Page 70 of Warrior's Captive
“You knowAdekhyunNumair insists on a classical education.”
“Is the chatter necessary?” Tai’ri asked. They spoke in voices pitched low enough not to carry, but still. “Ebwenna.”
She nodded and moved forward ahead of them, crouching in front of the padlock. “It’s rusty enough I could probably just sneeze on it.”
Tai’ri kept his gaze trained on the nearby buildings. The lock broke open with a clang and they all froze. Ebwenna’s hand rested lightly on the latch and she eased it open, pushing the door open a millimeter, then waiting for instruction.
No one jumped out of the neighboring buildings, though, and the sound of scattered foot traffic continued as usual in front.
“Oh, fuck,” Evvek said. “The basement is hot, sir. I’m counting twenty warm bodies packed in two rooms. Three moving around in hallways, two sitting.”
Tai’ri’s shoulders tensed. “It’s a pen.”
“Sir, you need backup.” Evvek’s voice was shorn of its usual banter. “You’re not made, there’s time to—”
An alarm blared. “Too late.”
“Sir—”
“They know we’re here.” If they retreated now, the people in the basement would disappear. “Let’s go.”
They were trained, and experienced. Ebwenna stood, stealth a fond wish, and kicked the door open as they all drew weapons. “That’s always satisfying.”
Tai’ri entered first.
* * *
“I can’t wait till I can have a real drink again,” Shira said, staring mournfully into the glass of protein smoothie.
“A glass of wine would be nice,” Vivian acknowledged. They sat on the deck in chairs that cradled their backs and allowed them to put their feet up. “Though I’m not sure about—”
Sudden, searing pain. The glass slipped from Vivian’s fingers as she half doubled over, gasping, the pink liquid spilling onto the deck.
“Viv!” Shira exclaimed. “Is it the baby?”
She couldn’t breathe, it was as if a giant weight pressed down on her chest. Every muscle in her body seized, and when she inhaled her lungs burned. It felt like she was trapped in a burning building. It felt like—
“Tai’ri!” she gasped.
Vaguely she was aware of a sharp voice, then a mask slammed over her mouth and nostrils. Fresh, cool air infiltrated her lungs and moments later the pain and fire receded. But not the certainty. She pushed the mask aside, swinging her feet cumbersomely to the ground and struggling to get up.
Banujani pressed her back down. “I called Abeyya, Vivian. Stay still.”
“It’s not me, it’s Tai’ri!” She realized the skin on her arms was crawling, fire ants marching in whorls. She glanced down, and the marks writhed, edged in angry light.
Banujani stood and strode to the edge of the deck, speaking in a low voice. Vivian took the chance and stood, knees unsteady, but clung to the chair until she felt solid on her feet.
“Is he hurt?” Shira asked softly. “I’ve been reading up on the marks. They can help you sense when your mate is in trouble.”
Vivian swallowed and took a deep breath. “I know.”
Banujani turned, the expression on her face carefully neutral. But her eyes were angry. “We know his last location. They’re sending help.”
“It won’t be enough.” With every fiber of her being she knew that. “I . . . what I felt. As good as your medtech is, it won’t be enough.”
Banujani was silent, weighing Vivian’s words. “Right. All we can do is wait.”
The guard continued to pace the deck, occasionally speaking in a low murmur, face hard and expressionless. Shira and Vivian watched her, Shira’s brow furrowed as she glanced occasionally at Vivian.
