Page 93 of New World

“You’re a dead man, Sergi,” La’Rue muttered, her cheeks heating.

“Are they always like this?” Cassa asked.

Julia sighed dramatically. “Oh, this is mild. Sometimes it’s worse.”

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine—do your thing, everyone. Just don’t get killed.”

Mei rolled her eyes. “Have you seen the Legion fight? I could take on the lot with my eyes blindfolded.”

“She could,” Dorane and Julia said at the same time.

Mei gave Josh an apologetic smile when he looked at her with a confused frowned. “There may have been a little piece of information missing from my resume,” she confessed.

“A little piece?” Sergi snorted.

“You’ll have to enlighten me when this is all over,” Josh said dryly before he nodded. “Let’s get into position. I don’t want any mistakes. I want that bastard’s head on a stake.”

Mei slipped her hand into Dorane’s as they turned and exited the freighter. He squeezed her hand before moving down the slope. He knew exactly where he was going to take up his defensive position.

“Dorane,” Mei said as he started to turn toward his childhood home.

He paused. She walked over to him. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he wasn’t ready to face his uncle—his past.

He brushed a strand of her hair back and gently caressed her cheek.

“I’ve got this. I’m ready,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

“I love you,” she said, before she pressed a hard kiss to his lips. “Don’t get hurt. I want you to make love to me tonight when this is all over.”

“TMI, Mei! TMI!” Ash called out.

Mei had a goofy grin on her lips as she headed for the spot she had picked out.

23

The transport rattled beneath Andri’s feet, the vibration coursing through his boots like a heartbeat—his heartbeat. Steady. Unstoppable.

He stood at the viewport, his hands clasped behind his back, his military coat stained with red dust and sweat. The pilots murmured among themselves, reading out trajectory adjustments, but he barely listened.

Ahead of them, the ruins of a forgotten village appeared encased with the colorful canyon walls, a ghostly reminder of what had once been.

A fitting battleground.

A fitting place to erase the last of his enemies.

Andri turned his attention to the pilot when the man called out to him. The pilot pointed through the front glass.

“Sir, there’s… a body.”

Andri’s gaze snapped downward to where the twisted, discarded form of Zoak lay motionless in the dirt. The assassin’s lifeless eyes stared skyward, his body crumpled like discarded waste.

Andri’s throat went tight. His gaze swept the area, looking for additional bodies. Bodies that should have been left by Zoak, not the other way around.

He twisted, trying to catch a closer look at the transport that flew over. Zoak had been a force, a predator, a necessary monster. To see him like this—broken, abandoned, a corpse forgotten in the dust—it made something cold slither through Andri’s chest.

He was thrilled the assassin was dead—but it shouldn’t have been this easy. A whisper of doubt filled his head. He lifted his fingers to his sweaty temple and rubbed as the pressure built.

If they can defeat Zoak, can they defeat me?

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