He looked at the keys, then at her, questions forming behind his eyes. He didn't ask them.
"I'll be back for it," she said.
She didn't look back as she walked down the corridor, her footsteps echoing against the linoleum.
Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. She pulled out the white card Morgan had given her and stared at the phone number.
Then she typed a message.
I'm ready.
The reply came within seconds.
Car will be there in thirty minutes.
She found a bench near the pickup zone and sat down to wait.
CHAPTER 12
The summons came while Makrath was in the training pits.
He had been running combat drills for hours, blade work, grappling, evasion patterns that pushed his reflexes to their limit. His muscles burned with the kind of fatigue that usually brought clarity.
The clarity refused to come.
The restlessness was still there, coiled beneath his ribs like a predator waiting to strike. He had felt it growing worse since Central Station, since the ambush, since the civilian had died beneath his hands. The violence had helped, briefly. But the relief had faded, and the pressure had returned, sharper than before.
He needed release.
The messenger approached cautiously, stopping well outside striking distance. Smart. Makrath's reputation preceded him, and only fools came too close without invitation.
"Kha'Ruun." The messenger inclined his head, eyes averted. "The High Arbiter requests your presence. Immediately."
Makrath stilled, his blade hovering mid-arc. Zhoren did not summon warriors lightly, not even warriors of his rank.
He sheathed his weapon and followed without a word.
The High Arbiter's chambers opened onto the jungle beyond, shielded only by a transparent barrier that allowed sound and scent to bleed through. Somewhere below, a river thundered through rock and root. Heat rolled in slow waves. The world lived beyond the law's reach.
Zhoren stood near the barrier, his deep grey skin lined by age and responsibility. His silver eyes were calm, calmer than Makrath had expected, and his long black-green hair was drawn back into a low tail that brushed his shoulders as he turned.
"Kha'Ruun," Zhoren said. "Thank you for coming."
Makrath stopped three paces inside the threshold. Courtesy from the High Arbiter meant something significant was about to follow.
"A female has been found," Zhoren said.
The words landed in the chamber like a stone dropped into still water.
Makrath's entire body locked. His length stirred behind its sheath, unbidden, responding to the possibility before his conscious mind had even processed the words. Heat bloomed low in his belly. His claws extended a fraction before he caught himself.
A female. After all this time. A female.
"Human," Zhoren continued. "From the planet called Earth. She has passed the initial screening and agreed to training."
Human. The word rolled through his mind, foreign and strange. He knew of the species, fragile, short-lived, confined to a single world until recently. He had encountered none. The thought of one as a bond-mate had never crossed his mind.
"You will be permitted to observe her during her training," Zhoren said. "This is your right, as the male. You will watch. You will assess. And you will decide if she is worthy to hunt you."
