By the time Navan was finished, the lycan was frowning, his expression unnervingly difficult to interpret. The look he was giving Navan could be either disbelief or deep thought.
“That shapeshifter who took Navan’s friend hostage in order to follow us,” I ventured, wanting to break the quiet that had descended, “was he an ally of the Fed? Was he working for you?”
The lycan’s eyes switched to me, and he barked out a dry laugh. “Absolutely not. We would no sooner work with shapeshifters than we would with coldbloods. Dishonest, conniving creatures.”
I felt some of the blood leave my face as I glanced over at Navan. “Then who was he?” Why had he been waiting in Navan’s bunker, and why was he following us? Had it been the shifters who somehow discovered Navan’s lair, and stolen all his equipment?
Navan looked confused and disturbed by my question, but he pushed it aside, as we came to the crux of the matter. “So will you help me fix my ship or not?” he asked. The Fed might not have his tools after all, but Navan had seemed sure that they’d at least have their own advanced tech that could help.
The lycan looked away and stood up, before prowling up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “The problem is,” he began, and my stomach instantly dropped at his cold tone. “I have no idea if anything you have told me can be trusted. It all sounds very urgent and life threatening, but I’ve never come across a coldblood in my life who wasn’t a scheming bastard.” He paused and looked at Navan. “That’s the downside of belonging to a race as sadistic and depraved as yours, you see. Everyone always expects an ulterior motive.”
“Please,” I urged. “You’re wrong—he isn’t like the others, I promise. Why would I be helping him if he wasn’t acting for the benefit of my kind?”
“He could be blackmailing you, and you could be an exceptional actress.” He rolled his eyes. “You could even be a shapeshifter, for all I know, who decided to ally with a coldblood.”
I exhaled in frustration. “So, what? You’re going to dismiss everything we’ve told you? Aren’t the risks far greater if you don’t help us?”
The lycan returned to his seat, and gave the two of us a considering look. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t help you—that decision isn’t even up to me. But given that we have limited resources, which are stretched to the max at this current time, my job is to gauge the truth of information that is presented to me, before relaying it to my superiors for consideration.
“While our usual response to a coldblood would be to shoot him through the head, I admit that what you’ve told me is concerning, if true. It could also be designed to lead us up the garden path—perhaps even put some of our agents into danger. So, before I even consider relaying your information to our chief, I need to be damned sure of your intentions. As a bloodsucker, you’d better expect to jump through some hoops.”
“We’re telling the truth,” Navan said. “So we’ll do what you ask.”
The lycan breathed in, leaning back thoughtfully in his chair, and then stood up again. “Wait here.”
With that, he moved to the door and left the room.
“I can’t believe this,” I said, unable to keep the frustration from my voice. I was painfully aware of the seconds ticking by, that little pod containing my blood drifting ever closer to Vysanthe. We didn’t have time to be doubted!
Navan, while clearly annoyed, didn’t seem all that surprised by the lycan’s response. “Like he said, it’s what I get for being a coldblood,” he replied. “He’s right not to trust my word. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t trust me either.”
I flinched at his self-deprecation, knowing that it couldn’t be easy to be judged like that—to be discriminated against purely on the basis of his physical appearance—in spite of how much he was risking for Earth’s benefit. It made me want to reach out and touch his shoulder, reassure him that I knew he was a good man, but I refrained, since if there was one thing I had detected about Navan in the brief time I’d known him, it was that he didn’t seek sympathy.
The lycan reentered the room carrying a black folder filled with documents, which he dropped on the floor in front of Navan.
“I’m going to give you an opportunity to prove your intentions with action,” the lycan announced. “A little task that will help me buy into your motivation. Now… on the subject of shapeshifters, it’s coincidental that you happened to run into one. We have reason to believe that there has been a recent infestation of them here on Earth, in spite of Earth being forbidden territory to them—the Fed made that clear decades ago.
“This folder contains evidence suggesting that the shapeshifters have established—or are in the process of establishing—an organized base here. Their motives are yet unknown. What I’m asking you to do, with the help of these files, is two things: one, uncover the coordinates of their base, and two, gauge an approximation of the base’s size. We want an estimation of how many shapeshifters we’re up against. Then, you will report these two pieces of intel back to me. Fairly straightforward.”
Navan paled. “That is no small task, lycan. It’s going to take time to uncover their base, given their camouflage abilities, and that’s the one thing we don’t have—time. Not to mention there’s no guarantee I’ll return alive. Until a few hours ago, we were being hunted by one with a clear intent to murder.”
“It won’t necessarily take a lot of time—it depends on how smart you are,” the lycan replied, “but I’m not saying it will be easy. We will equip you with weapons and equipment, however, which will lessen the risk, as well as provide guidance in the form of these files. Either way, if you want to gain our trust, these are our terms. If you succeed, I assure you that our chief will be much more likely to take a chance on you, and trust what you have to say.”
Navan glanced down at the folder for a moment, then exhaled, his breath uneven. “Okay. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get you to listen. But in addition to providing me with equipment, you also need to return my bag to me.”
