tugged on the handle and the safe door swung open. There was a narrow deposit-box sized space behind and he put his hand into it.