Page 79 of Heir of Ashes

I was surprised when Rafael turned to me next. “Ready? You can still back out. No one will think less of you if you do.”

“I’m going,” I replied, the knot in my stomach tightening. Not because I was eager to go back, but because my gut urged me to do this. And regardless of how nervous I was, I’d learned long ago never to ignore my gut instinct.

Rafael studied my face for a moment, searching for a doubt I knew didn’t show. Or maybe it did, because he bared his teeth next, his eyes as cold and unfeeling as a northern winter, and said, “You fuck this up, do anything to jeopardize this mission in any way, and I’ll make it my personal goal to hunt you down. You understand me?”

“I’m in,” I said as calmly as possible, knowing Rafael meant every word and that he wouldn’t stop once he had found me. No, he would make me pay with my blood, drop by slow drop. I could see it in his eyes.

He gave me a short nod and turned to the woods behind him. As if a warning of sorts, a tiny drop of frigid water fell on my neck and slithered to the edge of the spandex suit, making me shiver. I could’ve left my hair down and protected my neck from the chill, but I’d tied it into a bun to keep it from being used as a weapon against me. I’d learned that lesson the hard way.

No birds sang, no small animals scurried through the underbrush. It was all so … eerie. We were surrounded by trees, tall, billowing sentinels, their branches blocking out most of the gray sky, only revealing glimpses when they swayed with thebiting wind. Some of the trees were bare, their fallen leaves forming a slippery carpet.

The moss-covered trees, the carpet of fallen leaves, and the steady sound of water dripping from the canopy—leftovers from a recent rain—reminded me of a movie where a headless horseman emerged from the roots of an old tree. It was a perfect set for its replay. Even the whistle of the wind seemed like a cry of doom.

There was still plenty of daylight left, but the hike from here to the stone wall surrounding the PSS would take us about an hour. Douglas had come ahead of us and marked our trail, but I hadn’t seen any signs of it. In fact, the trees were so densely packed, we had to move in single file.

Logan led the way, with me in the middle and Rafael bringing up the rear. Anyone smart enough could tell those two weren’t entirely human just by watching the animalistic way they moved. They dodged and jumped over fallen logs swiftly and sure-footed, navigating the rough terrain with ease.

We would be approaching the facility from the back, not because security was lighter, but because the buildings were closest to the wall from there. Guardhouses were evenly distributed around the wall, along with cameras and heat sensors; it wouldn’t have mattered from which point we penetrated the fortress. But this way, at least, we wouldn’t have to cross a long stretch in the open.

Chapter 24

Within the dense woods, twilight ruled. Slivers of the gray sky peeked between intervals in the emerald canopy, accompanied by freezing gusts of wind that bit like tiny icy teeth at my bare neck.

I followed Logan’s lead, dodging low branches, jumping fallen mossy logs, and changing directions when the course did. Not once did I find any telltale marks that Douglas left for us to follow. I suppose leaving trails anyone could find was unprofessional and, so far, all this group had shown me was the canny zeal of professional enthusiasts who worshipped their job. Perfectionists, really, who wanted their work to be better than just superb.

We ran on a carpet of Douglas fir needles, over broken logs and jutting rocks for what seemed to me like an eternity.

When Logan finally came to a halt, I almost plowed through him. I took a step back before moving to his side. The tree line ended about twenty feet ahead, revealing a break in the woods where harsh artificial light illuminated fifty yards of empty, sandy terrain. Beyond it, the imposing wall of the PSS loomed. By then, full darkness had fallen, but no night animals were about. From where we stood, we could hear the faint, crashing waves of the Sound, about a mile west.

Logan moved as close as five feet to the edge of the woods and scanned the wall, then once more with the binoculars he produced from some hidden pocket. He wasn’t taking any chances that he could miss some small detail despite his superior eyesight. He moved farther away and out of sight, and neither Rafael nor I spoke a word during the hour and forty-five minutes he was gone.

“It’s as we know,” Logan said when he returned. “One guard in each house, ten in total, along with sophisticated surveillance equipment between each post.”

Rafael rocked on his feet. “So, do we rock the place or sneak in quietly like smoke thieves?”

Logan looked back at the telltale lights as if contemplating his answer, but it was me he addressed next. “You sure about this? If what you suspect about Archer is right, I’ll personally help you.”

But that wouldn’t change anything. I would still find myself without answers, running and hiding and not understanding the reason behind it all.

“I’m in,” I said firmly.

Beside me, Rafael made no snarky comments.

“Then we’ll do both,” Logan told Rafael.

“The C-4?” Rafael asked.

“In place.”

“Then let’s party.” As if in accord, his words were followed by a gust of freezing wind.

I shivered once, not sure if it was from Rafael’s words or the dropping temperature. My stomach was hollow, filled with tiny things that fluttered. I was glad I hadn’t eaten anything besides the flat soup. Sensing Logan’s eyes on me, I turned to look at him. He was watching me, his expression neutral. Before I could say anything, maybe even apologize for my childish behavior earlier, a sudden pressure in the air had me whirling around, talons out.

To find Rafael disappearing into a blur of gray and green shimmering veil. In his place, a brown rat, no bigger than a foot, twitched its whiskers, its dark eyes too wise, too intelligent, too perceptive. It watched me, the bigger predator, with suspicion. Of course!

A light bulb went on above my head, radiating a brilliant light. Rafael was a shifter. What was similar to a werewolf but felt and looked different? A shapeshifter.

Logan crouched in front of Rafael, presenting him with two thin wires attached to small chips on each end. The rodent took it between his teeth and scurried away. I watched it go, amazed, then turned to Logan and found him casually unwrapping a stick of gum. He offered me one, and I accepted, raising my eyebrows at him.

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