Page 48 of New World

A muscle ticked in Dorane’s jaw, but his voice was even when he spoke. “Who else?”

Mei hesitated. “The man sitting at the bar and the cat-lady.”

That was the breaking point. She saw it—the sharp flicker of rage that flared behind his controlled expression. Dorane was too seasoned to react carelessly. Instead, he inhaled slowly and exhaled through his nose, pressing his fingers into the table as if grounding himself.

Mei continued. “I stopped at least one attempt on each of them.”

His gaze snapped back to hers.

“One on Asta. One on Jammer,” she clarified.

Dorane’s expression darkened, but his voice remained quiet. “Where?”

“The first time was in the upper levels, near the refueling stations. The next was near mechanical.”

Dorane cursed again, this time in Urvanian. “Son of a?—”

Mei lowered her voice, leaning in slightly. “I think he’s testing your security. I lost him in the lower levels beneath us. I don’t know if he’s waiting to make his move or if he’s just enjoying the hunt.”

Dorane drummed his fingers once against the tabletop before going completely still. His hazel eyes broadcasted his thoughts.

He was pissed. Not at her, but at the implications. At the violation of his space, of his people.

Mei held her breath as he slowly shifted, lifting his hand. A second later, a shadow loomed over the table.

Jammer.

The massive Zurkaan slid into the seat beside Dorane. Mei lifted a slender hand and pulled the hood of her cloak lower before casually lifting the side of her scarf up to conceal her lower face. Jammer’s eyes were sharp as they flicked toward her. Though his face was relaxed, she could tell he was assessing her.

“What’s up?” Jammer asked, his tone deceptively light.

Dorane slowly related what Mei had just told him—including the attempts on his and Asta’s lives. Jammer exhaled through his nose, then turned to Mei. For a long moment, he simply studied her. She felt his gaze sweep over the small details—the hood, the scarf, the only part of her face visible: her eyes.

Then his lips curved into a small, wry grin.

“You remind me of someone,” he murmured. “There’s a guy up at headquarters. Same color eyes almost. Same look.”

Mei stilled. Jammer continued, oblivious to the way her pulse had just shot into her throat.

“He calls himself Ashton Haze. He has darker skin,” he said casually. “You know him?”

Mei’s heart stopped. She stiffened, hope cascading through her as she whipped her gaze to Dorane. The noise of the bar, the tension of the conversation, the assassin lurking in the shadows—it all disappeared. The air in her lungs froze as she waited for his confirmation.

Ash? Ash was here?

Dorane, sensing her sudden shift, bowed his head. A crooked, apologetic smile curved his lips.

“I should have mentioned that when I realized who you were, I guess. He and his Turbinta girlfriend, Kella, are guests at my headquarters.”

“You guess?” she murmured, shaking her head at him in disbelief.

Mei’s mind raced. How had she missed him? She had been watching, tracking movements, listening for names whispered in the shadows. She exhaled shakily, barely aware of her fingers loosening their grip on her scarf. The fabric slipped away as if on its own, baring the lower half of her face as she sat back.

Relief flashed through her with an intensity that was almost a physical pain. Ash—her friend, her family, one of the few people she had trusted in the darkness—had been within reach, and she hadn’t even known.

Both men tensed at the same time. Dorane’s lazy crooked smile faded into something more complex as he studied her stunned expression and the flare of hope in her eyes that caused them to shine a touch too bright in the dim lighting. Jammer’s expression turned from casual to shocked as he caught his first look at her unshielded face.

She locked gazes with Dorane, her voice quiet but steady.

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