Page 16

Kylix opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment the floor trembled under their boots.

“Good Light, look up,” a guard muttered as they reached the fourth floor. Far above them, impossibly high, a light flickered in the otherwise dark building. “What’s that?”

A slow smile spread on Helianth’s lips. “Someone’s still up there. Come on.”

Kylix took point. “Move. Vandor, stay close to my cousin.”

“Sir.”

Daven lifted his chin. “This might be my first ride, but it won’t be my last. This is the only time, though, I’ll let you talk to me like that.”

Kylix looked back over his shoulder, smug as hell. “I know. Which is why I’m having the time of my life.”

“Motherfucker,” Daven mouthed as his cousin turned his back on him, but he couldn’t avoid his grin.

After a climb that felt like forever, they finally reached the top. The hall was deserted and dark aside from one row of flickering bulbs. The ones they’d seen from below.

There was only one door, light bleeding out beneath it.

“Open!” Kylix barked.

Vandor’s boots kicked open the door. Inside, the place looked torn apart. Blood streaked the ground and walls. Open cages were stacked three high.

They hadn’t just run. They’d stripped the place.

“Good Light.” The stench hit Daven hard enough to make his eyes water. Kylix barked orders about regrouping. Daven gagged and lifted a hand to his face. “This place smells like the dead.”

Around him, other Luminary guards retched and turned away.

Whatever the fuck had kept these prisoners here should die a slow death. Daven looked around him. The place was empty. Still, the buzzing under his skin intensified. Why wouldn’t his heart slow the fuck down?

Kylix’s multi-slate crackled. “I’m still reading faint movement. Do you see anyone?”

There was a choked sound, then movement in the corner of his eye.

Daven lifted his gun at the white-coated man before he could blink again. His finger twitched against the trigger. The man’s hands were bound behind his back.

Kylix froze for half a beat. “That’s Doctor Serrin.” His expression darkened. “He was reported missing.” Yanking the gag free, he demanded, “How did you get here?”

The doctor choked on the first breath. “They brought me in after. I wasn’t on the ship.”

Vandor’s voice came from the side hall. “Over here, sir.”

Kylix grabbed the man by the shoulder and shoved him forward. “Then show me.”

The doctor tried to pull back, stammering about a mistake, but Vandor caught his arm at once. “He’s in the inner lab. It wasn’t my fault.”

Daven’s pulse hammered against his eardrums. He shoved past them and rushed into the lab, only to freeze once his eyes adjusted to the dim light.

There, in a metal cage like the others, lay a man.

For a moment, Daven couldn’t move.

He was young, with bones too sharp from hunger. Silver-blue veins pulsed beneath thin skin, light moving through them in sharp bursts. White-blond hair stuck to his forehead. Red abrasions scored his collarbones where restraints had failed. His breathing hitched and stuttered, shallow and uneven, like his body couldn’t decide whether to keep going.

“Is he dead?” a guard asked.

“Shut the fuck up,” Daven snapped. He crossed the distance in two strides and kneeled beside the cage, closing his fingers around one of the wrists shackled to the metal bars. The pulse there was weak, but present.