Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, #3)(31)

The fox turned away. “Can he hear me, Loran? He seems so far.”

“I can’t hear if he’s hearing, Kirra,” answered a deep voice. “That’s beyond even my ears.”

“Are the drugs necessary? He’s already tied down to the cot. I can’t even scent his temper.” The fox disappeared, moving out of Perry’s line of sight. “Where are the Mole doctors? Sable isn’t going to like this either.”

Perry heard a door open and close, and then the sound of Kirra’s voice fading.

Above, exposed wires and pipes crisscrossed the metal ceiling. They wavered, like he was seeing them beneath water.

He could do nothing else, so he began at the left corner and worked his way right, memorizing every turn and every bend.


Time passed. He knew because Kirra returned.

“That’s better,” she said, smiling. She sat on the edge of his cot, her hip against his forearm. She was herself again— no more fox.

“I had the Dwellers lower the dosage,” she said. “You’re welcome.”

Perry could blink now. His mind felt less clouded than earlier, and he could track Kirra’s movement with his eyes. Still, he couldn’t move his limbs, and he badly wanted take his arm away from Kirra’s hip.

She glanced over her shoulder. “He looks better. Doesn’t he, Loran?”

The man who stood by the door was lean, his nose and eyes slender and hawk-like. His black hair showed no hint of graying, but he had a competent, seasoned bearing. Perry guessed the soldier to be in his forties. The stag horns at his chest were sewn in silver thread instead of the customary crimson, likely indicating a high rank in Sable’s forces.

“Much,” responded the man.

One word, but it carried hefty sarcasm.

Kirra turned back to Perry. “You came so close to getting away this morning. I thought you were going to do it. And I was so looking forward to being your prisoner.” She smiled, moving closer. “Oh, your friend? He’s the Aud who left with Aria, isn’t he? You didn’t tell me he’d be so nice to look at. Though he doesn’t compare to you.” Her gaze raked over his body. “In case you’re worried about him, you shouldn’t be. He’s locked in a holding cell. With Aria.”

Perry knew her games. She took his insecurities and hung them on a line, exposing each one.

“Bet you wish you had depended on the right people. That seems like a recurring problem in your life.”

Perry swallowed, his throat as rough and dry as bark. “I never trusted you, Kirra.”

She blinked at him, her smile widening at hearing him speak. “I know. You see me for who I am. That’s why I like you so much. You know the truth but you still don’t hate me. Well, that and you look delicious. More so when you’re moving, but—”

She quieted when the door slid open and hopped off the cot.

The man who entered was average in build, with closely shorn dark hair and eyes the color of water. A sparkling Blood Lord chain hung at his neck, the sapphires and diamonds bright against a trim dark coat.

Sable.

Fury crashed over Perry like a tidal wave. He wasn’t prepared to see his sister’s killer. He hadn’t expected the rage that tore through him. He wanted to rip Sable’s eyes from his head. Break his fingers off and snap his bones into pieces. But trapped in his body, paralyzed, the urge had nowhere to go. It pounded inside his skull, shaking loose memories of Liv.

His sister came alive in his mind. Tossing her hair over her shoulder as she laughed. Tickling Talon until tears ran down his face. Punching Roar in the arm over some joke they’d shared.

His mind felt so weak; he couldn’t push the memories away. To his horror, the pressure of tears built behind his eyes.

“Kirra, you can leave now, please,” Sable said calmly. “Loran, bring me a chair, and then you can leave as well.”

They did as instructed. Perry waited for Sable to come to the chair by the cot, to begin whatever he had planned.

He didn’t.

With every passing moment, Perry’s anxiety built. The drugs were still in him, slowing his thoughts and making his blood feel thick. He couldn’t fight his emotions. He felt his control over reality slip as horrible images flipped through his mind. Bleeding wounds. Burnt flesh and poisoned veins, each one worse.

He’d almost forgotten Sable until the Blood Lord spoke.

“Your temper is faint, but what I can scent is truly extraordinary. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m entirely responsible. The drug you’ve been given has mild psychotropic effects. I can’t imagine you’re enjoying that very much. Hess’s idea, not mine. It was intended to demoralize you. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but your near success on this mission embarrassed him. Personally, I was impressed by what you almost accomplished. I’ve been looking around. I know what you did wasn’t easy.”

Perry forced himself not to respond. He wouldn’t give Liv’s killer the courtesy of his words.

Sable came to the cot and stood over him. Once again his eyes captured Perry’s attention. Clear, but ringed in dark blue, they studied Perry with a mixture of cold calculation and amusement. “I’m Sable, by the way.”

He pulled the chair closer and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “It seems inevitable that you and I should meet, does it not?” he said. “I knew your father, your brother, and your sister. I feel as though everything has led to this. To us.