Navan tried to take flight, but with his injured wing, he couldn’t. He landed heavily on the ground and tried to run, but the ship was upon him. I raced over right as two coldbloods flew out and grabbed Navan. He managed to pull one of the guns from the holster, but one of the coldbloods knocked it from his hand before he could shoot. He tried to fight them off, but they easily overpowered and disarmed him, then threw him onto the ship. It started to lift away, but I lunged at the last second and caught hold of the door, pulling myself in right before one of the coldbloods slammed the door shut.
They threw Navan down on the ground and fell upon him, thrashing him. He fought back, but he was no match for them. I hid underneath a bench, scanning the interior of the ship for something, anything, that I could use to help him. If only I’d had more knives! But the space we were in was almost sterile in its emptiness, and there was nothing, except for my bare hands.
But I couldn’t just sit there.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind did Navan look across the floor toward me. His coldblood senses must have been particularly sharp compared to the others, because he seemed to detect me in spite of the suit. He lifted his head, even as the blows continued to rain down, and looked right at me, shaking his head. It was such a slight gesture it was almost imperceptible, but it came across loud and clear. If I got caught by the coldbloods, they’d kill me, and Navan would be defenseless.
Right now, there was only one choice: I had to stay where I was.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The ship flew through the invisibility shield and landed in front of a bunker that looked like it had been there for centuries. It was a low concrete building with no windows. Jagged cracks like scars ran down the sides of the building. The two coldbloods dragged Navan out, and I scrambled out from under the bench, anxiety coursing through my veins. I followed them into the bunker and down a hallway lit with flickering fluorescent lights.
They kicked open one of the doors off the hallway, which led into a room with nothing but a metal table with a couple chairs, and a bench—much like the one I’d just been hiding under—shoved up against the back wall. They shoved Navan into a chair, one of them tying his hands behind his back with something that looked like red twine, but glistened in such a way that it made me think it had come from something living. I slipped underneath the bench.
“Loser,” one of the coldbloods snapped, and it spat, the globule hitting the side of Navan’s face before it slowly dripped off. Navan didn’t flinch, though; he barely reacted. He stared straight ahead, unmoving, except for his hands, which were behind his back. His hands opened and closed into fists, and I could tell he was straining against the ties, but they weren’t budging.
The two other coldbloods looked toward the door as it opened. A large, imposing figure stood in the doorway for a moment, retracting his enormous black wings so he could fit through. His hair was the color of mud, and his eyes were dark and seemed to reflect the light.
“That’s enough,” he said.
“We can’t stay?” one of the coldbloods asked.
“No.” The big coldblood didn’t even look at them as he pulled the second chair out from the table. He didn’t sit, though; instead, he walked the perimeter of the room, coming to stop right in front of the bench. He was so close, I wouldn’t even need to extend my arm all the way to touch him.
“What is your name?”
Navan stared straight ahead. His lip was split, and a dark bruise was forming on the side of his face.
“Let’s start this a different way,” the coldblood said. “I’ll tell you my name. I am Ezra, and like you, I am originally from Vysanthe. I hope that you will recognize that we can be on the same team here. We can work toward the same objective.” He moved away from the bench and sat down at the table.
“How do you know what I’m working toward?” Navan asked. His voice was low, a throaty growl.
Ezra smiled. “Well, that’s the problem—I can’t completely know what it is you’re working for if you don’t tell me. That’s what this is about right here. Think of it as getting to know each other.”
“What is this—a date?” Navan shook his head. “Not interested, sorry.”
I could tell that Navan was struggling to keep his cool. His look of confusion and anger made it clear he really couldn’t believe there were other coldbloods here. I remembered how adamant Navan had been about keeping Earth a secret for as long as possible, about doing whatever was necessary to prevent the other coldbloods from finding out we were here—yet they’d been here all along.
“What is it you’re doing here?” Ezra asked, leaning forward.
“Sightseeing.”
Ezra took a deep breath. “I’ll ask you again—what is it you’re doing here?”
Navan rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, as if he was going to find the answer there. “I took a wrong turn. I meant to take a left at the Andromeda galaxy and I ended up going right, then I got caught up in a really turbulent plasmapheric wind and was blown right here to Earth.”
“Likely story.”
“If you think I give a damn whether you believe me or not, you are mistaken.”
Part of me wanted to run over to Navan and shake him, tell him to just answer their questions. He didn’t have to tell them everything, but he needed to reveal enough to satisfy them—otherwise, they’d probably kill him. Ezra was being amicable enough right now, but who was to say that wouldn’t change in a second? Who knew when his patience would run out, and if he decided that Navan wasn’t going to give him the information he wanted, what would prevent him from killing him right then and there?
“Look,” Ezra said. “I can understand that you’re not thrilled to be here right now, and that for you to open up, I’m going to have to extend a bit of trust. So again, I’ll go first.”
