Page 20 of Cage of Starlight
They’re gone.
Tory grips his scalpel harder.
He’sthiscloseto the entrance. He could make a run for it. If the rebels are still out there, he could catch up. There’s only one person between Tory and the yard.
“Report.” A tall, lean figure paces toward Vantaras from the opposite direction, too obscured by the light for Tory to make out his face. Tory grimaces.
Two people, then, between him and freedom. Worse, but not impossible.
“Five infiltrators, Sir,” Vantaras says, unmoved. He withdraws a kerchief from his pocket and wipes the blood from his face. “I wounded one of them, two shots to the gut. When they realized they would make it no farther inside, they evacuated.”
“Theyescaped,” the emotionless voice says. “You let them escape.”
“Sir!” Vantaras pockets the kerchief and stands rigid. “Intake holds incredibly important records and resources, and Dr. Helner and the sensitive equipment in her lab are nearby. It seemed wiser to preserve the Compound’s resources and its sole Reacher than to pursue them and put STAR-7’s inhabitants at risk.” He pauses. “They had a Teleporter, which I assume is how they got this far. I cannot pursue and wasn’t near enough to prevent them from ’porting away, but I don’t expect the Seed with the abdominal wound to survive for long.”
Vantaras’ full attention is on the lean officer. His weapon is holstered, gloved hands clutched behind him. Tory might be able to sneak by before he can draw it. It’s worth a shot.
Tory sucks in a breath and moves.
A steel-solid grip closes on his upper arm before he gets far.
“Sir,” Vantaras grits out. “It seems my new supervisee was in a hurry to arrange introductions. Colonel, this is Tory Arknett, STAR-7’s new Channeler.”
Tory tries to free himself from Vantaras’ grip, but it’s stone-solid.
“He should have been secured,” the so-called colonel says.
The coldness of his voice is what makes Tory look. Standing in a well-ironed dress uniform with platinum-pale hair in an undercut, the colonel is unremarkable at first glance—willowy-tall and fine-featured. Early forties, maybe, just enough for crow’s feet.
That’s where the normalcy ends.
He offers Tory a cursory smile. It has all the necessary tweaks—the upward turn of the lips, the crinkling of eyes paler than the silvery edge of a blade, the flash of white teeth—but it’s cracked-mask cold and soulless. It falls too fast. He doesn’t rock or shift where he stands, statue-still like his heart doesn’t beat.
Tory knows this kind of man, has cleaned up after his type in the Houses when they left one of the employees bleeding and half-conscious.
“Seed,” the colonel says with a thin-lipped nod in Tory’s direction.
Tory spits on the floor to let the guy know what he thinks of the greeting.
“Insubordinate.” The colonel retreats like Tory spat on him, expression warping with delicate distaste.
Vantaras goes still, grip on Tory’s arm going bone-crushing. “I’ll see to it that he’s put away in his room.”
Put away. Like a weapon, a thing. Tory seethes.
“See that you do. Your father will be hearing about this, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Sir.” Vantaras turns so quickly and pulls so hard that the socket of Tory’s arm shrieks with pain and he has little choice but to follow, a potent mix of helpless rage boiling in his belly. He looks back, wondering if he can free himself and make for the door, but the colonel has moved to stand in the middle of the hall, deadly sharp gaze narrowed on Tory.
Vantaras yanks harder, his too-fast stride nearly pulling Tory off his feet. He hisses, “Do you not understand the meaning ofstay?”
They wait for what feels like an eternity until the massive, mechanical door that closed the inhabitants ofResidence Quarters (C)into their hallway clanks open again. No one left their rooms to see what was happening. The single person standing in an open doorway yelps and retreats inside her room at the sight of Vantaras.
Once they’re inside, Vantaras pulls Tory to such an abrupt stop that he nearly overbalances.
Face beaded with sweat in the eerie, flashing light, Vantaras shakes his gloved hand like he handled something wriggly and wrong insteadof holding Tory’s arm through an additional layer of cloth.“When I give you an order, I expect you to obey it.”
“Do you really?” Bile burns the back of Tory’s throat. He was so close he could smell fresh air. He could see the light of the outside, yellow-dim and warm. Those rebels had a Teleporter. They could have gotten Tory out.
