Page 142 of The Darkest Hour

I trembled.

“Women have a more subtle scent, usually. It’s still there, still distinct, but it’s often mixed with something sweeter. It could be the natural oils in their skin, the lotion or perfume they wear, or even the shampoo in their hair. But like men, there’s always that base human scent underneath it all. A little lighter, maybe, but just as recognizable.”

“No scent of women either?”

“None at all.”

I found myself fascinated by the idea that he could pick up on all these different layers of scent, that he could distinguish between them so easily. “What about children?”

“Children are different. . .” His gaze darkened. “They have a fresher scent, almost pure. It’s like the smell of new life—innocent, untainted by the world. You can often smell a hint of milk, soap, or whatever snacks they’ve been eating. But again, there’s that core scent that tells you it’s a human, just younger, more innocent.”

“And you don’t smell any of that here?”

“Well. . .” He turned his head to the right side of the chateau where it was just bare land and these odd colored rocks each in piles. It must have been thirty of them. Each pile seemed to serve as a marker for something, maybe it was distance or an indicator of what lay beneath the rocks.

He pointed at them. “I smell children over there, but dead ones.”

Tension gathered in my shoulders. “Then, those are graves?”

“I believe so.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“If we do find someone here, put your gun on them. I wouldn’t trust the person.”

“Got it.” My heart pounded.

“The plan is simple.”

I listened.

“We remain next to each other with our weapons ready. We knock on the door. No one comes, then we get in. Then, we slowly check the house together.”

“And if we end up finding someone?”

“We don’t greet them. Not a hello. Or nice to see you. Or even can you help me. We knock them out, get the rope, tie them up, and wait until they become conscious to answer our questions.”

“Got it.”

“As far as I’m concerned, Onyx, every adult here is guilty until proven innocent.”

I nodded.

Havoc knew this part of the world. He’d dealt with people like this, and I would trust him until we were off this damned island.

Havoc looked at me. “Are you ready to check it out?”

“Yes.”

“Stay close to me.”

“You too.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“That would never happen. As you said when we were in the raft, ‘We’re the most dangerous things right now in this ocean. Remember that. Feel the strength of those words in your chest.’”

He grinned.

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