“You’re acting like I actually care about who you are or what you’re doing here.”
Ezra laughed. “But you do,” he said. “You’re very curious—and quite perplexed—as to what all these coldbloods are doing here on this planet. We found your base in Alaska, you know. We detected irregular frequencies—frequencies that indicated Vysanthian technology. That was our first clue that there was a coldblood here who had arrived on his own, not with the rebel faction, and we sent our shifter allies out there to investigate…and, if necessary, assassinate.”
Navan swallowed. “Rebel faction? You mean the ones that the sisters banished from Vysanthe?”
“The very one. Brisha and Gianne should have done a better job of killing us, but they were too wrapped up in the idea of ruling that they didn’t consider some of the finer details of democracy.”
“Well, democracy would not involve killing dissenters.”
“Ah, but it would. You seem to be a learned fellow—I’d guess a fairly smart one, given that you’ve figured out a formula to camouflage your skin.” He eyed Navan, taking in his human-colored tone. “What democracy isn’t based on bloodshed and tyranny? It’s simply the way things are done. On this planet and every other. And of these innumerable planets, Vysanthe is indisputably superior.”
Navan snorted. “I know some who might disagree.”
“Vysanthe deserves to be united,” Ezra said. “None of this ruler to the south, ruler to the north nonsense. There should be one leader that all of Vysanthe can rally behind. This is not just an individual desire—this is for the greater good.”
“And you’re going to see to that from here . . . how?”
“Our plan has always been to return to Vysanthe, once we regrouped, strengthened our forces, organized our faction. We want everything to go right, the first time.”
“Because it worked out so well for you before.”
“That’s exactly my point. Things didn’t work out so well for those who wished to see democracy on Vysanthe, and so we must be more diligent this time around to ensure that our vision is realized. This takes time, this takes resources. Would you not like to see a united,
peaceful Vysanthe?”
“Of course I would,” Navan replied. “And the probability of that happening is about . . . oh, I don’t know. Zero?”
“The probability is actually much greater than that. The numbers grow in our favor with every individual we recruit to the cause. We are not out to do harm, we are not malicious. Violence is kept to the minimum.”
“Oh yeah? You should tell that to the two thugs who decided to use my face as a punching bag.”
Ezra smiled thinly. “Rey and Xander can be a bit too enthusiastic at times, I admit. They shouldn’t have done that, or they should have at least stopped after they managed to get you aboard the ship. But we’re not here for a philosophical debate, are we? Why don’t you tell me your name.”
“Navan Idrax. My father is Jareth Idrax.”
Ezra did a double take. “Your father is Jareth Idrax? One of Queen Gianne’s advisors? That Jareth Idrax?”
A sour smile appeared on Navan’s face. “He’d be thrilled to know he had such an ardent fan. Yeah, that’s the one. Good old Father. If you let me go, maybe I can get you his autograph.”
I could see Ezra struggling with whether to believe him or not. He steepled his fingers together and stared at Navan. “If that’s true, it makes sense why you’d be skilled with potions… and this really is our lucky day. I’m glad our shifter failed to kill you. Your father would likely go to great lengths to see your safe return… Excuse me a moment,” he said, pushing back the chair from the table and standing up. He exited the room quickly, closing the door behind him.
Now was my chance. I didn’t know how long he’d be gone for, but I slipped out from underneath the bench, pressing the button on the sleeve as I did so. I knew it would’ve been smarter to stay invisible, but I’d looked around and hadn’t seen any cameras. I knew I could talk and he’d hear me, but I wanted him to see me—I didn’t just want to be some disembodied voice he was hearing. I materialized beside him, and he jumped when he saw me.
“Riley!” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to help you get out.”
“Unless you’ve figured out a way to get that invisibility suit to melt metal, you’re not,” he said. “Now, get back into invisible mode before Ezra returns and sees you. We’re in enough trouble here as it is without them realizing there’s a human in the equation, too.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I insisted. “And there’s nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind.” I touched the side of his face. “They hurt you,” I whispered, using my fingertips to wipe away the wet mark where the coldblood had spat on him.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. I heard everything that Ezra said! And did you see the expression on his face when he found out who your father is?”
“How could I miss it? My father’s reputation precedes him, even all the way here on Earth. I wasn’t kidding when I told Ezra how delighted he’d be to find out something like that.”
“I don’t care about your father’s ego! They’re going to try to use you as a pawn, Navan. Did you hear what he said about your father going to great lengths? They don’t really care about you. They’re going to try to get what they want, and if you end up dying in the process, that’s not going to matter to them one bit. So we’ve got to get you out of here.” I bent down and tried to untie him, but it was like the knots had fused over; there was nothing to grab onto, nothing to untie.
“You’re wasting your time.” Navan sighed. “You can’t untie it.”
“What the hell is it?”
