Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)(61)

I breathed out in relief when we finally began descending, and on touching down, the guard removed our handcuffs.

The hatch opened and a waft of icy air engulfed me, leaving me shivering. Climbing down the stairs, I realized we had landed atop a snowy cliff, which overlooked miles of forests, fields, and several small settlements clustered at varying intervals around us. It was evening, the sun setting in the distance.

I groaned, not looking forward to freezing my butt off again. I had been appreciating the milder temperatures since we left Alaska. I guessed shapeshifters had a penchant for the cold like coldbloods, given the first one we’d come across hanging around in Navan’s Alaskan bunker… It was still sinking in that the old homeless man I had taken pity on had been a shapeshifter all along. And the question still swirled in my head: Why?

I shook the thoughts aside as Navan reached the bottom of the stairs. The guard led us around the back of the ship, where Navan’s bag was waiting on the ground, along with, to my surprise, some kind of small flying contraption. It reminded me of a mini jet, about eleven feet in length, and narrow, with a tiny cockpit that didn’t look like it could hold more than two or three people.

I got my coat out of Navan’s bag, wrapping it around me while the guard opened up a compartment at the back of the ship, which was about big enough for one fully grown man to lie curled up inside. Within it was a metal toolbox, with an array of equipment—guns and other survival gear, including a tough metal wire, rope, candles, a gas stove, a thick sleeping bag, and knives. The folder was also there, but there was no food, though I noted they had provided some rubles in a plastic bag that I could use to buy food in one of the villages. I knew Navan would be okay, too, now that he had his bag of vials.

“This is the standard pack we issue our agents—you can use or discard what you will,” the guard explained. Navan and I gathered around him as he picked up one of the guns, what looked like a silver long-barreled pistol. “I trust you know how to use these,” he said, looking at Navan, who nodded. “There are bullets here.” The guard set down the gun and gestured to a side compartment. He then slipped his hand into a second side compartment and pulled out a beige, skin-tight suit that looked like it was made of silicon. “You have one of these, and it may come in use. It must be worn under the clothes, and, when activated”—he tapped an odd little button-shaped bump on the right wrist of the suit—“it will allow the wearer to become invisible. It’s expensive technology, so be sure to take care of it.”

I stared at the suit in awe, and I couldn’t deny I was eager to try it out. I also wondered what other mind-blowing technology this supernatural organization had stowed away.

“And this ship,” Navan said, his eyes traveling along the length of it. “You’re lending this to me?”

“You need somewhere to store all the equipment, and it will also serve as a shelter at night. It’s not powerful enough to launch you into space, so don’t even try—it’s only designed for Earth’s atmosphere. And don’t bother trying to run off with it. It’s fitted with a tracker, and we will be able to locate it easily.”

Navan nodded. “Understood.”

“If you have any questions as to its functioning, I suggest you ask me now.”

Navan walked to the cockpit and pulled open the side door. He seated himself behind the controls and examined them for a moment, before pushing gears and pressing buttons. A minute or two later, he’d successfully managed to bring it to life, and began to hover it in the air.

Navan’s eyes were wide as he gazed around the interior of the aircraft. “This is… astonishingly simple to navigate,” he said. “Clearly, your tech is very much advanced compared to ours.”

The lycan grunted, and then glanced back toward the main ship, apparently impatient to head off. “The control board is equipped with a communication device,” he said. “It’ll allow you to contact our HQ, should there be an emergency. Otherwise, I believe you’re set. Whatever happens, we’ll send out an agent to check back here in three days, same time, same place. I suggest you get to studying those files now, perhaps get a bit of sleep, and then set off to begin scouting in the early morning.”

Navan lowered the aircraft back on the snow. “Very well.”

The lycan nodded and turned, hurrying back into the main ship, and a moment later, it was rising, then zooming forward at an alarming speed, confirming my suspicion that it was no ordinary helicopter. I stared after it as it became a small dot in the sky, and then looked at Navan, sucking in a deep breath of the frigid air.

“So, we’re alone again,” I said, and gave him a small smile, attempting to lighten the mood even a little.

“Under different circumstances, I’d be thrilled to hear that,” Navan replied. His eyes were on the ship, though, and I could tell that part of him really was in awe of the thing. “And we’ve now somehow found ourselves tracking shapeshifters.” He seated himself in the cockpit, shoving the bag behind him and placing the folder on his lap. “You ready to get reading?”

I lowered myself into the passenger seat and closed the door.

“Actually,” he said, the second I had shut myself inside. “Let me rephrase that: Are you ready to go back to Texas or New York? Your choice.” He patted the control panel. “At least you’ll show up in style.”