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Authors: Anna Silver
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district. If they’re here, we’ll catch ‘em. As for the girl, I don’t ask questions. She’s their pet project and I don’t want to get on their bad side.”
Mack lit up a cigarette. London hadn’t smelled city-issue smoke in months. She rubbed distractedly at an arm where she could feel her scars network beneath the fabric. So Avery was the Tycoon’s new pet?
Figures
. And she was now out of her cage, helping the Tycoons hunt the Otherborn and the other dreamers down.
“Well, if she’s their new pet, then he’s hers.” Mack smirked.
London’s chest tightened and she drew in her breath.
He?
There was a
he
? Was it possible? Could they mean Rye? But Rye would never be Avery’s pet. He hated Avery for betraying them. Even if he was still alive, he would never help the Tycoons. London was certain of that. They had to be talking about someone else. But who?
The other guy grinned, but before he could reply a blue light came from the device in his hand.
“What’d I tell ya? Any minute.” He pressed a button and a small screen flashed into life in the night air before them. On it, a man’s dour face hovered.
“You boys got anything?” the dour man asked from the screen.
“No sir,” Mack said, all serious now. He’d dropped his cigarette at his foot where he carefully ground it out with the heel of his boot.
“Keep alert. She’s certain they’re moving that way,” the dour man responded.
“Three of them, right? Two guys and a girl?” the first guy asked the man on the screen.
“No—hold on. I’ll let him tell you. Pay attention, I don’t want him to have to go over this again,” the man on the screen said with a frown. His face shifted to one side and then vanished before another face appeared.
Both the men went very rigid as their new contact addressed them from the screen. “There are four: two males and two females. The first male is a purebred Asian—Korean. He wears a distinguishing mark on one wrist. Three black bars. The second male is much larger with light hair. There is a blond, Caucasian female. An Outroader. And the last one, a taller female. Dark hair, dark eyes.”
London was so completely frozen, so transfixed by what she saw on the little screen, that she registered every detail about this new contact, even the slight hesitation he made before describing her, as though a tiny part of him hated to do it. She couldn’t blink, couldn’t turn away as he finished.
“That last one, she’s the most dangerous. It’s been confirmed that she killed an Outroader scout at the last encampment we raided. Don’t underestimate her,” he said.
“We won’t,” Mack assured him.
The screen flashed off and the first guy pocketed the device. “You heard him. I told you there were four. You’re such an idiot.”
Mack shrugged. “I coulda sworn she said three. Forget it. Let’s go inside and get the wife to put a fresh kettle on. The fugitives won’t be making an appearance in the next ten minutes and we won’t have to answer another signal until dawn at least.”
Both men shuffled off toward the farm house, but London couldn’t pull herself away from the crack at the door, from the spot, in midair, where only seconds ago a screen had blinked images of light and color in the vacant night and she’d heard herself described as
dangerous
.
But it wasn’t the description of her that had her reeling. It was the person who’d done the describing.
“London,” Tora whispered from beside her. “We need to go while they’re inside.”
London sat back, dazed and crestfallen, and stared at Tora.
“London,” Tora tried again. “Come on.”
But Tora’s voice echoed without meaning in her ears, because nothing could replace the sound of the voice coming from the screen. The voice that called her dangerous.
His
voice.
And nothing would ever erase the sight of him from her eyes as he calmly said:
That last one, she’s the most dangerous…Don’t underestimate her.
It
Mack lit up a cigarette. London hadn’t smelled city-issue smoke in months. She rubbed distractedly at an arm where she could feel her scars network beneath the fabric. So Avery was the Tycoon’s new pet?
Figures
. And she was now out of her cage, helping the Tycoons hunt the Otherborn and the other dreamers down.
“Well, if she’s their new pet, then he’s hers.” Mack smirked.
London’s chest tightened and she drew in her breath.
He?
There was a
he
? Was it possible? Could they mean Rye? But Rye would never be Avery’s pet. He hated Avery for betraying them. Even if he was still alive, he would never help the Tycoons. London was certain of that. They had to be talking about someone else. But who?
The other guy grinned, but before he could reply a blue light came from the device in his hand.
“What’d I tell ya? Any minute.” He pressed a button and a small screen flashed into life in the night air before them. On it, a man’s dour face hovered.
“You boys got anything?” the dour man asked from the screen.
“No sir,” Mack said, all serious now. He’d dropped his cigarette at his foot where he carefully ground it out with the heel of his boot.
“Keep alert. She’s certain they’re moving that way,” the dour man responded.
“Three of them, right? Two guys and a girl?” the first guy asked the man on the screen.
“No—hold on. I’ll let him tell you. Pay attention, I don’t want him to have to go over this again,” the man on the screen said with a frown. His face shifted to one side and then vanished before another face appeared.
Both the men went very rigid as their new contact addressed them from the screen. “There are four: two males and two females. The first male is a purebred Asian—Korean. He wears a distinguishing mark on one wrist. Three black bars. The second male is much larger with light hair. There is a blond, Caucasian female. An Outroader. And the last one, a taller female. Dark hair, dark eyes.”
London was so completely frozen, so transfixed by what she saw on the little screen, that she registered every detail about this new contact, even the slight hesitation he made before describing her, as though a tiny part of him hated to do it. She couldn’t blink, couldn’t turn away as he finished.
“That last one, she’s the most dangerous. It’s been confirmed that she killed an Outroader scout at the last encampment we raided. Don’t underestimate her,” he said.
“We won’t,” Mack assured him.
The screen flashed off and the first guy pocketed the device. “You heard him. I told you there were four. You’re such an idiot.”
Mack shrugged. “I coulda sworn she said three. Forget it. Let’s go inside and get the wife to put a fresh kettle on. The fugitives won’t be making an appearance in the next ten minutes and we won’t have to answer another signal until dawn at least.”
Both men shuffled off toward the farm house, but London couldn’t pull herself away from the crack at the door, from the spot, in midair, where only seconds ago a screen had blinked images of light and color in the vacant night and she’d heard herself described as
dangerous
.
But it wasn’t the description of her that had her reeling. It was the person who’d done the describing.
“London,” Tora whispered from beside her. “We need to go while they’re inside.”
London sat back, dazed and crestfallen, and stared at Tora.
“London,” Tora tried again. “Come on.”
But Tora’s voice echoed without meaning in her ears, because nothing could replace the sound of the voice coming from the screen. The voice that called her dangerous.
His
voice.
And nothing would ever erase the sight of him from her eyes as he calmly said:
That last one, she’s the most dangerous…Don’t underestimate her.
It
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