Rules of Redemption (The Firebird Chronicles, #1)

by T.A. White

"And the tijit?" he asked. "What does that mean?" "It's a rodent. Small, but filled with anger and unexpectedly vicious," Finn said.

When she used this ki, soul's breath, or whatever it was, she wielded it with none of the grace or subtlety exhibited by the Luatha below. Instead, it was like a volcano, scalding hot and destructive.

Oaths and honor defined their lives. Break one or step out of their pattern and you were thrown away. In a way, it reminded Kira of the code of bushido, the way of the samurai from feudal Japan. The samurai had understood being a warrior was about more than your prowess on the battlefield or how skilled you were with your sword. The measure of your worth was in the people you protected, and how you treated them and they you. They believed in honor, respect, courageous heroism, righteousness, benevolence; all markers she saw in the Tuann to some degree. A few things were different, but the underlying principles remained the same.

"Kira was hurt during the Falling," Jin said, referencing one of the biggest battles of the war, the one that had turned the tide. "She was in a coma for the last three years of the war. She only woke up about seven years ago. That’s when all this came out."

"Nope, not happening. Stay in bed," the dark-haired woman snapped, one hand landing on Kira's shoulder as she put pressure on it, forcing her into the bed. "You're barely healed." Kira tried shrugging the woman off. Unfortunately, the stranger wasn't inclined to let her. It resulted in an odd tussle where every touch or shove was gentle but firm. The woman's face had turned murderous by the time she finally trapped Kira in the bed by wrapping the blanket around her torso and tugging it tight before sitting on the ends. Every person in the room regarded the show with disbelief and no small amount of amusement.

"They won't hurt your friends," the woman said, standing. She watched Kira for signs of rebellion, relaxing when Kira stayed put. "I'm Shandry. I'm the one responsible for putting you back together. Try to show a little gratitude."

His sigh was heavy. At that moment he seemed like any other teen she'd encountered, the weight of the world on his shoulders as he dealt with stubborn adults.

Graydon growled, the sound raising the hair on Kira's neck. She blinked at him. Was he really growling at her? The sound continued. Yes, yes, he was. She gave him an exasperated look.

"What happened then?" "I lost." Ziva's eyes flashed up to meet Kira's. Kira nodded, considering and discarding several responses. "Well, that was dumb." Mutiny flashed across Ziva's face, her tiny body bunching as if she would leap for Kira's face. "It was not," she shouted. "I defended my family's honor." "Did you?" Kira asked. "Seems to me like you took exception with what someone said and then lost a challenge you issued. You look twice as stupid now." Kira straightened, dusting imaginary dirt off her pants. "I am not," Ziva shouted, her eyes pooling with tears and her lower lip beginning to tremble. "I was winning but then his friend threw a rock." "The weak tend to travel in packs," Kira agreed. "But you showed stupidity too. Picking the time and place for a fight is as important as training for it. You chose a time where he was at his strongest, surrounded by allies. Now he knows your weaknesses and he will come for you again." Bullies always did. They couldn't help themselves. They now knew what set Ziva off and they'd use the leverage whenever they wanted a boost for their confidence.

If he'd been a dog, his ears would have been pinned against his skull and his teeth bared.

"What are they doing?" he asked with a scowl. "Practicing," Kira said succinctly. "Practicing for what?" "The shitstorm that is life."

The children were like flowers in their care, blossoming under the men's instruction. Kira stayed in the background, her smile dying as loneliness surged up to grab hold. As much fun as flirting with Graydon was or watching the kids come into their own, this was temporary, she reminded herself. Soon she'd return to her ship and its isolation. Once she might have welcomed the reprieve it offered; now she found herself hesitating as Graydon, Finn, and the Curs made her crave things she hadn't allowed herself to think about in many years.

By the end of the war, she was a walking shell of her former self. Her light and humor gone, leaving nothing behind but a vicious animal—dangerous to everyone, including herself. Elise had been a Cur, her best friend, her sister, and the woman Raider loved more than life itself. Before she'd gone, she'd made Kira promise to survive, to live for all those who hadn't.

autocratic.

"This was a mistake," she said. For so many reasons that she couldn't afford to name. "One I fully intend to repeat again and again."

diaphanous

acerbically.

Oscar Mike."

"Keep your head on the swivel," she said. It was what they'd told each other every time they left on a mission. It was a reminder to stay alert and on task, and not take stupid risks. "Try to keep your powder dry." He gave her a small chin jerk before stepping through the doorway, his posture changing to wary alertness as he disappeared after the rest of the Curs.

Himoto had once called war ninety percent boredom so extreme you'd do anything for relief and ten percent sheer, unrelenting terror.

An eternity of agony lay before her as she faced the thought he was gone—forever beyond her grasp in the afterlife. Darkness yawned wide inside. The thin bindings keeping her monster from laying waste to everything and everyone threatened to snap. She forgot who she was, forgot the honorable person she fought to be. All she knew was rage and vengeance. The transformation tingled along her skin, pain biting deep as she struggled to contain it. Her blood heated and the urge to kill her enemies gnawed at her. The connection snapped into place. Kira could feel Jin again, hurt and scared, but alive. She took a deep breath and settled, physically shaking herself as she grabbed for the gossamer-thin tendrils of composure. When she opened her eyes again, her vision wasn't red-tinged and she no longer thirsted for destruction.

Warm lips pressed against hers, distracting her from the madness she was about to face. Tingles skated across her skin as the kiss ended almost before it began. He drew back from her, his gaze full of thunderclouds. He gave her a cocky smile. "To give you something to live for." "Arrogant man," Kira murmured. He winked at her. "Coli, live and I'll show you I'm worth every bit of my arrogance." "Hold onto that thought," Kira said as the light dropped to form a small doorway.

It wore Kira's shape, it had her face, but there were subtle differences. The pale creaminess of her skin was replaced by a dark gray. Violet symbols etched themselves across every exposed piece of skin, lines linking them in swooping patterns only the oldest of the ancients would be able to decipher. To the uneducated eye, some might have mistaken her for a female Tsavitee general, but Graydon knew her for what she really was. Primus. Precious and rare.