‘Shut up,’ said Asgard.
They walked down the stairs and came to a service door at the bottom. Ethan tried the handle; it was locked. He touched the metal plate, heard a soft click, and opened the entrance.
Bare concrete replaced linoleum on the other side. Harsh light from fluorescent strips showed exposed pipes and cables running along the ceiling and the tops of the cinder-block walls. A faint rumble rose above the hiss of steam from the ductworks as they approached an intersection.
The vibration travelled through the soles of Ethan’s boots. ‘Incinerator?’
‘Yeah,’ murmured Asgard. ‘And generators.’
They turned the corner and bumped into someone.
‘Whoa there, big fella!’ said the man Asgard had collided with.
The stranger staggered back a step. He looked to be in his fifties and was wearing grease-streaked overalls. A tag inscribed with the name “Jim Hernandez” was pinned over his heart.
His brow furrowed when he registered their uniforms. ‘What are you—?’
‘You the caretaker?’ said Ethan.
The man straightened. ‘Why, yes. What I want to—’
‘Sorry about this,’ said Asgard.
He punched the guy in the face.
Jim Hernandez went down like a brick. They carried him to a janitor’s closet, wrapped a couple of cable ties around his wrists and ankles, covered his mouth with the duct tape they found inside a tool box, and locked him inside.
They found the first storage room at the end of the corridor.
Ethan manipulated the lock open and flicked the light switches on the wall. ‘Oh boy.’
Rows of shelves stacked with brown boxes stretched out before them. They filled the entire floorspace and rose all the way to the ceiling.
Asgard walked to the closest one and touched the side of a carton. ‘At least they’re labeled. Let’s start with December 2009.’
It took half an hour for them to realize that the information they were after was not there. They hadn’t found any evidence of army research experiments having been carried out at Fort Huachuca either.
Ethan’s heart sank. ‘There’s another storage room on the other side of the basement.’
They made their way to the second chamber and found a similar layout to the first room. They found the right section and started to go through the boxes on the shelves.
‘There are several cartons missing from here,’ said Asgard some time later.
Ethan turned from the row he was inspecting and joined the Bastian noble. He frowned when he saw the boxes Asgard was staring at. The numbers on the labels did not follow the expected sequence they’d observed so far and showed at least four missing containers.
Could this be it?
Asgard ran his hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Looks like there’s nothing here after all. Damn! What a waste of a trip.’
‘There might be a receipt or a transfer slip,’ said Ethan.
He grabbed the end box. Asgard lifted the other one reluctantly.
They found a piece of paper at the bottom of the second carton.
‘“Containers 111641-111644 transferred to Building 4489, US Army Facility Yuma Proving Ground,”’ Ethan read out.
Excitement flared through him. It died in the next moment as he reread the address. He looked at Asgard and saw the same anxiety dawn in the immortal’s eyes. They had both heard of the Yuma base. It was one of the largest army installations in the world.
They put the boxes back, left the room, and exited the hospital through the fire door at the end of the basement. No one stopped them as they strolled to the sedan. Ten minutes later, they were headed north on State Route 90 back up to Tucson. Asgard waited until they hit the interstate highway before ringing the hospital.
‘There’s a man locked up in the janitor’s closet in your basement,’ he said curtly and disconnected.
Ethan frowned at the road. They were passing through the west end of the city of Benson. A scattering of one-story buildings dotted the desert plains to the right.
‘Yuma is big,’ he said grimly. He glanced at Asgard. ‘Too big for just the two of us to handle.’
A guarded expression dawned on the Bastian noble’s face. ‘What are you saying?’
Ethan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. ‘I’m saying we need help, Asgard. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think it’s time for us to—’
The pain came from nowhere, stabbing through his chest and causing him to lose his breath. Ethan doubled over, tears flooding his eyes. His world went white and a dull ringing filled his ears.
He felt the sedan lurch across the asphalt and heard Asgard’s muted curse. Unseen hands snatched the steering wheel from his grip. Horns blared in the background, the sounds muffled. Gravel rattled under the carriage and the sedan came to an abrupt stop. The belt dug into Ethan’s chest as he jerked forward and slammed back into the seat. He heard Asgard shout his name.
Sound and sight returned in a dizzying rush. Ethan gazed dazedly at the traffic speeding past his window. Asgard had pulled over in a lay-by.
The Bastian noble grabbed his shoulders and shook him. ‘Hey, stay with me!’
Ethan blinked and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. His heart thundered inside his chest like he’d run a marathon and his breaths came in hard, fast pants. Underscoring the frantic beats was a searing ache that made him want to weep.
‘It’s Olivia,’ he mumbled in a choked voice.
Asgard froze beside him.
Ethan turned his head and stared at the immortal, a single tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. ‘Something’s happened to her.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ethan stood in the doorway to Olivia’s room and stared at the bed where they had made love less than twelve hours ago. White down and debris littered the floor and the sheets. Moonlight streamed through the broken windows and showed the bullet holes in the walls and ceiling. He turned with a heavy heart and headed downstairs.
