The ebony cornrows ending at her nape gleamed under the scarlet lamps. “Let’s keep the greetings for later.” She moved out of the doorway, gesturing for me to follow her. “We have to get you out of here.”
“Not yet.” Scanning both directions in the hallway, I wracked my brain for potential routes Ardaton’s Heads might have taken. “I’m going after Kali and Zion.”
Damia turned off her flashlight. “Why do you think we’re here?” she asked, securing the portable device to her belt. “Ryder is looking for Zion, and I sent Greyn to get Kali. I can take you to them.”
My steps slowed. She had ordered Greyn, her second-in-command, someone who held her ultimate trust, to comb the territory for Kali instead of keeping him at her side. My chestswelled with appreciation. Year after year, my respect for my childhood friend only grew.
As we marched somewhere deep underground in Ardaton’s prison, I shared my fears. “They won’t walk out of here alive.” I had no doubt Adder wouldn’t leave Zion and Kali unguarded. Ryder and Greyn had trouble cut out for them.
“They will.” Damia stated it like a fact, navigating us along the hallways doused in a red glow like she knew the place. “We’re storming Ardaton. My tech team has disabled their entire power grid. Everything requiring electricity has stopped working.”
Her compound had invaded the city.
That was not the plan. Far from it.
Unease stormed within me as we turned left and strode down another hallway littered with corpses of soldiers and medical personnel. “How? You didn’t have the numbers to attack Ardaton.”
“They sent the majority of their military to Ilasall. They’re still there, cleaning up the streets or driving around in your compound, trying to find anyone alive. It left the troops stationed here stretched too thin.” Her cunning nature shone in her grin. “We’re utilizing it.”
I had to give it to her. Strategy was a skill she had honed to perfection.
Freeing a handgun from her thigh holster, she handed me the weapon. “Here. I have a spare.”
I tossed aside the shard I’d been carrying with me, exchanging it for the firearm. Its smooth contours mellowed out the hail inside me, and the full magazine fully squashed the torrent of ice. Something about holding an instrument of death always soothed my senses.
As we took another left turn, I ran into a pair of legs. Gray slacks covered the limbs, and a matching shirt with red thread framing the front pocket decorated his torso.
Slumped against a wall, Ezra lay dead. Splotches of crimson marred his outfit, from his collar to his belt. Satisfaction together with the realization it wasn’t me who had ensured his end conflicted in my mind.
“We encountered him on our way.” Damia nudged the lifeless figure with her foot. “He probably deserved more than a few bullets, but we were on a tight schedule.”
I stepped over the river of blood surrounding Ezra. “How did you even find us?”
“We figured the prison was where they’d take you.” Opening the door to a stairwell, Damia paused to listen for any type of noise. “With the lack of guards, it was easier to take over than crack an egg without getting the slime everywhere.”
Our heavy footfalls echoed in the shaft as we conquered a set of stairs. “What about Ardaton’s government?” Learning that the six rats and their leader had escaped would not be a surprise. Those snakes could slither through the smallest gaps.
“They’re all apprehended.” My eyebrows shot up, and she explained, “With the prison situated fully underground, there weren’t many exits for them to use.” As we emerged two floors up from where we had started, she added, “Before you ask, we’re keeping them alive for now. I gave strict orders of no foul play.”
Releasing the stairwell door, I let it shut with a bang. “So that leaves Coriattus.”
The last city standing. Which had also sent soldiers to riddle mine, Damia’s, and Conall’s and his partners’ houses with bullets. And had succeeded in killing Conall and Aanya, my childhood friend and one of his partners.
Studying our surroundings, Damia disengaged the safety on her handgun. “Nope.”
Based on her chuckle, bewilderment had built its nest on my face.
Maneuvering around another deceased gaping at the ceiling, a scarlet puddle drying on the white vinyl floor under the petite woman’s head, I pressed, “What do you mean, no?”
Damia tugged her gray vest down, the ink decorating her forearm hidden by streaks of blood. “Nissa and Dain are assaulting Coriattus as we speak.”
The two who had remained of the foursome. They had gotten to spend merely half the night together after their wedding before Coriattus had ambushed us all.
But from how Dain had fallen apart and Nissa had stoically endured, refusing to show a hint of her pain in public, I had highly doubted they would be willing to do anything more than climbing out of bed.
Grief could break even the strongest.
But I had been proven wrong.
