She pressed her hand against his chest to stop him. “It’s okay,” she murmured, staring—wide-eyed, but not afraid. In awe.
A small smile curved her lips as she slid her hand down to grasp his.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “They’re here to help.”
Nikos wondered when the world got so crazy—and knew it was the minute he had set eyes on Kiki. This wild, wonderful,gifted,woman had shredded everything he thought he knew about the world—and he wouldn’t change a thing.
As he studied the three men who had stepped through some kind of futuristic gateway, he knew with gut-deep certainty—that whatever was coming, whatever battle lay ahead—they weren’t alone.
They had each other.
They had hope.
And they had something the Founders couldn’t anticipate—help from another world!
Nineteen
The older-model white Ford SUV ticked quietly its engine cooled, its faint metallic clicks swallowed by the sweeping stillness of the woods. Eric opened the driver’s door and stepped out, his polished shoes sinking half an inch into damp sand that made up the narrow parking area.
A light north wind rolled down from the mountains, teasing the hem of his wool overcoat and carrying with it the scents of cold water and cedar bark.
He inhaled deeply.
Silence. Real silence—no machines humming, no monitors blinking, no muffled voices in the next room. It pressed against his skin like a living entity.
He walked toward the lake, each step sending small crunches through the deserted cove. The air tasted sweet, clean, as if unaware of the danger that was about to disturb the fragile peace.
The lake stretched before him, still and black as obsidian, polished to impossible perfection. The late fall sun and the shadows of skeletal trees bent toward the water’s edge.
Across the lake, barely visible between towering pines, lay the cabin.
Angel Vaziri’s fortress. Nikos Aeto’s sanctuary.
Kiki’s refuge.
And if fortune was on his side, the beginning of the end for the Founders.
A faint, sardonic smile curved Eric’s lips.
Of course, Benoit would come here. The man’s need for control was a sickness, a gnawing hunger that refused to be satisfied. To Benoit, Kiki wasn’t a person—she was a resource who had slipped out of his grasp. And resources had to be recovered or annihilated.
If Benoit succeeded today, Eric knew exactly what awaited him.
Chains disguised as purpose.
Obedience disguised as loyalty.
A lifetime of captivity disguised as a mission.
Or worse… death.
In many ways, death would be kinder.
He slipped one hand from his pocket, his fingers brushing the bandage at his neck. The cut throbbed sharply where he’d removed the explosive capsule. His fingertips came away streaked with red.
He studied the blood.
Worth it.
