Huh. Dead end question if she ever heard one. “Can we just get on with it?”
He shoved her chin up, and poked at the scabbed wounds she’d gotten from Metalmouth’s knife. “So Carrerra tickled you before Stone showed up? I didn’t authorize him to do that. I would have punished him, but Fuckboy here beat me to it.”
The door opened, and the female slave soldier entered, maneuvering herself through the door with Hannah’s limp body loaded on her shoulder.
She walked over to them, and let Hannah slide to the floor in a crumpled heap.
Asa jerked his head around to look, dislodging the slave soldier. The guy whacked him with the gun butt. Once again, Asa made no sound.
Mark used his foot to turn Hannah’s limp body onto her back, studying her before he turned back to Caro.
“Midlanders,” he said, in a tone of discovery. “I’ll be damned. How the hell did they find you?” He stared down at Asa. “And you. Noah’s brother? I thought you looked familiar.” He laughed. “Bonus! When she wakes up, it’ll be playtime!” His laughter cut off suddenly, as if he’d flicked a switch. “But first, the safe.”
He placed the helmet on Caro’s head, positioning the sensors over her forehead and temples, and stroked her hair tenderly off her cheek. “It’s decorative, on you,” he said. “An empress with her crown. A high priestess with her headdress. Beautiful.”
She recoiled from his caressing touch. “Stop it.”
Mark’s hot blue AVP gaze looked right through her, but the effect was the exact opposite of when Noah did it. It reduced her, made her feel shivering and small. She wondered if he were reading her sig, like Noah did.
He had to be. He had the same mods. She had to keep her thoughts and plans small and emotionless, floating on the outskirts of her mind. Nothing happening in there but fear. Fear blanked out everything.
No need to fake it.
She felt the tickling hum in her ears as the helmet was activated. Mark loomed over her, hungrily. “Step back,” she told him. “I can concentrate better if you do.”
Mark chuckled. “Nothing doing, bitch. Make an effort.”
It felt strange, to work with the GodsEye interface after eight long months. She struggled to compose her mind to the necessary initial stillness, and closed her eyes, trying to reduce sensory input. The blazing red light, the rancid smell of Mark’s sweat. Her own rapid breathing and quick, thudding heartbeat.
“Zero the mechanism for me, please,” she said quietly. “Green button on the bottom of the control rod.”
“It’s zeroed.” Mark sounded peeved. “It’s ready for the sequence. Do it.” His voice vibrated with anticipation.
Caro pulled Lydia’s training sequence out of her memory. Ten years of intensive practice had made her an expert in manipulating the Inner Vision software. She could control the shape of her brainwaves with more sureness and accuracy than anyone alive. She also knew how to exceed program parameters, trip the security, and blow up the safe, completely incinerating the contents.
Theoretically.
She’d never actually done it, since GodsEye equipment cost in the millions. She might well be committing suicide. But there were worse ways to go.
There were five images in the training sequence. The GodsEye’s recommendation for a permanent combination was ten images. One, a snowy field with a knobbed and ancient oak tree in the middle. Two, a red half open rose. Three, a school of silvery tropical fish. Four, an eagle diving for its prey. Five, a mushroom cloud.
She blasted emotional energy into the last image. Her terror, her crushed hopes, her love for Noah, goosing that witch-hat brainwave spike up, up, up, off the chart—
Boom.
The blast wave flung her halfway across the room. When she struggled up to look, Mark was sitting up too, his face blackened and bloodied. His expression was empty with shock, which quickly turned to fury. He got up, swaying, and stared at the safe, which now hung open. Stinking black smoke billowed out of it.
Whatever had been inside it was nothing but ash and cinders now.
“You lying bitch,” he said hoarsely. “I will rip your heart out for that!” He reached for her, hauling her to her feet.
“No, you won’t.” A voice from the door. Something flashed through the air—
Mark shouted hoarsely. He twisted, and pulled a long shard of bloodied glass out of his shoulder. Noah barrelled at him, from across the room. Barefoot. Nearly naked.
Mark flung her away. The two men charged each other with a guttural roar.
Caro hit the floor. Something massive landed on top of her. The woman slave soldier shifted on Caro, pinning her. She could barely breathe. She heard thuds, grunts, chunks of falling plaster and primal howls, but all she could see were billowing clouds of plaster dust.