“That is not a problem,” the lycan replied, and I realized only now that Navan didn’t have his bag with him. It must have been confiscated when we were in the helicopter.
Navan nodded curtly, though the concern in his eyes remained, setting my nerves on edge.
The lycan gave him a brief, wolfish smile, then rubbed his hands together. “Then let’s get moving.”
Chapter Twenty
I didn’t have a chance to exchange another word with Navan before the lycan called two guards into the room. They pulled bags over our heads, then escorted us out, back through the hallway, into the lobby area, through the sliding doors and into the chilly air. As I was once again lofted into a fireman’s lift, I realized we were heading back to the aircraft.
“What about the bag and the equipment?” I heard Navan ask tensely.
“Don’t worry,” the interrogator lycan’s voice replied, and I realized that he had caught up to walk alongside us. “I have already arranged that.”
As we reached the stairs to the aircraft, I couldn’t help but wonder again where this HQ was located. I wished I could’ve caught a glimpse of our surroundings before I was carried into the aircraft and sat back down on a bench.
“Where are we going?” I asked, as Navan sat beside me.
“Remote Siberia,” the interrogator replied. “They’ve been swiping humans from villages in a certain area for several months now, so it’s quite clear they have some affiliation with it.”
“Wait, swiping humans?” I asked, alarmed. “You never told us that’s what they’re doing.” I hadn’t really considered till now why the shapeshifters were such a nuisance in the Fed’s eyes, but now it made perfect sense.
“That’s because everything you need to know is included in the folder.”
“Why do you think they’re taking humans?” I bit my tongue before I could add, Isn’t that something coldbloods would do? There was enough tension between Navan and the lycans as it was.
“We suspect it’s for their flesh, though we don’t know for sure yet. You’re going to help us find out.”
I sighed and leaned back, resting my head against the aircraft’s cool metal wall.
A door clattered open at the back of the ship, followed by the sound of something heavy being loaded into it. I turned my head in the direction of the noise, and the interrogator explained, “That’s all your equipment being loaded, as promised.”
I then heard his footsteps retreating, out of the aircraft and down the stairs. A moment later he called out, “You’re ready to go. Good luck. Perhaps we will be seeing you again soon.”
His last sentence lingered ominously as I heard the hatch close. A minute later, the aircraft rose, then launched forward, picking up speed.
“When will you take these bags off our heads?” I asked.
“Once we’re an unrecognizable distance from our headquarters,” the guard replied tersely, and I huffed, sealing my lips.
Navan was being exceptionally quiet, and I sensed his nerves, coiled like a spring. But I couldn’t think of much to say to break the tense silence, since at least one guard remained in our compartment, and I didn’t feel comfortable with him listening in.
So I sat and waited, bored out of my mind with nothing to look at, for what felt like an hour. After that, the guard approached us and removed our bags, which made things more tolerable. I looked at the guard first as he resumed his seat opposite us. He was wearing a mask, concealing all but his tangerine-colored eyes. Then I looked at Navan, who was staring straight ahead at the wall opposite him, his jaw clenched. He glanced at me, doing a once over as if to check that I was okay, and then resumed staring at the wall, making it clearer than ever that he was in no mood to talk. And to my disappointment, there were no windows in our compartment, so all I had to look at for the next several hours of the journey was the bare interior of the chamber.
I breathed out in relief when we finally began descending, and on touching down, the guard removed our handcuffs.
The hatch opened and a waft of icy air engulfed me, leaving me shivering. Climbing down the stairs, I realized we had landed atop a snowy cliff, which overlooked miles of forests, fields, and several small settlements clustered at varying intervals around us. It was evening, the sun setting in the distance.
I groaned, not looking forward to freezing my butt off again. I had been appreciating the milder temperatures since we left Alaska. I guessed shapeshifters had a penchant for the cold like coldbloods, given the first one we’d come across hanging around in Navan’s Alaskan bunker… It was still sinking in that the old homeless man I had taken pity on had been a shapeshifter all along. And the question still swirled in my head: Why?
I shook the thoughts aside as Navan reached the bottom of the stairs. The guard led us around the back of the ship, where Navan’s bag was waiting on the ground, along with, to my surprise, some kind of small flying contraption. It reminded me of a mini jet, about eleven feet in length, and narrow, with a tiny cockpit that didn’t look like it could hold more than two or three people.
I got my coat out of Navan’s bag, wrapping it around me while the guard opened up a compartment at the back of the ship, which was about big enough for one fully grown man to lie curled up inside. Within it was a metal toolbox, with an array of equipment—guns and other survival gear, including a tough metal wire, rope, candles, a gas stove, a thick sleeping bag, and knives. The folder was also there, but there was no food, though I noted they had provided some rubles in a plastic bag that I could use to buy food in one of the villages. I knew Navan would be okay, too, now that he had his bag of vials.