“It’s inselo gut.”
I stood up. “It’s what?”
“It’s the cured intestine from an inselo. It’s an animal like a leopard seal. If they cure it a certain way, with a special binding potion, it becomes a ‘live wire,’ which means it’s only unlockable by the person who cured it. Which I’m assuming is Ezra.”
“How am I supposed to get you out, then? What should I do?” I glanced at the door, which was still firmly shut. I looked back at Navan.
He looked exhausted, and it tore me up on the inside. “If they’re going to use me as a pawn, then they need to keep me alive. So maybe take some comfort in that. But if they find you—who knows what they’ll do to you.” He shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it. You need to press that button and get invisible again. And then stay hidden. They very well might have the technology to detect you, and if they do, there’s not much I can do to help you.”
“I’m going to figure out a way to get you out of here,” I promised. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m going to.”
We looked at each other, neither of us saying anything for a moment, then another. The air around us grew thick, and I suddenly felt a magnetic force drawing me to him.
“You need to press that button,” Navan repeated.
“I will,” I whispered. “But… first, I need to do this.”
The words came out of my mouth without my brain fully registering them; it felt as if something had taken over my body and was propelling me forward, though there was nothing more I wanted in that moment. We were here, prisoners, but all I could think about was kissing him. If I was honest with myself, I’d wanted to do it for a while, but I’d held back because I’d been afraid, because I thought there might be a chance that he’d just laugh and push me away. There was still a small part of me that harbored that fear, but it was eclipsed by a bigger fear—that one—or both—of us wouldn’t make it out of here alive. I put my hands on his shoulders and leaned down, my face right against his, our lips just millimeters from touching.
He inhaled slowly. “What a time for my hands to be tied behind my back,” he said softly.
My entire body felt electrified when our lips finally touched, and I breathed in his scent, one of my hands going around the back of his head, as though I could pull him even closer to me. The other rested against the side of his cool face, my fingertips running lightly along the taut skin of his stubbled jawline. His mouth responded to mine hungrily—so much so that it took me aback. His tongue parted my lips, and I felt his desire for me with its every stroke, his every hitched breath.
As his firm lips caressed mine, I felt myself light up, my body feeling weightless. He was kissing me back, burning for me just as much as I was for him, and I mentally kicked myself for not allowing myself a taste of this sooner, for delaying it so long.
Everything seemed to fall away. Nothing else mattered. I let that kiss completely consume me. We were prisoners trapped in this bunker, but the rush of happiness that flooded through me made my heart feel like it was going to explode. Kissing him was like coming home, like arriving at the very place I’d always wanted to be but had been unable to find until now. I would have been content to stay there forever, but Navan finally pulled back, his eyes still half-closed, an anguished expression on his face.
“We’ve got to stop,” he whispered, groaning. “Believe me when I say it’s the last thing I want to do.” He tilted his head and we kissed again. “But we’ve got to.” His lips moved lightly against mine as he spoke. “You need to be safe. Please. If you end up getting caught, we won’t be able to do this again.”
It felt as though I was being torn in two. I knew he was right, that I needed to activate the invisibility suit again, that I needed to hide because who knew when Ezra or another coldblood might come back into the room? But the thought of having to leave Navan was unbearable.
“Riley.” He had pulled back and was looking straight into my eyes. “Please. Press the button and hide.”
“Okay,” I breathed. I pressed my lips to his once more, savoring the feel of him for what I prayed would not be the last time.
Then I pulled back and pushed the button on my arm, activating the suit. My heart pounding, I slid back underneath the bench I’d been under, right as the doorknob turned and Ezra, along with another coldblood that I hadn’t seen before, re-entered the room.
“This is Jareth’s
son,” Ezra was saying. My brain was still locked on Navan’s and my kiss, and I had to force myself to focus on his words, bring myself back to the scene around me.
This new coldblood was taller, and more refined-looking, except he had a deep scar running down the side of his face, right below his eye to the corner of his mouth. His eyes were almost completely black. He didn’t look much older than Ezra, but there was something about him that emanated an ancient aura.
“An even better development than we could have hoped for,” he said, eyeing Navan, whose expression was a combination of awe and wariness. Did Navan know him? They clearly knew Navan’s father, and the way Navan was looking at him made me think that he knew who this guy was, too. “You’ve got a role to play in all this, son. You’ll be an important bargaining chip.” He made like he was going to tousle Navan’s hair or pat his head, but then he froze, his hand hovering in the empty air. His eyes swiveled around, and he tilted his head back, sniffing the air. His gaze landed on the bench, a slow smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
“What is it?” Ezra asked.
The smile on the coldblood’s face grew, exposing a pair of sharp, white fangs. I tried to flatten myself against the back wall as best I could. “Someone else is here,” he said.
Ready for the next part of Riley and Navan’s story?
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