“She’s out of town with her boyfriend,” Donny says. The color drains from his face. “Is Izzy okay?”
The lead agent checks his phone. “The Olympians have been collected and are en route. We need to leave now.”
Donny pulls away as one goes to reach for him, but the others stand their ground. “This isn’t a request. You’re coming with us.”
“What’s this about?” I ask.
The agents all make quick eye contact and one says, “The kids.”
Dread makes us docile as we follow the men without protest. They usher us into an unmarked SUV and confiscate our phones. An old, forgotten dread crawls up my spine. Dormant for years, it’s fully awake now.
They lead us into a nondescript building. No windows, no glamour, only grim efficiency. It’s not the kind of place I’d expect to see the most influential couple in the world, but there they are—Penny and Hadeon Olympian. Penny taps her fingers against a glass table, her brow furrowed. Hadeon sits with his head in his hands. Across from them is Duncan, Waverly’s and Shae’s father.
The door opens again, and another group of agents file in, led by a gray-haired man with a scowl that could carve stone. The man right behind him is mousy and thin, his suit hanging off his frame like he’s lost too much weight too fast. A third man walks over and sits silently at a computer, his sharp eyes studying us as he pulls up something on a screen the size of the wall.
Sheenters the room next, and everything stops for a second.
Katya.
Not good. All bad. My brain slams against a brick wall every time I try to imagine what’s happening. It’s like my mind won’tlet me go there until someone confirms it—spells it out in plain words.
A male voice cuts through my fears. “Fifty-seven minutes ago, we intercepted a message from The Deviant.”
No. No. No. My stomach drops to my feet and shoots straight back up to my throat. My skin feels electric, my body on fire.
“His crew infiltrated the transport carrying your children and Uri Koslov. He is in possession of them.”
Gasps, cries, and Donny’s unmistakable, “Oh, fuck me,” fill the room.
Penny Olympian’s voice cuts through the chaos, ice-cold and sharp. “Do you have confirmation?”
“Yes.” Katya steps forward, calm and detached. “We’ve tracked the route and pinpointed their current location.”
She doesn’t look at me.
The man at the computer projects an overhead image of a warehouse surrounded by trees, a field stretching out behind it. The building is plain and flat-roofed, with a few ventilation stacks. Unremarkable.
“This is a live feed of the facility where the kids and Mr. Koslov are being held,” the man says.
“So what’s taking so long to launch a rescue?” Penny demands.
“We’re struggling to find schematics of the building,” another agent says. “Thermal imaging isn’t reliable. Our recon team is still an hour out.”
“Two hours?” Duncan slams his hand on the table. “Our kids have been missing for an hour, and it’s going to be another before they’re safe? Do you have any idea what can happen to a kid in two hours?”
“Sir, we understand this is a stressful time, but acting rashly could jeopardize their lives.”
“And Uri’s,” I whisper. My chest feels hollow, like I’ve already lost everything. “Has The Deviant made any demands?”
“No,” Katya replies. “I don’t think he knows we’ve tracked him yet.”
“That’s good,” the older agent says. Is this Declan, Katya’s new boss? “The Deviant is unpredictable. If he realizes we’re onto him, he won’t hesitate to kill them.”
“Jesus,” mutters the man at the computer. “A little compassion, bro.”
Penny leans back in her chair, her icy composure unshaken. “It doesn’t matter. The Olympians have their own team for this.” She pulls a sleek phone from her purse. “Archer, Tyrone, how far out are you?”
Static before one of them says, “Ninety minutes minimum.”