“Definitely and remotely,” Chalton said. “I need techs in there to tell you more, but somebody wanted you dead. I’ll be in touch.” He ended the call.
Garrett slid his phone back into his pocket.
Sam wiped blood off his neck. “If somebody aimed those missiles…”
“They wanted Destiny dead as well,” Garrett finished for him.
Logan rolled his neck and flexed his hand, which had scrapes down each finger. “If whoever programmed her wants her dead, she’s not working with them.”
Sam winced. “Or they’re afraid she’ll break and want her taken out before she can give them up.”
“She can’t be that good,” Garrett murmured, his temper and his intellect battling for dominance. Even if she were, she was his mate, and he’d deal with the situation. But his gut told him she was innocent. “Nobody is that good a liar.”
Sam looked at his brother and then back. “Exactly.” He held up a hand before Garrett could protest. “I’m going with your gut on this one, brother. But a petite, wide-eyed, fragile-looking human would make the absolute perfect assassin against one of us. Your guard was way down, and she nearly took off your head. I hate to even think it, but what if she has more surprises up her sleeve?”
“Like what? We took her knife. She’s human, with no extra strength or speed. Even if sheknowsa thousand ways to kill me, she can’t do it.” His leg finally snapped back into alignment, and his skin stitched itself together painfully. “I have to go with my gut, like you said. Destiny is an innocent, and we need to figure out what happened to her.” Now that he’d made the decision, his shoulders finally relaxed.
Logan shook soot out of his dark hair. “Do we have any experts in programming or hypnotism?”
“I have no idea,” Garrett admitted. “We have a couple of psychics in the family, but they didn’t see this coming.” He didn’t want his sister or his niece involved, anyway. Not with an enemy who could turn a human into a killer and then later fire missiles to kill her. “What are the chances the dragons are behind this?” He wished they knew more about the elusive shifters.
“I bet 70 to 30 it’s the Kurjans rather than the dragons,” Logan drawled. “Although this technology should be beyond the Kurjans.”
Sam tore off his ripped shirt and started to heal the wounds on his chest. “Doesn’t mean they didn’t steal it.” He grimaced as his skin stitched back together. “I’m with Logan, G. If your gut is saying to trust her, then I do.”
Garrett forced himself to think the entire matter through. “She’s innocent, but that doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous. We don’t know what’s in her head. The Seven might not be her only targets.” Plenty of enemies wanted his sister and his niece both dead, too. “We can’t let our guard down around her.” Not until he figured out who’d trained her to kill.
In the meantime, like it or not, he was locking her down.
* * * *
Dessie hunkered down in the surprisingly soft bed after finger-combing her long hair into some sort of order. The shower had been small but warm, and with the storm beating at the windows, a sense of safety cocooned her for a brief moment. Though somebody had tried to kill her with missiles, her eyelids were so heavy.
Garrett was out patrolling, and she worried her bottom lip. He’d been injured and in pain, but he’d still headed out into the blistering rainstorm.
Thunder rumbled outside, and then lightning zapped, illuminating the tiny room through the torn curtains.
She tried to decipher the Greek mystery from ancient times that Garrett had given her, but her eyes were too tired. Yet his sweetness in doing so tugged at her heart. He kept giving her books, which was the perfect present for her.
It was like he knew her completely.
She snuggled down, surrounded by the smell of lavender. The furnishings of the room were sparse and worn, but the place was clean and comfortable. And there was a slightly wilted potted plant on the window, a homey touch. She’d given it some water before getting into bed. While she wanted to remain awake until Garrett returned, perhaps a small nap wouldn’t hurt anything. Within minutes, her breathing leveled out, and she dropped into sleep.
The storm continued to rage. She opened her eyes to find herself in a meadow with a meager sun shining down. Huh. Interesting dream. She stretched her arms and legs, enjoying the smell of freshly cut grass. Something pulled at her dress. She looked down to find herself wearing her school uniform with its starched white shirt and pleated green skirt.
Ugh. She’d thought she’d burned all of them when she’d left the school. Finally. A fluorescent green butterfly landed on her knee, and happiness twirled through her.
The peaceful ultramarine sky began to yawn.
She stilled as a perfectly round hole with white edges opened up above her, revealing darkness. “Wait, no—” A force pulled her off the ground, and she struck out, spinning end over end toward a black hole.
Nails scratched down her sides, and pain bled through her skin. She cried out, stuck in the darkness, being bitten by invisible teeth.
Then she was falling. Wind bursts swirled around her, and she landed on her butt. Searing torment shot up her spine, rocking her head back. Her vision wavered, and she coughed, trying to remain conscious. Slowly, the night came into focus.
Where was she?
The surface beneath her was rough and had slight edges. Rock? Bending down, she could make out some sort of slate. She tried to stand, but dizziness attacked her, so she remained sitting. Bleeding on the rock. Her arms and legs felt as if they’d gone through a cheese grater.
