The Gender End Bella Forrest (best mystery novels of all time TXT) 📖

mine, obviously. I had found a storeroom filled with them, and figured they were the best formal option I was going to get in the time allotted. And there was some kind of significance to it, I supposed—given my complicated history with this uniform, maybe it was the best choice after all.

Smoothing the lapels down until I was confident they were regulation, I sat down on the narrow bed in the small private dorm room that was in the opposite wing of the building from where Violet and the women were, and began tugging on the knee-high, perfectly polished boots that completed the uniform. The boots were a bit tight, pinching in the toes, but I could endure them for a few hours.

The door clicked open and I looked up in time to see Owen ducking in, wearing a tight sweater and a pair of black slacks. His blue eyes widened as he realized he was the first in the room, and he hesitated, suddenly nervous.

I stood up, a smile already on my lips. “Owen,” I said warmly, holding a hand out to him as I crossed the room. He reached up automatically, and I caught his hand and squeezed, giving him a firm shake. “Thank you for coming. It really means a lot to me.”

“Oh, um, sure,” Owen stammered, a confused expression on his face. Confused and wary, like I was setting him up for some sort of trap.

I hated that he felt like that, but a part of that was his own fault. He had betrayed us all in his quest to end Desmond’s life. What’s worse, he had put Violet and her brother in danger while doing so. Violet had begged for us to forgive him instead of simply exiling him from our group, so we had punished him, giving him the task of being Violet’s bodyguard. Of course, that had been an impossible task to contend with, and ultimately he had failed to stay with her and keep her out of danger. But he’d certainly proven his loyalty in the attempt.

I could understand his nervousness. “Relax,” I told him. “It’s my wedding day, not yours.”

He smiled—just for a second, but it was there. That old light. I opened my mouth to add something, when the door swung open again, revealing… Anello Cruz. I suppressed a very noisy and very annoyed groan, and managed to plaster a bit of a smile onto my lips as he extended his hand, the bandages and sling that swaddled the arm he’d been shot in notwithstanding. I couldn’t completely hate the guy anymore. He’d fought bravely beside us at the water treatment plant, and his quick thinking had helped us get out of more than one tight situation—but he’d never gotten less irritating.

“Hey, Viggo, compadre! I heard about your wedding! Congratulations, my friend. Or should I say condolences, eh?”

He pumped my hand as he spoke, and I had to refrain from yanking it back, reminding myself that Cruz was just naturally a loud-mouthed, arrogant alpha male. This was really him trying to bond with me, but it didn’t make me want to punch him any less.

“You should say congratulations,” said Owen dryly. “And tone it down some. Viggo and Violet love each other dearly, so be happy for them or get out.”

Cruz blinked in surprise, and then smiled, finally releasing my hand. “Hey, no offense, mi amigos. I’m just not the ‘get married’ kind—although for that doctor lady I might make an exception.” He adjusted his sling, his smile growing bigger as his expression grew a bit dazed—likely envisioning that scenario—and I seized the opportunity to get to the other side of the room, hearing him ask Owen, “So what’d I miss at the meeting?”

Focusing on my appearance again, I gathered my long hair up behind my neck and wrapped a band around it, running a hand over the sides and top to smooth it out. Once I was finished, I ran a hand over my beard. It wasn’t too long, so it didn’t need trimming, but a part of me wondered if I should shave it off.

“You should keep it,” said Henrik’s voice, and I looked over in the mirror to see him closing the door to the hall. He met my gaze in the mirror and gave me a rueful smile. “I wish I could say that it’s because you looked better or that Violet likes it, but really it’s because we might need to rely on disguise to get into Matrus, and the beard helps with that.”

“That’s a good point,” I said, taking one final check in the mirror. “Anyone hear from Violet yet?”

“No, but I recently overheard Dr. Tierney saying she was running around like a madwoman, trying to set things up,” Owen commented, moving over to the bed and sitting down on it, the springs squeaking under his weight. “Amber too.”

“Great,” I said, fiddling with the uniform in an attempt to try to perfect it, even though it was as close to perfect as it was ever going to be.

Henrik came over and gently pushed my hands away, his eyes taking in the uniform and then tugging a few things here and there. “It’s too bad you don’t have any insignia here,” he said as he brushed off my shoulders. “It would really complete the look.”

“I’m glad there aren’t any,” I said quietly, and he looked up at me in surprise. “That life feels like forever ago… like part of a terrible dream I was half-stumbling through. Violet didn’t fall in love with a warden. She fell in love with me.”

Henrik smiled gently, and nodded. “She’s a good woman, Viggo. And soon she’ll be your wife, for as long as you both shall live. I’m excited for you both to be getting this start now, instead of waiting. You both need it after everything—”

Henrik’s continuing words of reassurance disappeared behind the strange ringing that had started in my ears when he said “for as long as