Page 76 of Ren: Warlord Brides
Traffickers relied on old, broken tech because stasis chambers made transporting sentient cargo easy. They did not care if the cargo survived because lives were cheap. The chambers allowed them to transport more beings without having to worry about food, oxygen, maintaining their health, or the threat of rebellion.
“We will be stealthy. Remain silent. I know it is a struggle for you,” Havik told Ren.
“Go pull your tail. I am the embodiment of silence.”
The warehouse sat apart from the other buildings, at the fringe, and separated with tumble-down fencing. Weeds poked through the broken pavement. Shattered glass glinted on the ground.
The building remained dark.
Images of the life forms flickered across the screen of his helmet. Ren dismissed the feed, not needing the distraction.
“It is connected to the power supply, correct?” Ren asked for clarification. Being the embodiment of silence, he kept his voice at a whisper, even though he spoke over the comm link in his helmet.
“Yes,” Zalis answered over the comms.
Keeping in the shadows, they approached the warehouse. The lack of noise disturbed him. No vehicles. No hum of electronics. No people communicating over comms. Silence.
“There should be guards,” Havik said. “Remain here.”
He picked up a chunk of broken pavement and threw it at the side of the building. Glass shattered.
So much for stealth.
No alarm was raised. No guards rushed out. No lights flickered on.
Absolutely no response.
The building had been abandoned by the traffickers. The life forms inside were captives. He’d bet his tusks on it.
“Enough with caution,” Ren said, rushing for the door. He threw his weight against it, the old wood splintering and giving way.
Overhead lights flickered, casting a sickly glow.
Cages.
Stacked high, cages created a maze through the building. Filth, soured water, and rotten food lined the bottom of the cages. They varied in sizes, some for small animals and some large enough for a person if you did not particularly care about the person’s comfort. Occasionally, a scrap of fabric caught Ren’s eye, a rare splotch of color in the gloom. Worse still, a child’s toy.
A stuffed creature with excessively long ears hung from a cage. Gray from wear and mostly devoid of its stuffing, it dangled there as if it caught in the act of escaping.
Ren pulled it free. The poor thing nearly fell apart in his hands, but at least it was free from captivity.
Broken flooring tiles were scattered across the floor. Unglued, the tiles shuffled and whispered as warriors stalked forward.
The path split.
“This way.” Havik pointed to the path on the left.
“I want to burn this place to the ground,” Zalis said with such vehemence that it shocked Ren. Zalis was like a mountain or some other natural wonder—unavoidable, lurking, quiet, and also tranquil.
The narrow path opened into a clearing.
A female sat tied to a chair.
“Don’t come any closer!” she warned.
He recognized her in an instant. Identical, his mate had said, but that was incorrect. His mate was moonlight; this female had a warmer tone, as if spun from sunlight.
Gemma.
