Page 13 of Kai
“Sorceress?”She laid a hand on her chest.“Me?”
“You.” I inclined my head. “Cersi was a famous sorceress in Greek mythology. Am I right?”
“More like an infamous one,” she put in, her attention fixed on me.
“She was strong, feared, and powerful,” I said, and she gave a small nod. “So are you. Youwillwin this fight. Wewillprevail. Do you read me?”
Her gaze steeled, answering my challenge. “I read you.”
Cece didn’t have any reason to trust me yet, but resolve set her jaw, and she straightened her back until she stood to her full height. A pair of long legs braced beneath her black leggings. It combined with the athletic top she wore to hug her smooth curves in all the right places, showcasing the proportions between a pair of nicely rounded breasts, a small waist, and the soft flare of her hips. Her body’s proud stance reminded me she was an Astor, brave like her brother and sisters.
A familiar focus settled over me, my battle Zen, the calm before the storm. I peeked over the railing, tracking the tangos. Following someone’s loud commands, the men cleared the first floor like the professionals they were. NWO mercs for sure, based on their MO, weapons, and gear.
A minor explosion rattled the ground floor. Someone tripped one of my many booby traps, the first one I’d rigged along the staircase. A man cried out in pain.
Cece pointed a finger at me and mouthed, “You?”
I bobbed my head. Understanding gleamed in her remarkable eyes.
The detonation was small enough not to compromise the stairs’ structural integrity, but large enough to inform me as to the mercs’ progress, slow them down, and get one or two of them out of circulation, if the howling echoing in the lighthouse was any indication. It also concealed our movements.
Peeking over the railing, I glimpsed a man grabbing the wounded merc near the foot of the stairs and hurling the bleeding fucker out of the way. From my angle above, I could tell he wore a black cowboy hat and sported massively wide shoulders. He retreated out of view but kept shouting orders in a booming voice. His accent was common American. He swore like your average Marine.
I crossed my finger over my mouth and pointed down. Cece nodded, and moving quietly, we descended the steps. Keeping my ear out, I surmised the mercs were now moving more cautiously. Lots of nooks and crannies to slow them down. Lots of traps waiting for them.
They called out every time they found one of my laser-triggered devices. I’d also set up a few old-fashioned wire snares to leave behind a collection of confusion. Some were live. Some were not. They were all designed to buy us valuable time.
Cece and I sneaked down to the next level and stoleinto the small, tidy bedroom at my ten o’clock. The room had shocked me when I’d first scouted it on my way up. It was as stark as a monk’s cell, the antithesis of Astor House’s opulence. No luxury for Cece. She lived like a cloistered monk.
I closed the door and wedged a chair under the knob. Silently, I climbed onto the bed, opened the glass-and-lead window above it, and looked down. The bedroom’s only window faced the back of the tower. Tendrils of fog clung to the bottom of the structure. The moonlight allowed me to catch glimpses of the ground below, where a narrow ledge perched beneath the window at the edge of the cliff.
The ledge bordered the base of the lighthouse before it widened into separate rocky areas on either side. Dangerous, unpredictable blowholes pockmarked the wider rock shelves, spewing sea spray and roaring like beasts. All around the cliff, the ocean crashed against the rocks, and the waves boomed on impact. The wild landscape explained why the mercs hadn’t bothered to secure this side of the lighthouse. Nobody in their right mind would attempt an escape from this angle. Nobody but me.
Keeping track of the sounds coming from the stairwell, I extracted a brick of C-4 from my pack and inserted the detonator. Cece looked on as I rigged it for an explosion and duct taped it to the door frame. If anyone opened the door, they were gonna face mayhem.
With the explosives rigged, I took a knee, pulled my ropes from my ruck, and after doubling it up, fastened it to the bed’s heavy iron headboard. If something went wrong, the rope might yank at the bed, but the frame would wedge against the smallish window.
Not perfect, but it was my best option.
I pulled a harness out of my ruck, clipped it to the rope, and after settling it on the ground, mouthed, “Step up.”
Cece looked at the window and back at me. For a few seconds, she held my stare, as if probing my mind. She wasn’t sure about this, about me. Seconds turned to eons. I spotted the universe constructing and deconstructing in the depths of her striking eyes.
Thena and Missy had said Cece’s eyes were gray, but gray was too simple a color to describe her gaze’s luminosity. Her pale eyes transformed the light into the most delicate shade of blue I’d ever seen. Her irises sparkled like glacial ice, a translucent blue that leaned to silver, a close match to the full moon’s rays pouring through the window.
Changeling eyes, my grandmother would’ve called them. Sorceress eyes, eyes that shocked, intrigued, and enthralled with a rare radiance that beamed from inside of her as if she was a lighthouse herself.
It struck me that I could look into those eyes forever.
Yeah. The universe wanted to play hardball with me.
My decision, I reminded myself.But not now. Later.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked in a breathy voice.
“Best and fastest option.” I motioned for her to hurry.
With a grimace, Cece stepped into the harness. I slid it up her legs and fit it around her body.
