Page 56
The ship’s bond hit me like a wall of water. Not the clean, calibrated connection a Kelvane captain should feel. This was raw, ragged, forced through damaged architecture and held together with nothing but the Hollow Chorus’s refusal to let go of what we desired more than life.
My vision whited out, and sound dropped away. For a second, I was nowhere. Then I was everywhere the ship was. I felt the hull like skin, the corridors of veins, the bridge console like a nerve ending under my hands.
The bond was partial, unstable, fraying at every edge, and the ship couldn’t hold it for long. But it was enough. Underneath the ship’s architecture, woven into the damaged matrix, I found Cass.
Her pain was so sharp that my breath froze. Her body was broken, her mind intact, but she was fighting with everything she had to hold on. And she was losing.
Fuck! Fury. Cold, controlled, calculating fury simmered in her. If my uncle had done this to her, he was already dead. He just didn’t know it yet.
“Cass isn’t in my uncle’s office.” I opened my eyes. “But I’ve got her.”
Chapter 19
Cass
The transport dumped me on concrete that stank of chemical coolant. I was below ground. Maybe in a warehouse. I rolled onto my back, ready to fight, but I was alone. There was a single strip light cycling through a dying flicker that turned the room into a strobe. No windows. One door.
My hamstring had seized during the ride. The muscle was a knotted fist from hip to knee, hot to the touch even through my pants. And the head wound hadn’t just been a taser burn. It was bleeding, slow and sticky, matting my hair. Doc would be making comments about concussion, rest, and fluids.
If only I could rest.
I sat up and took inventory. This was a sub-level industrial space, with no surveillance cameras that I could identify. There was also nothing to help me fight my way out.
Take a minute, then move. There must be options. Do not give up.
The door slid open, and two Kelvane walked through. The first was taller, lean through the shoulders, wearing a tactical harness with a sidearm. The second was broader, shorter, and carried himself like he thought he was top of the pile of dirtbags.
Neither introduced themselves. Rude.
“We need the access codes for Dead Stick Salvage’s financial systems,” the tall one said. “Account routing, authorization keys, and your personal biometric override.”
I stayed on the floor. Getting up would cost me the hamstring, and I’d rather they thought I was weaker than I was. “Can I get a name first? I like to know who I’m dealing with.”
The broad one crossed the room and drove his boot into my bad thigh. The hamstring screamed. I bit the inside of my cheek and locked every muscle.
“Codes.”
“That’s not a name, handsome.” My voice came out steady. “Also, it’s not how you get what you want.”
The tall Kelvane crouched and tipped my chin with his finger. “We know you’re ex-military. EOD, right? That means your pain threshold is trained. But this isn’t a contest, Miss Myers, and we don’t want to hurt you. But our employer needs the codes within the hour. Make it easy, or everything changes.”
“Changes how?” I met his stony stare.
“We stop asking, and we use methods that get answers. Ones you never forget.” His finger tracked down my throat to my breast. He moved closer, his gaze fixed on my mouth. “It’s my favorite way to get you to open up. And you’ll scream so loud when I open you real wide, and bury my—”
I head-butted him, a slice of pain stabbing through my skull. But it worked.
He rolled back, one hand on his broken nose, blood dripping through his fingers. His boot slammed into me before the Kelvane behind him muttered something, and he stopped.
Movement by the door cut through my pain haze. A third Kelvane had appeared. He was younger, arms crossed, watching everything with a tight expression. His weight shifted every time the others moved, and his eyes tracked the violence the way you track a feral dog in a yard you’re stuck in.
“Your boss kidnapped me, assaulted me, and is attempting financial fraud using my identity,” I said. “That’s a capital offense in six jurisdictions I can name. You’re all an accessory. Walk away and let me leave, and I’ll forget what you look like and won’t tell the police.”
“You need to be alive to file a complaint, bitch.” The tall Kelvane straightened, still testing his busted nose. “You won’t file anything once I’m done with you. And I’m doing you so hard, you’ll remember it even when you’re dead.”
The Kelvane by the door shifted his weight again. I held his gaze for a beat. He broke first.
“Codes, Miss Myers.” The tall Kelvane pulled a data tablet from his harness and set it on the floor. “Don’t make me hurt you again.”