Shards of Hope (Page 147)

A shaky smile. “You’re an extraordinary young woman. Isn’t she, dear?”

“Oh, yes,” his mate replied with a beaming smile. “Why, that horrible man might have hurt us if she hadn’t been there.”

Not sure how to respond to that unexpected statement, Zaira turned to Vasic as the teleporter returned. The valley first. We need more weapons and people.

Chapter 77

THE LOCATION THE shooter had given her for Persephone turned out to be a shipping yard owned by a human magnate. Locked and gated, barbed-wire fence above the chain-link, the premises also had electronic surveillance, guards, and dogs. None of those were enough to stop a team of Arrows determined to get in, especially under cover of the night that had fallen in this part of the world.

While Mica took care of the electronics and Vasic silently stunned the guards into unconsciousness, another member of Zaira’s team made sure the dogs were asleep. The sedative-laced meat they’d brought in after an initial reconnaissance had worked exactly as planned—the animals would be fine when they woke. No need to penalize them for the crimes of their master.

Going in ahead of the others while they cleaned up all suspicious signs, including hiding the unconscious guards, Zaira found a good position on the hulk of a ship being built and, putting the laser binoculars to her eyes, looked into the central building that functioned as the headquarters of the company.

It had six levels, was mostly glass and lit up like the Christmas tree she’d seen once in Times Square. That made it ridiculously simple to work out how many people were still inside. “Five,” she murmured to Vasic and Mica when they appeared by her side. “Three on level two, one on level five, the last on level six.” She increased the magnification on the binoculars. “I think level six is the CEO.”

Mica took the binoculars. “Confirmed. I double-checked his image before we left.” He glanced at Zaira. “We need him alive, yes?”

“Yes.” She broke down and put away the binoculars into a pocket of her combat pants. “Persephone was taken to a basement level.” And left there to die, according to the shooter. “Mica, you take the others and clear the building above. Vasic and I will head below.”

It was stupidly simple to get in, the CEO apparently smug in his belief that his guards and dogs and fences would keep people out. The actual locks on the main doors were pathetic. But the ones on the doors going down to the basement? Those were significant.

They were also electronic, so she and Vasic couldn’t simply break them.

“I can pull the door off its hinges,” Vasic said to her. “It may be noisy.”

“Wait.” Touching base with Mica, she checked his progress. “Don’t worry about noise. Mica has the CEO, and the other workers are corralled.”

A shuddering groan as the metal door bent and bent before being torn away from the hinges. Placing it carefully against the wall, Vasic didn’t attempt to take the lead position down the stairs. He knew as well as Zaira that this was her mission. If she’d failed Persephone, then she wouldn’t hide from it.

Heart tight and head still an echoing aloneness, she spoke to Aden anyway. We’re heading into the basement. There’s some lighting, but it’s very dim. And the smell—bad. Bad enough that it might come from a body that had just begun to decompose. It’s cold, too, but that’s okay. That’s actually good. Miane told me Persephone came from colder waters, that it’s heat that’s her enemy.

No response, but it made her feel better regardless. Because as long as she talked to him, he wasn’t dead, couldn’t be gone.

We’ve reached the bottom. The space is sprawling. Pockets of shadow pooled in the corners, but it was obvious the large open space filled with weapons and other supplies was empty of living beings. She and Vasic swept it anyway. There are rooms at the end. Cells.

Her anger burning ice in her blood, she stepped toward the first cage, looked inside. It’s too dark, she telepathed to Vasic. I’m going to shine in my flashlight. Shield your eyes. Careful to angle her own eyes in a way that meant it wouldn’t blind her, she shone the light within.

A startled hand went up, the thin man on the cot beyond looking at her with drug-hazed eyes, his skin yellow. Zaira switched off the light, her heart thudding. That’s one of the missing BlackSea people, she told Vasic. His facial features are distinctive even under the new scarring.

We can’t release him yet, the teleporter said. We need more people if we’re going to be freeing drugged hostages.

Zaira nodded. Much as it infuriated her to see anyone in a cage, Vasic was right. The hostage could hurt himself or others in his current state. Walking on, she shone the light into the next cage.

This one proved empty, the cot neatly made.

Two more were occupied, one by a woman, the second by another man. The woman was another BlackSea changeling and she had the Halcyon pallor, but the older black man asleep in the other cot wasn’t a sea changeling.

I recognize him, Vasic said unexpectedly just as her fully charged flashlight began to flicker. He was a Council scientist. Specialist in explosives, I think.

There was only one more cell left.

Gut churning and nausea shoving at her throat, she took a deep breath and shone the malfunctioning light through the narrow window. A tiny body lay under a thin blanket. Anger and sadness tore through Zaira . . . then just before the flashlight blinked off, the blanket moved. Shallow, so shallow, but it was a breath. “Vasic!”

“Move back. I didn’t see enough to get a teleport lock.” He wrenched the door off its hinges in a heartbeat and Zaira ran in to find the tiny little girl startled awake.