“This is the standard pack we issue our agents—you can use or discard what you will,” the guard explained. Navan and I gathered around him as he picked up one of the guns, what looked like a silver long-barreled pistol. “I trust you know how to use these,” he said, looking at Navan, who nodded. “There are bullets here.” The guard set down the gun and gestured to a side compartment. He then slipped his hand into a second side compartment and pulled out a beige, skin-tight suit that looked like it was made of silicon. “You have one of these, and it may come in use. It must be worn under the clothes, and, when activated”—he tapped an odd little button-shaped bump on the right wrist of the suit—“it will allow the wearer to become invisible. It’s expensive technology, so be sure to take care of it.”
I stared at the suit in awe, and I couldn’t deny I was eager to try it out. I also wondered what other mind-blowing technology this supernatural organization had stowed away.
“And this ship,” Navan said, his eyes traveling along the length of it. “You’re lending this to me?”
“You need somewhere to store all the equipment, and it will also serve as a shelter at night. It’s not powerful enough to launch you into space, so don’t even try—it’s only designed for Earth’s atmosphere. And don’t bother trying to run off with it. It’s fitted with a tracker, and we will be able to locate it easily.”
Navan nodded. “Understood.”
“If you have any questions as to its functioning, I suggest you ask me now.”
Navan walked to the cockpit and pulled open the side door. He seated himself behind the controls and examined them for a moment, before pushing gears and pressing buttons. A minute or two later, he’d successfully managed to bring it to life, and began to hover it in the air.
Navan’s eyes were wide as he gazed around the interior of the aircraft. “This is… astonishingly simple to navigate,” he said. “Clearly, your tech is very much advanced compared to ours.”
The lycan grunted, and then glanced back toward the main ship, apparently impatient to head off. “The control board is equipped with a communication device,” he said. “It’ll allow you to contact our HQ, should there be an emergency. Otherwise, I believe you’re set. Whatever happens, we’ll send out an agent to check back here in three days, same time, same place. I suggest you get to studying those files now, perhaps get a bit of sleep, and then set off to begin scouting in the early morning.”
Navan lowered the aircraft back on the snow. “Very well.”
The lycan nodded and turned, hurrying back into the main ship, and a moment later, it was rising, then zooming forward at an alarming speed, confirming my suspicion that it was no ordinary helicopter. I stared after it as it became a small dot in the sky, and then looked at Navan, sucking in a deep breath of the frigid air.
“So, we’re alone again,” I said, and gave him a small smile, attempting to lighten the mood even a little.
“Under different circumstances, I’d be thrilled to hear that,” Navan replied. His eyes were on the ship, though, and I could tell that part of him really was in awe of the thing. “And we’ve now somehow found ourselves tracking shapeshifters.” He seated himself in the cockpit, shoving the bag behind him and placing the folder on his lap. “You ready to get reading?”
I lowered myself into the passenger seat and closed the door.
“Actually,” he said, the second I had shut myself inside. “Let me rephrase that: Are you ready to go back to Texas or New York? Your choice.” He patted the control panel. “At least you’ll show up in style.”
I stared at him. “What?”
The idea of returning home and leaving Navan to deal with all this alone had not even occurred to me. To be fair, it was a logical option. Probably even a sensible one. Of what use would I be to Navan out here, as a human girl? We’d already made contact with the Fed, which was what he’d said he needed me for initially. Yet, every fiber of my being rejected the notion, and I realized that I simply cared too much to abandon this mission—and him—now.
“I’m not dragging you into this, Riley,” he said. “No way. You’ve done your part. Mission accomplished. Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you. I mean it.”
“Well, thanks for the compliment, but it’s not over yet. I’m not just going to leave you.”
“You are,” he rep
lied. “Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be. If you won’t tell me where you want to go, I’ll choose for you. So . . . what’ll it be? Texas or New York?”
“Neither. I’m staying here.”
He sighed. “Then I’ll choose.” He pressed some buttons and then the ship lifted off the ground. I jumped up and yanked the door open and leapt out, falling the three or four feet to the ground. I rose to my feet and shook myself off, then crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at Navan through the open door as he lowered the ship.
“Are you crazy?” he exclaimed. “You could’ve hurt yourself! Get back in here and stop being stubborn.”
“You can’t force me to go back,” I shot back. “Besides, it’s dumb. We’re here, all the way in freaking Siberia, and you’re proposing to fly me all the way back to the US, and then come back? The Fed are tracking this aircraft—don’t you think they’ll find it weird if you immediately take off in literally the opposite direction? They’ll think you’re trying to make some kind of escape attempt with their equipment and come hunting you down, and then you’ll have no hope of…”
I trailed off as Navan leapt out of his seat. He stalked around the ship toward me, and I spread my feet, digging them deeper into the snow while eyeing him warily, unsure of what he was going to do.
He stopped in front of me, a frown creasing his face. “While I appreciate your concern, if the Fed finds the behavior suspicious, they’ll attempt to comm with me first. I’ll explain I decided to take you back home—given that they didn’t offer to do it for me—and I’ll be returning to Siberia post haste. I really don’t want to have to drag you back onto the ship kicking and screaming, okay? That’s not who I am. But I’m not letting you get yourself into anymore danger than you’ve already been in.”
Before I could reply, Navan’s comm device started beeping in his bag. He exhaled and whirled around, striding back to the ship to get it. He ripped out the device and held it to his ear.
Hotbloods Page 19
