He held up a transparent ball filled with neon-green, translucent liquid. On one of the shelves, in a rectangular black metal case, sat three more.
“Step away from those.” Someone nearby cocked their gun. “Now.”
Colton set the bomb in its case and raised his hands. Gemma, Imara, and Christian spun slowly, their own hands raised in surrender. A figure emerged, clad in armor and armed to the teeth, a menacing glint in his eyes.
“Who the hell are you?” the bounty hunter asked. He spoke their language, but his accent was strange—an unfamiliar lilt to his words. “One of you had better answer me, or I will start shooting.”
“We’re, uh, here for the prisoner exchange,” Christian said, gently nudging Gemma out of the way and stepping forward.
The bounty hunter narrowed his eyes. “The auction isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Really? Our invite told us to come today.” Christian’s hand moved toward the handgun on his hip.
The hunter’s nostrils flared. “Don’t even think about it.”
Boom!
Gemma shrieked as Colton fired from behind them. The bullet nicked the hunter’s neck, leaving behind nothing but a thin streak of red. Gemma flinched as the bullet ricocheted off the wall and thunked into something solid.
“You son of a—”
Another boom, and a hole appeared in the bounty hunter’s forehead. Blood and brain matter painted the scenery behind him as he fell limp to the floor. Gemma squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the image of Hawk’s lifeless body from her mind.
Christian’s eyes were full of wrath as he lowered his weapon back to his side. “We need to go. Quickly. Someone will have heard that.”
“I thought you saidnotto use guns,” Imara drawled.
“Yeah, well, sometimes you have to improvise.”
Christian shoved a couple items from the shelves into his vest. Colton slammed closed the case of bombs, then the four of them raced from the armory.
Thankfully, Christian’s efficiency with a map came in handy. After a few quick assessments, he led them toward the mess hall, maneuvering around the corners of the labyrinthine building with impressive speed.
Footsteps pounded in front and behind them, bounty hunters shouting that their bunker had been infiltrated. Gemma’s heartbeat rang like a siren in her ears, the severity of their situation sinking into her skin.
Any moment now, their enemies would round on them, and they’d be surrounded. All four of them would die, and they’d fail their test. They’d be sent back to Perileos. Nadine would never be vindicated. They would rot in a stinking pit of disease and depression.
Christian jumped into a gap in the wall and ushered them in. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his gaze remained locked on the hall, his dagger grasped in his hands. The bounty hunters ran passed, yelling orders to keep searching and to kill on sight.
The sound of retreating footsteps was like a massage to Gemma’s heart.
Christian’s stare flit from the hall to them. “We need to split up.”
“What?” Gemma almost shouted.
“If we stay together, we die together, and we lose together. Imara and I will take the bombs to the mess hall. You two get the captives and get them out of here.”
“No way,” Colton said. “You’re the only one who can read that blasted map. Imara and I will take the bombs. You and Gemma go free the captives.”
Christian ground his teeth. There was such fire in his eyes—his hatred for the bounty hunters practically seeped from his soul.
“Fine,” he growled, pulling out the map and showing Colton exactly how to get to the mess hall. Then he handed Colton the access ring they’d swiped off the guard at the front entrance in exchange for one of the bombs.
He peeked his head out from their hiding spot before popping back in. “It’s clear. We move now.”
Colton and Imara went to the left; Gemma and Christian split off to the right.
Again, they stuck to the shadows, trying their best to blend seamlessly into their surroundings. Whenever Gemma heard a voice, her knees weakened. Everything she’d worked so bloody hard to achieve would be over in a matter of seconds. But every time she thought they were done for, Christian somehow managed to find a hiding spot, and they squeezed themselves together until their enemies passed.
