Free New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance by C.J. Carella Page B

Each student had been assigned two servants, one male, one female, a year or two younger than themselves. Those servants had served the students’ every need, from fixing meals to satisfying them sexually. They had been the only human contact he’d enjoyed, outside the other students and their taciturn and brutal instructors.
    The servants had become friends, confidants, lovers.
    On the final day of training, just before being granted the Sigils of Power that would turn the students into Celestial Warriors, he had been handed a long knife and given a final order: kill his servants. Some students had hesitated, and in doing so, failed the ultimate test. He had taken the knife and followed his orders. The last remnants of humanity and compassion had been bled out of him on that day, had died along with his dear companions.
    Chastity Baal woke up, the images of a life she’d never lived still flashing before her eyes.
    Sleep had become a chore this last fortnight. She’d unwillingly fallen asleep on the bullet train connecting Lutsk and Kiev; the false memories had ensured she gained precious little rest from it.
    She straightened up in her seat, aware of some odd-looking glances from her fellow passengers. At some point during the nightmare, she must have cried out, very likely in Mandarin. That was terrible fieldcraft, something she would have never normally done. Not since she’d been a child had she fallen asleep without wishing to do so.
    The soul she’d stolen via Daedalus Smith’s cursed dagger was slowly destroying her mind. The mysterious weapon had saved her life, but at a price she would have never willingly paid.
    Chastity looked at the scar on her right palm, where the dagger had burned her and left an indelible mark. Far from the first time, she considered getting rid of the weapon. Once again, she dismissed the idea. Alone in enemy territory, she would need every advantage she had.
    Yev’s story had added more pieces to the puzzle even as it provided more questions. His boss, the Neo smuggler known as Akula , the Shark, had been apprehended and forced to rejoin the Iron Guard he’d once served in. Much of his network had been rolled up, all in a frantic effort to capture one target: a young woman. By her description, she could very well be the mystery woman linked to Ultimate’s strange behavior in Chicago two weeks ago, a woman wanted by the US authorities as well as the Legion itself. Chastity had learned the hard way not to believe in coincidences. Her investigation had put her in the right place at the right time.
    She had come to the Dominion prepared for a deep infiltration mission. Contacts developed over decades of clandestine work served her well. After getting off the train at the busy Kiev station, she made her way to a bakery owned and staffed by a Russian family which had long done far more than serve food. A casually-mentioned code word had gained her passage into a room behind the store, where she was provided with a secure space to work in.
    Not many women served in the Galician Rifle Regiments, the elite units that guarded special facilities in the Dominion, but there were a few, and one of them was due to return from leave the next day. Chastity’s wrist-comp had hacked into the Dominion’s service records. Later that night she would pay a visit to the guard’s home. By the time somebody discovered the woman’s unconscious form, Chastity’s mission should be over.
    Her new, self-appointed mission was simple: infiltrate the facility where the prisoner was held, try to learn as much as she could about her, as well as any information linking Daedalus Smith to the Dominion operation, and escape.
    She was taking insane risks, operating with no Legion support and relying solely on her personal contacts, some of which involved the grandchildren of people she’d befriended over the decades. During her long and checkered career, Chastity had learned to trust her instincts and intuitions,