Page 13 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

"Only if they're casting for the comic relief sidekick," Jade said in her usual dry voice, though there was a hint of amusement in her usually impassive features.

Max arched a brow. "And how would the fearless Kra-ell leader know about comic relief and sidekicks in movies?"

She looked at him down her nose. "I've seen every Disney movie ever made. I used to get them for the kids in my compound, and after Igor enslaved me along with all the other females of my tribe, I convinced him to continue purchasing the movies for the kids so they could learn English."

Kyra's gut twisted. "You were enslaved?"

She couldn't imagine the proud warrior being anyone's slave.

Jade nodded. "It's a long story, and one day, I will tell you about it over a bottle of vodka. But not today. Today, I need to erase it from my mind so I can do what needs to be done."

Kyra understood that better than most.

"I don't understand why women accept these," Rishba said, fingering the edge of her own head covering. "To be erased like this, made into a ghost."

"Not everyone is a rebel and a warrior." Kyra reached out to adjust the female's niqab. "For most, it's what they know and what their families expect. They don't have a choice, even if they hate it. Resistance will get them beaten and sometimes even executed. Sometimes, it's just easier to accept the dogma and believe that they are following divine commands and will go to hell if they don't obey."

Jade adjusted her own garment the way Kyra had demonstrated on Rishba. "It serves our purpose today. No one will suspect that beneath these symbols of female oppression are warriors capable of eliminating them with their bare fangs."

"Please take your seats," the pilot announced over the intercom. "We're starting our descent."

Kyra sat down and watched Tehran coming into view through the window—a sprawling metropolis nestled against the Alborz Mountains.

Somewhere in the vast city were the missingpieces of her past, her sisters, nieces, and nephews that had been stolen from her. But lurking out there were also the Doomers who sought to enslave her family, even though the fake doctor was no longer issuing orders.

There might be others who knew about her family's godly genes and were planning to exploit them.

5

MAX

As the plane touched down with a gentle bump, Max tightened his grip on Kyra's hand. It was supposed to be a gentle gesture of reassurance, but the surge of adrenaline he always experienced before the start of a mission made him squeeze a little too hard.

"Sorry." He brought her hand to his lips for a kiss.

"I'm not fragile despite what I look like now," she reminded him. "I'm an immortal warrior. I'm resilient and strong."

"Yes, you are." He kissed her knuckles.

It was Max's first time at Tehran International Airport, and it surprised him how small it was for a country of nearly ninety million people. In the US, an airport this size would serve a community of two to three million at the most.

Apparently, Iranians didn't do much international travel.

He touched the teardrop hanging on a short string around his neck. None of them other than Kyra spoke Farsi, and he hoped the teardrops would do a decent job of translating for them.

He and Yamanu were supposed to be Iranian businessmen returning from a trip to Turkey. Kyra and Jade were their wives, the two Kra-ell females their servants, and Dima and Anton their bodyguards. Yamanu's shrouding and thralling would do the heavy lifting of getting them through the checkpoints, so he didn't worry too much about the teardrops doing a convincing job, but it was still the trickiest part of their mission.

Eric, who was scheduled to arrive later that day with the second jet, wouldn't have the benefit of a master shrouder and would have to rely on the forged documentation and bribes that had been paid to airport personnel. Hopefully, that would be enough. They needed the extra space in his jet in case they were going to return with all of Kyra's family members.

"How exactly does the blanket thralling and shrouding work?" Kyra asked Yamanu. "Do you plant thoughts in their heads or just confuse them and make them think of something else?"

Yamanu tilted his head. "I make a mental suggestion for them to see what I want them to see and what they expect, and I also discourage curiosity by making them feel bored. It's like creating a subtle pressure that guides attention away from us."

As the jet came to a final stop, Max rose to his feet and retrieved his and Kyra's bags from the overhead compartment.

As they disembarked, he positioned himself in front of Kyra, which for him was a protective instinct but would seem perfectly natural in this culture, where women trailed behind their men.

Yamanu was at the head of the procession, his mind tricks making the process entirely frictionless. Max kept his movements relaxed, but his senses were on high alert, cataloging exits, security personnel positions, and potential choke points.

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