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For a moment it felt as if something shifted inside the storm itself, the clouds rolling slower above the towers.
Vandor followed his gaze, both of them falling silent. Even the storm seemed to hold its breath.
Daven looked back at the deserted road, then slowly lifted his gaze again, following the dark wall of cloud hanging over the skyline until the truth hit him hard enough to turn his stomach.
“…Shit.”
They hadn’t come here for the hospital.
They were standing directly beneath whatever Concordant had hidden above them.
27
RYNETH
It had been over half an hour since Daven left, and Ryneth was getting more anxious by the minute. Moargan’s kitchen felt too loud, the terrace doors still open to the storm while the others barked over feeds and half-finished orders.
A faint smile touched the corners of Ryneth’s mouth.
They were loud and weird, and somehow they were starting to feel a little too much like home. Who would have thought he’d ever appreciate these guys?
Still, Ryneth stood exactly where Daven had left him. The worry had settled low in his stomach, made worse by the bond’s silence. It wasn’t empty. It was there, alive and distant, like something being held too tightly to reach him.
Daven said he’d left something at home, but that had been a lie. Ryneth’s hand drifted back to his multi-slate anyway, checking again just to confirm what he already knew. There was still no reply.
He read his own message again.
You’re not where you said you’d be.
Had he been too pushy?
Daven had read the message. Had chosen not to reply.
Which made no sense.
Since the bond had settled between them, Daven never stayed quiet for long. If he could not touch him, he sent something instead. A word. An insult. A promise. Some stupid possessive comment that made Ryneth want to smile even when he was angry.
Now the screen stayed blank.
Where are you?
Across the kitchen the others kept talking over the feeds, Kylix still unmoving on one screen while Yure chased glitches across three others. Rain-slick streets. Hospital corridors. Empty intersections.
Somewhere out there was Daven.
“Hold up.”
Ryneth’s breath caught at the sudden urgency in the engineer’s voice. “What is it?”
Yure’s fingers moved faster over the keyboard. “Something just shifted in Sector Seven. Fuck, I’ve got to be quick. I’ve got to—fuck! They’ve rewritten the grid again. Assholes.” He leaned back in his chair, hands in his hair. “Those motherfuckers. I lost the location.”
“What game are those assholes playing?” Moargan grumbled. “Kylix is standing right fucking there. How is it even possible that the Luminary doesn’t have access to the fucking building? They are on our territory.”
“Father—” Helianth started, but Moargan waved him off.
“I know.”
“Shit. Check this out.” The feeds on the wall stuttered. One camera froze. Another jumped forward. A third repeated the same corridor again and again.
