Fred’s stare wavers for just a moment, then his usual veneer comes back up.
“Well, I guess we will see just how much he cares about you.”
Then Fred bends, lifting Sara to her feet with all the care of an undertaker. He brings a small blade out from his vest and in a fast gesture, draws a deep cut in the middle of her palm. A much bigger cut than necessary. Sara cries out and struggles to get free, but Fred holds on to her, pressing her bleeding palm to the reading device.
He lets her go and Sara scrambles away toward me. We hug each other, forgotten for just a moment as all eyes latch onto the data frame. I pull Sara away, scrambling closer to the wall.
We have no chance at escaping, but I’m not prepared to give up without a fight.
“What!” Fred’s voice booms, wrath filling the space between us. “This is not the List.”
Sara and I freeze, our bodies trembling, huddled together against the wall, a good twenty feet from them.
“That is what you deserve.” I counter. “Nothing. You’ll never get the List. You’ve done all this for nothing and now you’re all going to die.”
“Oh, no, sister.” Fred moves toward me, no longer the smooth talker, the smiling businessman who can sweet talk anyone into anything. No, he’s the monster on the inside, ugliness shining in his too-blue eyes. When he reaches us, I shield Sara with my body as best I can. He bends, grabbing a fistful of my hair and lifting me to my feet. The pain screams along my scalp and my eyes sting with tears, but I refuse to scream.
“I have you and General Jarrahdal’s daughter. I have plenty of toys to make the big boys beg.”
Fred brings me close to his face and there’s a dizzying moment when I think he’s going to kiss me. Then he slowly turns his head to the hallway.
There stand three Drakian warriors, their skin covered in black scales, their yellow eyes shining with wrath. My heart swells as I see him, my Amare, my life, my heart.
I never doubted he would come for me.
“Take your hands off my Amara.”