Page 38 of Dark Reign

The sentinels could’ve seen the sheen on my forehead, smelled the faint trace of nervous perspiration in the air at any time during my exit, so there was no point trying to guess.

“You nearly got away,” one said with a smile. I caught a glimpse of the badge he wore. Sentinel Bryson.

“Is she marked?” another asked. Quickly scanning his uniform, I had his name, too—Sentinel Embry.

“Bryson and Embry,” I stated in a low whisper, doing all I could to regurgitate tidbits of info to my team, before I was dealt with in whatever manner these two saw fit. I couldn’t recall if I’d seen either when Julian and I exited the gala, as we ascended the elevator to the second floor—not that it would have helped if they recognized me.

I was done for either way.

“What’s that you said, sow?” Embry asked in a brash tone, those treacherous eyes of his landing on me.

He didn’t wait for an answer before my arm was twisted violently by his partner as he searched for the mark. When the customary tell of a Doll—a Master’s barcode tattooed on my bicep—wasn’t found, they lifted my hair, checking the back of my neck for a Harvest Identification Number.

“Nothing but a small scar,” Bryson sighed, unknowingly referring to the incision where the anti-compulsion device had been implanted. When he turned me to face him, a curious look passed between us.

“Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

I didn’t say a word, because he wasn’t expecting an answer anyway.

“Is she branded with a lot number?” Embry asked.

Bryson lifted the side of my dress and I fought against his strength as he ran his massive hand up my thigh, searching my skin.

“Nothing. Just a few bruises covered with makeup, andthis,” he answered Embry, tossing my knife into a rose bush.

He began to circle slowly, assessing all Liv had put into making sure I fit in tonight, making sure all traces of the last mission—those bruises mentioned—weren’t visible at a glance. When all was said and done, it had all been for nothing.

“No mark. No HIN. No brand,” Embry grumbled curiously.

“Interesting.” Bryson didn’t take his eyes off me as he spoke.

“You think she’s rogue? From one of those fringe operations that’ve been giving us hell lately?” Embry asked next.

Bryson didn’t answer. “Who sent you here tonight?” he asked me instead.

My breaths came deep and even while I held his gaze. When his brow furrowed—marking his forehead with deep-set lines—it was clear he resented that I didn’t cower, didn’t immediately rush to spill my secrets. I knew as much, because his broad jaw stiffened, and my arm was seized a second time.

“Who sent you?”

He asked again, but this time the question wasscreamedat me, reminding me with the force of the wind, and the sudden wicked depth of his voice, that he was not human.

I shuddered from the intensity, but still held my ground.

I knew something was coming, some show of power to remind me of my place—as a human, as a woman—but I had no idea what tactics these two would employ. When Bryson reached for the back of my head, I cried out at the feel of my hair being pulled and then wound tight around his wrist. As soon as I moved to free myself, Embry rushed forward, holding his suddenly visible, razor-like claws to the hollow of my throat.

“Cori, tell us where you are! Banks and Jonesy are armed and they’re coming for you,”Liv said with quivering words.

I imagined how that would play out, if I allowed the team to intervene—Banks and Jonesy alone against what I was certain to be a hundred or more sentinels on the grounds. More in civilian clothes, hiding in plain sight. To sum it up, there was no point.

No point in calling the others in when I knew what would await them, the same fate that awaited me.

Death.

My body was slammed to the stone path and I gasped when all air left my lungs. Embry didhispart by smashing the sole of his boot to my wrist. I managed to keep a grip on my clutch for a few seconds, but it eventually slipped from my palm before being kicked into the bushes. The special bracelet I was so incredibly dependent on didn’t stand a chance either. I felt it bend beneath his weight, until finally a sharp edge pierced my skin when the device separated into two.

I cried out as the jagged metal dug deeper into my skin, pressing against tendons, leaving the tissue beneath them raw and stinging.

Still, despite the pain, all I could think about was the fact that he’d broken it, this small thing that probably seemed so insignificant to them, but meant so much to me.

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