Page 27 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "What do you want me to say, Max? That I'm terrified? That I'm imagining what those monsters might be doing to my sister and her children right now? That I'm furious with myself for not moving faster, for not getting to them in time?"

"You did everything you could, but if you need to vent, go ahead. It's better than to keep it bottled up inside."

Kyra's fingers tightened around the bag handles. "I can't afford to feel anything much right now. I need to stay focused. I need to remember all the things I've learned over the years and utilize them to save my family. I need a cool head."

"I understand," Max said. "I understand compartmentalization. But ignoring those emotions doesn't make them go away. They'll still affect your judgment, your reactions."

"What's your point?" she asked, an edge creeping into her voice.

"My point is that you should acknowledge them first and then put them aside. Another point is that you don't have to carry this alone." He reached out, not quite touching her but close enough that she could feel his presence. "I'm here. The whole team is here. We're going to get your family back."

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat that had started in her sister's house and had kept growing as time went on.

"Thank you." She leaned over and kissed Max's cheek.

Something had shifted between them—a deepening of the already profound connection that had been developing since their first meeting.

"Five minutes," Yamanu called to the team, checking his watch. "Finish gearing up and move out."

Kyra checked her weapons one last time, ensuring each was loaded and secured properly. The weight ofthem was familiar, comforting in its way—tools of her trade, extensions of her will. But more comforting was the knowledge that she wouldn't be facing this battle alone. She had a team she trusted and Max at her side.

12

KYRA

The sun was setting as the team got in position around the Doomers' compound. Kyra lay flat on her stomach at the crest of a low ridge, high-powered binoculars pressed to her eyes as she studied the facility below. The wind carried dust that gritted between her teeth, but she barely noticed it.

"Two guard towers on the north perimeter, another on the east," she murmured into her comms unit. "The main entrance has a checkpoint with at least four armed personnel. Vehicles moving in and out through the south gate—looks like less security there."

The compound sprawled across several acres of land, surrounded by a concrete wall topped with razor wire. Inside the perimeter stood several buildings—a central structure that looked like awarehouse, two smaller rectangular buildings that could be barracks or prisoner facilities, and a fortified administrative building with satellite dishes on its roof.

"I've just gotten the satellite imagery," Yamanu said in her earpieces. "It confirms your assessment."

"South gate shows regular vehicle traffic with minimal inspection protocols," Max said.

Something about the compound's layout tugged at her memory—the arrangement of buildings, the positioning of guard posts, and the strong lighting that was designed to eliminate blind spots. It reminded her of something, something that made her heart rate quicken and her palms dampen with sweat.

Then, it hit her with the force of a physical blow. The facility's design was eerily similar to the compound where she had been held twenty-some years ago, the place she'd awakened with no memories of her life before, only to find herself a prisoner.

The same cold grip of fear she'd felt then threatened to close around her throat now. For a moment, she was back there—disoriented, terrified, watching guards drag screaming women through the corridor.

Except, that facility was inside Tehran, not outside of it. She hazily remembered running through the streets with fellow liberated prisoners and people running interference for them, blocking the pursuers' path, seemingly unintentionally.

Then again, her memories of that day were sofuzzy that her mind had probably made up most of the details to fill in the gaps. Perhaps the facility had not been in Tehran. Perhaps she and the other escapees had taken a vehicle and driven it to Tehran, ditching it somewhere, and continuing on foot to disappear among the crowds.

Had it been some kind of holiday that so many people were on the streets? Perhaps it was a protest?

When she returned to America with her sisters and her nephews and nieces, she would put some effort into researching what had happened to her, but now she had a mission to focus on. Her family depended on her, and she couldn't afford distractions.

Kyra forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, and one more. That was then. This was now. She was no longer a prisoner but a warrior, and she was no longer alone. She had a team of superheroes with her. Yamanu, the incredible shrouder and thraller, and the Kra-ell, who were warriors on a whole different level.

Max had told her how they'd plowed through the guards at the compound in Tahav, human and immortal alike.

Then there was Max, who was not going to let her down if it was the last thing he did.

Her pendant pulsed against her skin, warmer than usual but not with the burning heat that signaled immediate danger.

Except, she no longer trusted its input.

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