Page 152 of Stars in Umbra
‘Not a surprise,’ she clipped. ‘I’ve heard you’re a man who uses ruthless means to control what he wants.’
‘Have you now?’
She was about to lose her cool when a sudden tremor ran through the air, followed by panicked screams.
Outside the front gallery, a sleek silver flyer spiraled and twisted in the air.
It plummeted in a chaotic arc before slamming nose-first into the manicured front courtyard with a blinding flash and a loud, metallic boom.
Shards of carbon steel and smoke plumed skyward.
Guests scattered, crying out in alarm. Security surged forward, shouting into their comms, weapons drawn, and fanning out in a controlled formation.
Thrall froze.
A guard rushed up to him. ‘Sir, your presence is required. One of the diplomatic flyers lost control. It may be a possible case of engine sabotage. Civilian casualties are minimal, but the press is circling.’
With a vicious curse, Caidan released Rina’s arm.
‘This conversation isn’t over,’ he snapped, before striding toward the chaos, his dark coat flaring behind him like the wing of a predator.
Rina exhaled hard, stepping into a quiet alcove, each part of her body alert and shaking.
Mirage,she said through the neural link,you absolute legend.
Crashing flyers isn’t my thing,the synth AI replied dryly,but I do what I must.
Rina.Mo’s voice came next, deep, ragged, angry.I caught every second of that exchange. He touched you, he fokkin’ tried -.
Calm down, Molan,she replied, pressing her palm against her abdomen to center herself.‘I’ve got this.
I’m about to rip him in two.
Her lips curved.Then wait till I’ve painted the target on his chest.
Under the cover of swirling smoke and alarmed guests, Rina slipped out of the ballroom.
Her steps were silent, her gown flowing behind her with deceptive elegance.
Mirage’s voice guided her through the neural link, serene and composed despite the chaos she’d just orchestrated.
‘Up the central staircase,’Mirage murmured.‘East wing. Third door on the left. That’s where his private study is located. Keep an eye out and work fast.’
Rina crossed the marble foyer, heels making a sound, ascending the grand flight of stairs beneath a canopy of gilt-framed paintings and flickering chandeliers.
Her stomach was knotted as she assessed corners, rooms, and corridors for Thrall’s sentinels or a sudden ambush.
At the top of the stairs, a guard rounded the corner, too fast for subtlety.
They collided.
He blinked once, just once, as she struck.
A swift palm to the throat, a twist of his wrist, and the constriction of his airway, and he collapsed without a sound.
She dragged him into a linen cupboard, stripped his access lanyard, and locked the door with a smooth magnetic override from her gauntlet.
Seconds later, she stood before the double doors of Caidan’s study.
