Legacy of the Brightwash (Tainted Dominion, #1)

by Krystle Matar

It’s a rough world out there, and it’s a rough world in here. Here’s to trying to muddle through it all and finding love in the darkness.

Take care of yourself. Even if that means skipping this book.

Fighting was almost better than this, because at least when they were fighting,

rage and frustration filled all the hollow places in him and left no room for the shame.

follow the law and you’ll stay safe.

Her old self might have pointed out that submitting to the Authority meant a lifetime of intrusion, a lifetime of people she didn’t know stepping into her home whenever they wanted with the capability to destroy her life with nothing but their word.

She wished for a moment she could give it back to him, this thing that she had taken, that she could fold his emotions back into his chest so he could feel that they had never been exposed at all.

Better to be lonely and feel the sharp edges of it, she thought, than to be empty and filled with nothing.

“This is the anise spirit I mentioned. The bitterness pairs well with rich people talking about how they spend and make money.”

Wolfe shook his head, fingers digging hard into his thigh. “I say it’s none of my business who warms Illea’s bed because I truly, genuinely hope that you will stop telling me the details.” “I would try, General, but Miss Winter passes a lot of politics through her bed, and you asked me to come home to help with politics.”

“Sweet heaven, is there anything you won’t complain about, Blackwood?” Duskan huffed. “Was it a great trauma for you, then? Must be because you couldn’t keep up with her.” Tashué laughed, but it was a short and bitter sound, all the anger bubbling in his chest anew. “Judging from what I’ve heard at the station house, the only one here unable to keep up with women is you. Disappointing Duskan, they call you.” Beckett laughed, too, sharp and fast, and then he clamped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. Happens to the best of us.”

“Things that used to be clear and important to me seem like small things these days.”

Do what you’re told. Follow the laws. Except it wasn’t Follow the laws and you’ll be safe, like his grandmother apparently thought. It was Nothing you do will ever keep you safe, but follow the laws anyway.

Stella knew enough about loss and grief to know that you never really recovered, so much as you learnt to go on living even though you were falling apart.

“My people call it shameful to take a knife to bread. It’s entirely too violent for something so sacred. My people break bread with their hands, and share it with their hearts.”

Some loyalties ran too deep, some rightness superseded the rigid structures of the law.

“Of course everyone remembers,” Ishmael said brightly. “Captain Blackwood has certainly been the most memorable of dinner guests, especially since he missed so much of dinner.”

Where had his life taken him that he was starting to hate the man in charge of the organization he thought he believed in?

Firstly, you are Regulation Officers, trusted by the Dominion entire to protect them from the tainted. And secondly, you stand as an example for the police force to come, as something to emulate for the next wave of courageous men and women who are willing to take up the fight against crime and violence in this city, in this province and eventually, in the Dominion entire.”

Forcing a man like Moore into madness rather than giving him an opportunity to save himself from the Wrath.

“One who sees,” Rhodrishi said. “It’s usually paired with the word for ‘past the horizon’, which then comes to mean One who sees what is hidden.”

it’s always been in the Authority’s best interest to reduce people with Talent to singular tools, to be used and discarded to serve the Dominion.”

“Ah, a visitation to the Breeding Program. It can be rather hard to get past those walls, but of course you understand; it’s important to keep close eye on who is coming and going. Can’t have any accidental breedings, can we?”

“I heard you fought the fire for three days, Mr. Blackwood.” “I did. What were you doing for those three days? Was it important?”

“Struggling as a parent doesn’t make you a bad father,” Stella said. “If struggling was the only bar, I don’t think anyone could call themselves a good parent.”

He tucked the blanket back into place, up around her cheek, resisting the urge to slide his fingers through her hair. He’d tried that a few times already and it wasn’t as he imagined. His fingers got trapped in hidden tangles and it was some challenge to get them out without hurting her.

What world did he live in that women like Stella and his mother were reduced to such ugly words by men who saw them as tools to serve them and their needs?

“If ever you’d like to take a pint and commiserate about stubborn children, you come find me,” Božic said. “Helps, doesn’t it? To commiserate.”

Follow the law and you’ll stay safe. I’m sorry, Mother. What good is being safe if the law is so wrong?