Dangerous.So dangerous... he doesn’t believe he’ll come back.
Chapter Nine
Zeb
We sweep the building amid smoke, screams, blood splatters, and the casualties of war. None of them are ours yet, but it’s not a given that it will stay that way, and the fight is far from over. Hemmed in and surrounded on all sides, like any cornered rats, they’re not going down without a fight.
The fake business above is a vast warehouse with rows and rows of parts. Too many places for them to hide. None of our prisoners are going to be up here. There would be too much risk that they might escape. They’re going to be deep underground, where Jenda still is—we hope.
We use grenades and mop up whatever is left.
Two of their ships have already taken off, but they were likely decoys, testing us to see how well we had secured the facility. Jenda is too valuable. She won’t be risked without a clear exit plan.
Our communicators flare to life.“The enemy has launched a ground assault.”
There it is: her exit plan. It’s about to get hot.
The power’s been cut, and the elevators are out, so it’s just dark stone stairs leading us down that we take at a run, stopping to deal with the occasional pockets of resistance where they’ve left disposable grunts to slow us down.
As we reach the first cells and the labs, it’s time for me to get ahead of the curve. I give Ethan a nod and break away from the team. Finding the access to the air shaft marked on my visor display, I set a small explosive.
The door pops, and I slip inside.“I’m through,”I say for Ethan’s ears only.“Going dark.”
His confirmation comes through.
A button on my armor turns it from Empire black to Uncorrupted gray. The helmet is a giveaway, so is my weapon. I ditch both.
Then I climb, forcing oxygen and energy into muscles at an accelerated rate no other human could match.
Esme
They carry me to one of the curtained cubicles and lay me down.
Someone is speaking. I hear my name and feel a hand brushing the hair from my face.
“Shock,” someone murmurs. “She’s crashing. We need to get something into her, fast.”
I struggle weakly. “No… I’m fine. I’m fine!” They think I’ve overexerted myself, too much healing, too much trauma. Only it’s not the healing, nor is it the kind of trauma they believe it is.
No one listens.
The hiss of a drug dispenser wakes up my mind to the danger and the intentions of those around me—they’re going to sedateme. While it’s unlikely to be strong enough to knock me out, it will be enough to keep me pliant and manageable.
Out of the way as they deal with the real emergencies, and not a helpless healer.
It’ll go on my report, I realize distantly as I struggle. I’ll be marked as a liability, taken out of rotation, and shunted out somewhere out of the way. Maybe mated off to a wealthy civilian alpha, because that is what happens to healers when they’re no use in the war. Someone I don’t know… someone I don’t love.
“No!” I sit up too fast, sway, and catch myself on the edge of the medical cot.
The healer frowns, her hand hovering near my arm, the dispenser waiting to administer the drug. “I can’t help you with this.” Her tone is disapproving. Dealing with me is taking her away from people with real needs. “You need rest. You’re overextended. You’re in no condition?—”
“I said I’m fine,” I snap. It must get through enough to make her hesitate. “It wasn’t the healing. It was…” I need to be careful not to say too much. “My controller had an injury. It’s minor, but it just shocked me, that’s all.”
“What is he doing in the field? Her brows pull together in a frown. “Your kind is too sensitive. We can’t have you distracted.”
Her words carry a hint of disdain. That she is at least five years younger than me only adds to the slight. I force myself upright and push off the cot. She’s right, I’m too sensitive, only not in the way she thinks.
My feet hit the ground, and I only wobble a little. “See? I’m okay.” I paste on a shaky smile. “I’ll take a moment and come out to help.”
