Silver Elite

by Dani Francis

I grew up in pure, unceasing, suffocating darkness.

“You’re such a gentleman.” “No. I’m really fucking not.”

Uncle Jim told me only the most powerful Mods bear a mark, and that he’d never known a marked Mod to possess any less than three abilities. I have four myself. That I know of, anyway. Perhaps there’s a fifth or sixth or seventh lying dormant inside me, waiting to be unleashed at the most inconvenient of times. But another one would’ve manifested by now. I think. I hope.

This is so interesting to learn. I thought, up until this point, that all mods would have a blood mark.

“No. I was playing a part. I was picturing Jordan from Copper the entire time.” He growls out a noise. Ire-tinged exasperation. But it’s quickly replaced by an arrogant smirk. “Too bad you won’t be able to see him anymore.” I narrow my eyes. “You didn’t hear? Jordan was dispatched on a last-minute assignment. Headed for Red Post. Who knows when he’ll return. The post could last months. Years, even.” My jaw drops. “You sent him away?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because he touched you this morning.”

“I kind of see why he likes you.” “He more than likes me. He’s obsessed.”

“So we went to a bar in the city. Pounded synth whiskey until we were both good and boozed. When I asked him why he was dropping Ivy, he got this really serious look on his face and then said, Because she’s not the girl of my dreams. And I laughed and said, Okay, then who is?” “What did he say?” “He said the girl of his dreams loves daisies.”