Wearing the Cape 5: Ronin Games Read Online Free Page B

house.
     
    Being only one year shy of being able to legally drink meant that my parents didn’t wait up for me anymore. No, they just waited patiently for me in the morning after nights when I came home; thumping down the stairs in t-shirt and shorts—I’d be flying out later but I never wore the uniform at home—I gave them a smile that felt real because it was. Eggs, sausage, toast, fruit, orange juice and coffee, Mom’s start-the-day breakfast never changed and just the smells made my morning good.
     
    I came home for the breakfasts, really.
     
    Okay, that and to reassure my family that I was alive and well.
     
    Dad looked me over before I got to the table, frowning at the white bandage wrapping my left calf. After a night to heal I’d had high-school sports injuries that felt worse and I didn’t really need the bandage, but the skin beneath it still presented an ugly mottled red and white.
     
    He folded up his paper. “Good morning, daughter.”
     
    “Good morning, father.” I slid into the chair beside him with a quick passing kiss. Mom took the cover off my eggs, nudging the toast plate towards me.
     
    “And how are you feeling?” I hadn’t been limping, but he knew that didn’t mean anything since I could have walked across the kitchen carrying as much weight as the old floors could stand; I would never limp under my own negligible weight.
     
    “Singed. A bit like Mom’s toast.” I snagged two slices and reached for the jam. I didn’t say anything stupid like I was never in any real danger . They wouldn’t buy it, and then they’d never believe me when I said it and actually meant it.
     
    “I’m sure that you were careful,” Mom observed, scooping a knife full of strawberry jam and moving the jar where I could reach it.
     
    “Shell would yell at me and then Lei Zi would rip my head off and ground me to the Dome for retraining if I wasn’t.”
     
    Dad choked on his toast. “ Shell would?”
     
    “She says being a quantum-ghost means she has a decent chance of outliving the solar system, so she wants to make sure I do too—” Wincing on the last word, I crunched on my own toast and tried to pretend I hadn’t said it. “Anyway, it was the kind of fight Atlas liked. They never saw us coming, and we had them outnumbered three to one.”
     
    Mom cooperated with my change of subject; it wasn’t like we could brainstorm a solution to my “problem” anyway. I’d had plenty of time to think about it since Doctor Beth had confirmed last month that, based on nearly two years of observation and measurement, I wasn’t aging anymore. Not a big surprise, stronger Atlas-Types just didn’t, but I was also the youngest known Atlas-Type and we’d been hoping that I would age—or at least continue to physically mature into fully developed adulthood before I stopped.
     
    Nope. I hadn’t been doing much of that before my breakthrough, and I was doing zip now. If I didn’t die hard I was going to outlive almost everybody I knew, and I was devochka moya for life .
     
    Just…yeah, no words.
     
    “So, what are your plans today?” Mom asked.
     
    “The usual after-action stuff. I get to review and submit my action report. We did the team review yesterday, so we get our one-on-ones this morning. Quin wants to get some public relations pictures of us with Svyatogor before he goes back home. I get a sparring match with him before he goes.”
     
    And then I slip away to California.
     
    “Are you up to it, dear?”
     
    “Sparring, yeah. Doctor Beth has to clear me for duty before I go back into the field, though. Even to just patrol.” I let them assume it was about the leg, or the hard hit they had to have seen last night, and the toast tasted way too dry in my mouth. Seeing them relax a little made me feel worse.
     
    I’d thought this would get easier for them, and it didn’t look like it was ever going to. Swallowing, I smiled.
     
    “So, what are you guys