Inara
A scream buildsin my gut, only to die in my throat. My captor and I fly through the air, zooming over the cases and platforms. My robe flutters around my bare legs, and my limbs dangle, small and frail compared to the heavily armored figure holding me.
My captor lands with a thud that jars me. He lets me go, and I try to run, only to flail to a stop. My options are to leap off the platform or stand and face him. I turn and face the shadows.
He’s gone.
“Hello,” I call in a quavering whisper. He’s so quickly become one with the shadows. If I couldn’t sense Rex’s aura, his darkness, I’d think no one was there.
The suited figure reappears, his form coalescing out of nothing. I startle. He’s much closer to me, only a foot away. I lock my knees so I don’t collapse at his feet.
The figure facing me is familiar, if only because I’ve seen him on the grainy video from outside the Martin Building. The suit matches the one in the case, from the black, protective carapace covering his chest to the heavy combat boots. The suit adds bulk to his frame but is sleeker than military armor. Sleek and black—meant to blend in the shadows. His eyes are covered with a protective helmet that leaves the lower half of his face bare. As I stare up at him, the matte black glass retracts, leaving me facing the man I know.
Except the past few minutes have proven I don’t know him. At all.
His body armor is even more intimidating up close. His arms are lined with gauntlets. Around his waist is a thick metal utility belt lined with slim canisters and pouches for weapons, and his hands are protected by thick Kevlar gloves.
I swallow, imagining the night he wore gloves to touch me. I wondered then how he had them handy, and now I know.
He lets me look my fill. “You found the center of my operations.” His voice is the barest murmur.
“Is that what this is?” My panic-laced retort echoes throughout the cave.
He tilts his head. “Hamish calls it my lair. What would you call it?”
“Evidence.”
He raises his brows. “Evidence of what?”
“Your madness. Your obsession.” I gesture to the suit, the platform, the screens. “Take your pick.”
“Oh, it’s not my obsession. My compulsion, perhaps. No.” He glances up at the screens reflecting our faces back to us. “You already found my obsession.”
It takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. “The journals.”
“Yes.” He stalks forward, and I back away without thinking. “You were snooping, weren’t you? Trying to spy on me?”
I shake my head, but he’s inside my thoughts.
“Trying to find evidence of my crimes?” He keeps advancing, his gloved fists clenching.
It’s too much. Something in me snaps, a primal instinct to flee. I scramble backward, everything in me screamingGet away!
“Stop,” he commands, but my legs don’t listen. I slam into a console and duck behind it, dashing away before I realize there’s no more platform. I screech to a stop, but I’m overbalanced.
“No!” he shouts, too late. I’m falling into the abyss.
* * *
Rex
She teeterson the edge and drops. The moment seems to last hours but only takes half a second.
Fortunately, I’ve trained for this. My reflexes snap into play. I shoot a cable out of my forearm gauntlets and dive after her.
Inara’s eyes are wide and unseeing. The white robe flutters around her naked body. I clamp my free arm around her and feel the cable catch with the other as I swing us to a free platform.
The second I touch down, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to an offshoot of Command Center and a table-like surface I use to lay analog maps and other ancient documents on the city Hamish digs up.
