Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

“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.”