Brightan opened his mouth, hand tightening around the fritz, but just before he was about to say something, another burst of sound came from the other end of the hall. He didn’t even have enough time to turn toward it.
One second he was standing in front of her; the next he was a pile of writhing fire. His screams filled the air, and he rolled around, flailing his arms and legs even as the flames spread, consuming him from sight. It was almost a slow burn, the screams lasting far longer than she imagined they would on a normal victim.
Brightan rolled closer to her, and with a yelp she leaped over him and toward Ruckus, practically toppling into his arms.
He pulled her close, backing them even farther away from the still-dying Sworn. Amazingly enough, the rest of the Tellers who’d been attacking them only moments before moved out of their way, their eyes glued to the same horrendous scene.
Delaney’s gaze was suddenly drawn up, away from Brightan, and her breath caught in her throat.
Trystan was staring back at her from the doorway, an odd weapon she’d never seen before in his right hand. It was long, almost like a rifle, and made of a dark black metal. He was holding it down at his side now, but a smoky trail floated upward from the bottom of it. There were over a dozen Kints at his back, yet none of them had their weapons at the ready.
He’d shot Brightan. His right-hand man. He’d barbecued him.
She’d be frowning in confusion if she weren’t still so shocked.
“Come on!” Pettus’s voice pulled them all out of their daze. He was in front of the ship now, frantically waving them through. “Fawna’s all set!”
Ruckus turned and began dragging her away, shoving the Kints who were still too shocked by Brightan’s death to move. He had them halfway to the ship with little to no resistance.
And then all hell broke loose.
“Lissa!” Trystan’s voice cut across the expanse, a loud furious roar that instantly had her heart stopping.
She turned to look at him over her shoulder, but she couldn’t get a great visual because Ruckus didn’t miss a beat. He kept pulling her along, moving faster now that the Zane had spoken.
Trystan called her again, moving across the room, his men doing the same. The ones who were closest to them who had stopped shot back into action, spinning on their heels and dashing after them.
The towering ceiling of the hangar was already in the process of opening up. The metal panes twisted in a circular motion, caving inward toward the wall until the gap there was large enough to fit the massive spacecraft through. The side compartment of the black craft was also lowering, sending down a set of steep stairs for them.
Pettus was already scrambling up them, turning to take aim at the approaching Tellers once he had. He didn’t, however, fire, gritting his teeth in annoyance at having to hold back.
If Trystan was with them and they weren’t Tars, they couldn’t very well go around shooting them. Especially when no one was firing at them, either. The order clearly hadn’t been given, and though they quickened their pace, trying to stop them from boarding, the command never came.
They reached the stairs, and Pettus helped tug her up and through the doorway. The second Ruckus was in as well, he twisted around and slammed a palm against the side panel of the inner ship. The staircase disappeared, and the doors began sliding shut.
Trystan was close now, only ten or so feet away. He shoved his own men aside, calling her title as he went. There was the same anger in his icy blue eyes that she’d seen after Lura’s murder attempt, and she shivered.
Try as she might, she couldn’t tear her gaze off him, though. It was as if he held her trapped, a deer in headlights with no way to break the spell. Part of her wanted to thank him for saving her life yet again, but she couldn’t get any sounds past her lips, and they were out of time.
He must have realized he wouldn’t make it, for he stopped less than three feet away. Staring up at her, unblinkingly, she got the distinct impression he was trying to tell her something.
And whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Even after the doors had fully shut, blocking him and the rest of the hangar out, she could still feel his gaze piercing her soul.
CHAPTER 25
“What are you going to say?” Delaney trailed Ruckus down the familiar white halls of the spaceship. Ironic that she was back where she started. At least this time she’d boarded of her own free will.
“I’ll tell them we assumed it was another Tar attack,” he answered. “Considering they did, in fact, come after us, there’s enough proof for it to be believable. And when Olena returns later today, there’ll be nothing that Trystan can say. She wouldn’t run just to come back within twenty-four hours.”
“What if she gives us up, though?” Delaney was shocked that she hadn’t thought of that sooner. “She’s got to be seriously pissed off at being caught and dragged here. What makes you think she’ll suddenly fall in line and play along?”
He sighed but didn’t stop his descent through the ship. “She’s immature and self-centered, but she’s not a murderer. She knows what will happen to Vakar if she tells the truth.”
“She knows what will happen to her, you mean.”
He pursed his lips. “That, too.”
“Well,” she said, shrugging a shoulder, “if there’s anything I know to be true about her, it’s her knack for self-preservation.” That took care of one problem then. What about the rest?
“Oh, there you guys are!” Gibus turned a corner suddenly, almost slamming into them in the process. Which seemed to be his MO. His lab coat billowed behind him, and his hair was in major disarray. “I’ve been searching the entire ship!”
“I highly doubt that,” Ruckus claimed, moving past him and picking up speed once more, forcing the Sutter to fall into step at Delaney’s side, a pace behind.
“Most of it, anyway,” he admitted, unconcerned at being caught in an overexaggeration. “I managed to grab the device before being rushed off by Pettus, along with a few other things you might end up needing while you’re—”
“We can talk about this later.”
Delaney frowned between the two of them. Why did she get the distinct feeling something was going on here that Ruckus didn’t want her to know about?
“I suppose you’re right,” Gibus agreed absently. “We do have three whole days to go over everything before reaching Earth. Our layover time with the Lissa will only put us behind schedule by twenty minutes, an hour at most.”
“Isn’t an hour a long time? We aren’t switching ships with her, are we?” she asked.
“And trust someone else with mine?” Ruckus said, and grunted. “Not likely. We do have to talk to her, though, see her firsthand and make sure that they got the right girl this time.”
“The device was broken,” Gibus said. “She wouldn’t have been able to reset it. I programmed the prototype to work only the once. If they say they have Olena, it’s really her.”