The safe house was a scene of devastation. From the empty shells on the ground and the blast damage outside, it seemed the enemy’s attempt to take the place had been met with fierce resistance. They’d found blood on the rear deck and the beach. There was also a large collection of bloody footprints inside the boat.
Ethan found Asgard standing on the terrace. He was staring at the vessel sitting lopsidedly on its keel halfway up the beach, where it looked to have been dragged. His hands were fisted at his sides.
‘That’s where they shot her?’
Ethan hesitated. ‘Yes.’ A strange numbness had replaced the agony filling his soul. The only time he recalled experiencing such a crippling feeling was the day he lost his family, all those years ago. ‘Jonah must have taken them to Yuma.’
Asgard remained silent.
‘You know what you have to do,’ said Ethan after a while.
This time, Asgard turned and looked at him, a muscle jumping in his cheek.
‘We need to at least try,’ Ethan added, an edge of steel coating his words. ‘Irrespective of my powers and your abilities as a Hunter, the two of us can’t take on an entire army base.’
He handed the satellite phone to Asgard.
The Bastian noble stared at it as if it were a snake. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Ethan saw bitter resignation in their depths. He took the phone and dialed a number.
Ethan waited quietly, tension coursing through his limbs. It was half a minute before the call was answered.
‘This is Asgard Godard. I need to speak to Victor Dvorsky.’
Awareness returned slowly, sound and sensation ebbing and flowing in gentle, eerie waves. Olivia floated on a giant white cloud and let the currents carry her, content to lose herself in her strangely calm surroundings.
The pain struck without warning, a hammer driving straight into the middle of her chest. She cried out, eyes slamming open, her vi
sion blurring with tears. Her voice sounded shockingly weak to her ears.
A white ceiling appeared overhead. Olivia squinted at the bright lights shining down on her.
Ice formed in her veins when she registered the equipment beside the bed she lay on. A monitor beeped steadily to the right, its colorful screen showing her vitals. The high-pitched tone speeded up slightly as her heart rate increased. Next to it was a bag of clear fluid hanging from a metal stand. She followed the plastic tubing leading from the bottom of the pump to the intravenous line in the crook of her right elbow. A rack holding several infusion syringes hung on the other side of the bed, the various lines connecting to another intravenous access in her left elbow. An invisible machine hummed behind her head, the steady throb sending faint vibrations through the firm surface beneath her. She felt the prick of needles in her scalp.
She moved to sit up and found she couldn’t. Her breaths came in rapid pants and the pain in her chest returned ten-fold at the effort it took to merely lift her head off the bed. She curled her fingers into fists and felt something dig into her skin. Her gaze traveled down the length of the gurney to the thick leather straps binding her wrists and ankles. She made out the shape of a dressing on her chest, underneath the plain hospital gown covering her body.
An alarm went off as her pulse rocketed, panic squeezing air out of her lungs. She squirmed and kicked feebly against the restraints.
‘Now, now, there’s no need for that. The straps are there to keep you safe,’ boomed a loud voice, startling her. ‘Besides, you wouldn’t want to re-open your wound. You just had major surgery to get that bullet out. You were lucky. Our sniper missed your heart by an inch.’
Olivia’s frantic gaze skimmed past the speakers at the edges of the ceiling to the glass window opposite the end of the bed. Her mouth went dry at the sight that met her eyes.
There was a laboratory beyond her prison. At least a dozen staff in white coats milled about the vast space, working computers and banks of complex machines. Armed soldiers stood near a pair of steel doors set in a distant breeze-block wall.
A female scientist glanced at her briefly before talking to her colleague. They chatted animatedly about something on the screen before them.
Olivia found her gaze drawn to a man who stood watching her silently from the other side of the partition. He was tall and of solid build, with ice-blue eyes, dark hair peppered with gray, and a beard. She stiffened.
Although she had never seen a picture of Jonah Krondike, she knew she was looking at the immortal who had destroyed her and Ethan’s families. He raised his hand and examined a small metal object lying in his palm.
Anger blossomed inside her when she recognized the locket that had been bequeathed to her by her parents.
He laid the casing on a table and strolled closer to the wall. ‘It’s remarkable how much like your mother you look.’
Trepidation fluttered through her. She scanned the room behind him, searching for Madeleine and Howard.
‘If you’re looking for your friends, they’re not here,’ said Krondike.
Olivia tried not to show her relief. Krondike’s words implied that her companions were still alive. Her thoughts flitted briefly to Ethan and her uncle.
Do they know what happened at the chalet? Are they there, right now, wondering where we are?
Grief almost overcame her then. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. I have to be strong. They will come for us!
She flexed her fingers and reached deep inside her mind. Her gaze returned to the immortal on the other side of the glass. ‘What do you want?’
‘It’s quite simple, really,’ said Krondike. A faint smile curved his lips. ‘I desire your powers.’
Another alarm sounded inside the room. Olivia heard a rising buzz from the machine behind her at the same time that electronic whirrs echoed from the syringe pumps connected to her arms. The numbers on the displays increased rapidly.
Several of the scientists gathered excitedly around a bank of computers behind Krondike.
‘Ah.’ The immortal’s gaze never left hers. ‘I see you’re attempting to use your psychokinetic ability.’ His smile turned snake-like.
