Page 51 of Sixth
Apex watched the arcs dance. “Perfect place to hide a prison.”
“Or to bury one,” Emmysaid.
Lume placed her forepaws on the viewport and pressed her nose to the glass like a child. The stormlight painted her in cold white and made her eyes look older for a heartbeat.
She whispered a trill, then added softly, “Bad place. Hungry.” The small voice carried an eerie certainty, awarning and a promise in words that made the air between them tighten.
“Cloak full power,” Apex said. “No transmissions.”
“Stealth descent aligned,”Core reported.“Contact in eight sectors.”
Emmy’s palm found his thigh, quick and hot. “We bring them home.”
“Affirmative.”
He covered her hand with his and a small tremor ran through her. He returned it with a steadiness that she immediately took. He kept his gaze on the broken world and saw another thing instead. Saw her mouth open on a gasp, saw his name fall out of it, soft and rough at once. He shut the image down so he could fly the ship throughfire.
Their new courier-class vessel slid into the charge. Lightning wrapped the hull and let it go. The plates turned like slow teeth waiting for meat. Lume braced herself and spread her filaments into the board and the stealth field sank deeper, ablanket pulled tight over a body determined not to beseen.
“Hold,” Apex said. The ship obeyed. The storm took them into its throat, swallowed their light, and kept its secrets.
They didn’t come here to be careful. They came to cut something ugly out of the galaxy and take back what was theirs. He’d do it with quiet hands and a cold voice. He’d do it while the heat of the woman at his side burned a line down to his bones. He’d do it because someone had dared put Hannah Ward in a cage and had written his brother’s designation on a form like a butcher notes weight.
“Final approach,”Core said.
“Mark it,” Apex answered. He looked at Emmy. She looked at him. Lume looked at both of them like she already knew how this wouldend.
They went down into the lightning together.
