Page 57 of Scars Run Deep

I pulled my gun and cocked it.

A second later, a dark figure flitted across the intersecting corridor just beyond these first set.

My muscles locked.

You’re sealed in.

You’re trapped.

This is another cage.

I could feel perspiration forming on my brow, my skin reddening with the flush of panic.

Stop! Get a fucking grip!

“Easy,” the figure spoke, pulling my attention to him. “This isn’t a cell.”

It stepped from the shadows and into the limited lighted area.

And there he was, a specter made flesh.

He was decked out in black tactical gear, the padding just emphasizing his natural bulk and muscle. His dark brown hair was in a severe crew cut, not overgrown or more mussed like the last time I’d seen him. As he drew closer, those electric-blue eyes of his burned into me down deep as the similarity to Aurora’s became all too clear in an unsettling instant. He was armed to the hilt, a Sig in either holster, knives strapped to his tactical pants, and his vest and jacket bulging with hell only knew what else as well.

Lance “Revenant” Carlyle.

His attention went to my gun.

But it became clear quickly that it wasn’t for the obvious reason. He didn’t seem worried.

“Your arm is still impacting you. It should still be supported in a sling.”

“That would be an invitation to my enemies, seen as a point of vulnerability.”

“No one is close. You’re safe here.”

That remained to be seen. But there was a more pressing question now that he’d commented on it. “You saw me injure it?”

“I arrived on scene in time to see you forcing it back into place.”

“Hmm,” I mused. “So you didn’t see Aurora fall then.”

He tensed. “Fall?”

“Off the bridge. That’s how I dislocated it, pulling her up to safety.”

“Jesus, too close,” he muttered to himself. “Reckless and rash fools.”

“I’d say so, considering it was their intent to kidnap her and I, not to eliminate us.”

Something undecipherable flitted across his face, the guy living up to his enigma status.

“What happened to Olivia?” I asked. “Why did she extricate herself from our safehouse after agreeing to work with us?”

“With the Heretics attack, it shifted things. As we’ll discuss in a few moments. Her leaving as hastily as she did, though, was because I’d gotten word that another unit of Heretics were approaching your position. I had her head them off and eliminate them, while I dealt with the assailants who had already reached you.”

He gestured to my gun, still trained on him. “Put it away. You’re not a prisoner.” He added more pointedly, “This is no dungeon.”

I just stared at him. What did he think he knew?

---