Olivia’s puzzlement lasted only seconds before agonizing pain ripped through her head and shot down her spine. She arched against the mattress, eyes wide-open and a scream leaving her throat. The pain came again, stronger than before, a river of fire that flooded her mind and body, burning all coherent thought in its path. Every muscle in her body tensed as she jackknifed helplessly off the bed once more, unable to control the reflexes governing her spine. She heard a low crack as her jaw locked in spasm.
Krondike’s voice reached her dimly through the loud ringing in her ears. ‘That’s right, little girl. Your powers won’t work. Not with the drugs we’re pumping into your body and the machine attached to your head.’ His tone was chilly, unfeeling. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that the chemicals we’re injecting you with are used by the military and various intelligence agencies when they want to extract information from their most valuable assets. The side-effects tend to be…unpleasant.’ He paused. ‘The device currently delivering electric shocks to your body is a special treat of mine. I had it made just for you.’
Olivia tasted blood on her tongue; she’d bitten the inside of her cheek. The pain became a constant, pulsing presence behind her eyes. Waves of black swam across her vision. Numbness bloomed along her limbs as her senses shut down in protest. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus on controlling her clenched muscles.
She might as well have tried to touch the moon. The shadows clouding her eyes intensified. This time, Olivia welcomed the darkness that folded her in its arms.
Ethan’s nails dug into his palms until he drew blood.
Asgard glanced at him. ‘What’s wrong?’
The Crovir noble kept his gaze focused on the sky. ‘Nothing.’
The paralyzing headache that had gripped him for the last five minutes finally started to ease. He blinked and inhaled shakily.
Ethan saw no point in worrying Asgard further. He knew the feelings he was experiencing belonged to Olivia. He tried not to dwell on the suffering their enemy was inflicting on the woman who now meant the whole world to him. To do so would mean losing his mind.
A light breeze blew across the tarmac and ruffled his hair and clothes, bringing a whiff of diesel.
They’d parked the Jeep at the end of a row of private hangars occupying the northwest sector of the Sacramento Executive Airport. It had been seventeen hours since Asgard had rang the most powerful immortal in Bastian society to ask for help.
A white dot appeared on the horizon, a speck among the larger bodies trailing the skies on their way in and out of Sacramento International to the north. It grew rapidly in size and took the shape of a sleek, twin-jet aircraft. Sunlight sparkled on the wings beneath the engines as it angled toward the runway.
Ethan felt Asgard stiffen beside him. To his surprise, he saw the Bastian noble look away from the private jet landing on the tarmac. He followed his gaze to the roofline of the closest building. A couple of dark shapes were visible where none had been present before. Ethan caught the glint of sniper rifles. He frowned and looked around.
Two SUVs with blacked-out windows had appeared behind them. He spotted two more snipers lying in a field some three hundred feet to the left.
‘They’re good,’ he said quietly.
Asgard remained silent, his expression flinty.
The aircraft taxied along the runway before turning and heading their way. It rolled to a stop a short distance from where they stood. Ethan examined the elegant contours of the plane and recognized the model as a Gulfstream G450. It was an aircraft Asgard had been itching to fly for some time.
The whine of the jet’s engines died down and was replaced by an expectant hush. The cabin door opened. Steps unfolded to the ground with a faint electronic whirr.
A man stepped out of the aircraft. He was over
six feet tall and sported a slender build beneath his dark suit. The wind stirred his red hair and outlined the bulge of the gun holster beneath his arm. Pale gray eyes inspected the area carefully before coming to rest on Ethan and Asgard. The man turned and spoke to someone inside the plane.
A second figure appeared beside him. This man was almost as tall as the first. Silver streaked his black hair and beard, giving him a distinguished look. His suit was of a finer cut and looked three times as expensive as his companion’s. Dark eyes narrowed under thick eyebrows when he saw Asgard. He walked briskly down the steps and strode across the tarmac toward them, anger evident in the rigid lines of his body. Ethan tensed.
Asgard’s heart twisted with a wave of bittersweet emotions as he watched his oldest rival stop a couple of feet away.
Standing before him was the only immortal he had ever envied in his entire existence. The one who had taken his place in his own father’s heart all those centuries ago.
‘Hello, Victor.’
Victor Dvorsky snarled, drew his arm back, and punched him in the face. ‘You bastard!’
Asgard rocked back on his heels and heard a series of familiar metallic noises above the ringing in his ears.
The Bastian Hunters who’d had them in their sights stared at the twisted remains of their weapons with stunned expressions. A tire came off one of the SUVs and thudded onto the asphalt. The vehicle creaked and sagged lopsidedly on its axle.
The red-haired immortal at Victor’s side pulled out his crumpled gun from under his jacket. ‘What the hell—?’
Asgard turned to Ethan and blinked at the rage flushing the Crovir’s face. The younger man stood braced for battle, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
The Elemental had been pushed to his limits by the events of the last day and was more than ready to snap. Asgard could hardly blame him. He’d felt close to breaking point once or twice himself in the last twenty hours, not just at losing Olivia and Howard to their enemy, but also a certain brunette with blue-gray eyes.
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