Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)

“Yes, perhaps I will make you my advisor on the subject,” she said, a strange smile curving up the corners of her lips. Nearby, Aurelius shook his head. Clearly, he wasn’t into the idea of Navan stepping into his shoes. “Oh, and I do hope you know where the main rebel base is, somewhere in that pretty little head of yours, considering the fate of your comrades is still uncertain. I may not keep them around long enough to gather anything useful,” she added, tapping Navan’s temple precisely where the blade had been about to pierce.

“They are your loyal servants, Your Highness,” Navan assured her, a pleading note in his voice. I understood why. If any of the Asterope crew were killed, Orion’s suspicions would likely be aroused, and that would signal pain and suffering, if not certain death, for me. I didn’t know how exactly Orion would know if something had gone wrong—whether he was relying solely on one of our teammates reporting back to him, or he had some other trick up his sleeve—but I was sure he had his ways, and I wasn’t about to underestimate him.

“At this moment in time, I can only offer freedom to the pair of you. Take it or leave it,” she retorted. “I will decide on your comrades at my leisure.”

“Please, Your Highness, take my word that they are as loyal to you as any of your most-trusted citizens. They are as loyal to you as my father—I would ask that you reconsider. There is so much they can tell you.”

“You will have to tell it to me, if I decide to do away with them,” Queen Gianne replied tersely. “Now, do you want your freedom or not? I don’t have all day.”

Navan glanced at me, our eyes meeting. I wanted him to refuse her offer—one for all, all for one—but I wasn’t really sure we had a choice. Testing the queen’s patience didn’t seem like a good idea, given that Navan was still sitting in a torture chair, and from the resigned expression on his face, he seemed to think so too.

“We accept your generosity, Your Highness,” he murmured.

“Then go, before I change my mind,” she said crisply. “Aurelius, be a dear and help Navan out of his chair—then show them to one of our nicest state rooms,” she called out. The wizened old man acquiesced, then followed us out into the hallway.

For a moment, the paranoid half of me thought it was a trap, but as we entered the corridor, there was nobody to shove us around or arrest us again. There was only Aurelius behind us, ready to take us to the room that Queen Gianne had promised.





Chapter Eighteen





From the rock-hewn labyrinth of the cave’s underbelly, Aurelius ushered us onto a bullet train that was waiting on a platform, the carriages empty.

As I sat beside Navan, the engine thrumming to life beneath us, my mind drifted toward thoughts of Queen Gianne—was she interrogating the rest of our group right at this very moment, coming to her “conclusions” about their loyalty? What if it was bad news?

The negativity was forced out of my mind a moment later as the bullet train took off, racing through a network of tunnels so fast that everything beyond the small windows was a blur. I could feel the skin of my cheeks pulling backward, as though I were on a rollercoaster, my body being knocked from side to side and pushed back against my seat as the bullet train zipped around corners and zig-zagged through tricky terrain.

It slowed as we approached an imposing building that was cut into the side of another mountain. Lights glowed in the windows that had been carved into the rock, the radiance oddly comforting to my human eyes amid all the icy gloom that surrounded us.

We came to a standstill at another platform, where a few weary-looking coldbloods stood waiting, faces lit up in surprise at the sight of Aurelius in the front carriage. Apparently, he was something of a celebrity in these parts—no doubt because of his association with Queen Gianne.

Aurelius pushed Navan and me through the small crowd and into what looked like a service corridor, tucked away behind the banal structure of a ticket office. He hurried us down it, bringing us to an elevator at the very end. When he pressed the top button, the elevator instantly whizzed upward, my knees feeling even weaker beneath the pressure that swarmed in around me, threatening to crush me. Everything was more extreme here, I was beginning to realize—no wonder the coldbloods had tougher skin, and muscles as hard as concrete.

At least here, in this mountain, it was warmer. I had stopped shivering once we’d stepped off the bullet train, but I could feel gusts of icy wind blowing in through the thin gaps in the elevator doors, making me think we were shooting up the outside of the mountain structure.

When the doors pinged open, we had arrived at a circular foyer, with several rooms leading off from the central space. Aurelius led us up to one of the doors and unlocked it, before gesturing for us to head inside.

“You will be locked in, for now. Queen Gianne will decide if you will be permitted a key,” Aurelius explained curtly, evidently displeased at being the errand boy. “Should you require anything, please call the concierge on the comm device in your room.” With that, he closed the door, locking it before he left.

“I don’t think he likes you, Navan,” I teased halfheartedly. “Thinks you’re in the running for his job.”

Navan grimaced. “Don’t remind me. Feels like I end up following in my father’s footsteps, even if I do everything I can to go in the opposite direction.”

“Literally in the opposite direction!” I said, wanting to get a smile to break the stern surface of Navan’s face. It felt like we both needed a moment of levity after everything we’d just been through. “I saw that map of yours—you can’t get any farther away from here than Earth.”

A small smile played on his lips. “How do you think I ended up there?”

“I can see it now,” I said, closing my eyes and pretending there was a giant map in front of me. “Eenie, meenie, minie, mo!”

“Something like that,” he replied softly, coming over to where I stood. Slowly, he put his arms around me. I turned my head so I could nestle into his chest.

“What are we going to do about the others?” I asked, my playful energy fading as I remembered the torture they were likely experiencing, right at this very moment. Tears pricked my eyes once more, and I snuggled into Navan’s embrace, feeling the safety of his arms around me.

It was Lazar I felt sorriest for—he was an older man, with so much to lose. How quickly could one of those devices break a man weaker than Navan? How many secrets would they reveal, if Queen Gianne played her execution trick on them? Even our tentative freedom could not be taken for granted—if they told the truth, we would all be done for.

“We’ll get them back in one piece, don’t worry,” Navan said. “They’re smart guys—they’ll figure out lies that work. They won’t give up the truth, not when they have so much to lose. That’s the thing about rebels—they have a cause.”

I smirked, picturing Navan as James Dean, his t-shirt sleeves rolled up, his hair styled back in a messy sweep.

He eyed me with curiosity. “What?”

“Reminded me of an old movie—Rebel Without a Cause?”