Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)

Lazar nodded. “Assuming our data satisfies Orion, we return to Earth in a few days.”

I blew out, relief washing over me. Never had sweeter words been spoken. And yet… we were in a bind regarding this whole chip issue. Who was to say that, as soon as I set foot on home soil, Orion wouldn’t just pull the trigger anyway? Then again, what if Lazar was wrong—what if Orion could sense the removal of the implant and activated it while it was being removed? Or worse, what if this was all just a twisted ploy by Orion to see if we would betray him? What if Lazar was in on it? It would certainly explain his sudden change of heart.

Navan glanced at me but remained silent, clearly believing I had to be the one to make this decision, without pressure from him either way. It was my life on the line, after all, not his.

So many thoughts raced through my mind at once as we watched Lazar walk away, but after several minutes, there was one voice in the back of my head that broke out louder than the rest.

It was a veritable cacophony, ringing in my ears. It was the voice of Roger, and Jean, and Angie, and Lauren, and everyone who might be missing me. It was a beacon, calling me back to Earth. Silently, I thought of home, and Navan, and I knew what my answer had to be.





Chapter Twenty-Eight





Lazar left us to think about his proposal, but I’d already made my mind up—I had to let him remove the chip. If the surgery was successful, we would have taken power away from Orion, and I wouldn’t be in constant fear of dying unexpectedly. I was convinced that I stood more chance of surviving and getting back to my family without that thing in my neck.

Now all we had left to do was wait.

“I’m just not… completely sure this is a good idea,” Navan said, standing by the window as the Vysanthean sun began to set. We had tried to keep busy throughout the day, but all we’d ended up doing was a lot of pacing around our room, the tension crackling. I agreed with him, but I just wanted the chip out of my neck. For the most part, I believed Lazar when he said Orion wouldn’t know, even if a niggling doubt remained.

As darkness fell, we left the chambers, heading down in the elevator to the underground station that rested below the mountain. There were guards everywhere. Knowing we’d have to avoid being seen, we hovered behind a pillar until the bullet train pulled up to the platform. Darting from our hiding place, we jumped onto the emptiest carriage, with me pulling the hood of my coat around my face so nobody would see the pale, human color of my skin.

The bullet train clattered as it shot through the tunnels beneath Vysanthe, before screeching to a halt ten minutes later. The doors slid open, and, stepping cautiously out, I recognized the station where we’d arrived.

Following the route to the ship hangar, we clung to the shadows, wary of being spotted. Even though we had free rein of the place, thanks to Queen Gianne, I was fairly sure this part of Vysanthe was still out of bounds. The queen was likely still paranoid about us making an escape attempt.

Seeing that the corridor ahead was clear, we raced down it, seeking out the cave with the Asterope inside. As I rounded the corner, a couple of steps in front of Navan, I froze. A guard stood right in front of us, mere yards from where I’d come to a halt, my muscles twinging with the strain of pulling myself back. Navan almost barreled into me, stopping himself at the last moment.

The guard had his back to us, polishing the deadly edge of his pike.

I glanced at Navan and gave him a signal to move backward, as silently as possible. He nodded, carefully stepping away, moving back around the corner. I followed, holding my breath. My heart was pounding, the blood rushing in my ears.

Seeking out a recess in the hallway, we drew into the shadows, Navan pulling me close, camouflaging me in the darkness. We waited, listening for the sound of footsteps on the polished stone floor. Before long, the guard turned the corner and passed by without noticing us, whistling as he walked.

That had been too close. Way too close.

As my blood pressure slowly returned to normal, we snuck out of the recess and headed for the cave hangar. Surprisingly, there were no guards here, only a few late-night mechanics toiling away at their appointed vessels. With their focus elsewhere, and most of their heads buried in the metal entrails of a ship, they were easy to skirt past. Our goal was the Asterope, which stood to the far side of the hangar, gleaming elegantly.

Keeping alert, we approached, pausing at the spot where the gangway usually slid out. Tentatively, I knocked, hoping for a response.

Lazar answered a moment later. “You came,” he said softly, his tone not exactly surprised.

I nodded. “If you can get this thing out of me, I’m all for it.”

“Then we should get started,” he replied. “This won’t be easy for you.”

We followed him into the belly of the ship. His words haunted me. Would it hurt? I scolded myself—of course it was going to hurt. Orion wouldn’t have implanted something that was easy to remove.

We moved to the right of the ship’s main space and entered a narrow hallway that I hadn’t seen before. Walking to the very end, Lazar led us through a low doorway, into a tiny, metallic room that smelled of sterile chemicals. I guessed it was the medical bay, though, with no previous reason to use it, I hadn’t had the opportunity to explore this side of the Asterope.

In the center of the room, there was a surgical table, with bright lights shining down upon the cold, chrome bed. Screens flickered to life around it, a monitor beeping in a single flat line. When I was hooked up to it, I hoped it wouldn’t end up showing that same image.

“Get up onto the table,” Lazar instructed, as he began to search through several drawers that were tucked away in the ship’s walls. He drew out a pouch of sharp-looking instruments and laid them flat on a nearby tray, waiting for me to obey.

Removing my coat, I lay down on the table, the metal icy against my back. Anxiety coursed through my veins, reminding me of doctor’s visits and dentist appointments from my childhood. I hated hospitals at the best of times.

Lazar sat down on a stool close to my head, scooting the wheeled tray with the instruments closer. I took a deep breath, my nerves calming slightly at the sensation of Navan’s hand holding mine. Looking up, I saw his comforting face, and allowed myself to relax slightly. I was never going to be totally at ease, but his presence helped.

“I’m just going to make an incision,” Lazar said, cutting down the fabric of my t-shirt to expose the bare flesh he needed. I could hear the scissors cutting the material, the sound a chilling one, so close to my ear.

“Wait, what about painkillers?!” I asked, looking at him in alarm.