Starfall (Starflight #2)(69)
“What a bastard,” Doran muttered. “That’s why he sent her out on the food cart. She collected the names and faces of everyone who came and went from that hub.”
“And then he erased the details before she could tell anyone,” Kane added. “Now she’s overdue for a purge, right? Hence the migraines.”
“Exactly,” Cassia said. “The specialist couldn’t help, but he gave Renny the name of a guy who might be able to remove it.” She gripped the door latch and warned, “Fleece might be listening, so don’t say anything he can use against us.”
The lights inside Arabelle’s room were turned off, but the hallway’s glow revealed her petite form curled up on the cot, a damp rag slung over her forehead. She was crying—not a faint sniffle, but the closed-mouthed sob of someone trying to muffle a great deal of pain. Sympathy swelled behind Kane’s ribs. He’d shoveled his fair share of shit in life, but no one had ever fused a microchip to his optic nerve and used him as a human probe.
Solara sat on the edge of the cot and used her fingertips to massage Belle’s temples. The act seemed to bring instant relief, because Belle unclenched her shoulders and went limp. She felt around blindly until her hand found Solara’s knee.
“Thank you, ’Lara.”
“How’d you know it was me?”
“You smell like engine grease.”
Doran smiled. “Better than fish.”
“Tell me about the wine,” Belle said, her voice slurred from exhaustion but sincere, as though she wanted to live vicariously through the details. “Was it as delicious as I’ve heard?”
“Even better,” Solara lied, having never tasted a drop.
“We wanted to bring back a few bottles, but there wasn’t time,” Kane said. “Now we have an excuse to go back someday.”
Cassia glanced at him through her periphery. He searched for some sign as to what she was thinking, but her eyes gave nothing away and she looked quickly back at Belle.
Since there was nothing he could do, he decided to go.
He backed into the hall and headed toward the common room. A throat cleared from behind, and he turned to discover Cassia had followed him. She stood in the doorway of the quarters they used to share and gestured for him to come inside.
She didn’t need to ask him twice.
In the span of a few heartbeats he had already joined her and shut the door. She faced away, making her intentions impossible to read, so he stood patiently by the door to give her space. He didn’t want to lose ground by pushing her too hard.
“I was thinking,” she finally began, and then her damned com-bracelet started beeping again. Kane gritted his teeth. He hated that thing. He wanted to flush it out the waste port and force Jordan to handle his own problems for a change.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” he said.
“No, you can stay.”
But he didn’t want to. He couldn’t stand Jordan, and besides, he doubted Cassia trusted him enough to speak freely with her general. As she accepted the transmission, he reached for the door latch. But then he heard a man’s nasally voice say “Hello, dear Cassy,” and his blood turned colder than a butcher’s heart.
Glowering at them from the center of the room was none other than Marius Durango’s hologram. Kane glanced behind the image, but Jordan was nowhere in sight. He didn’t recognize the furnishings in the background, but the rich wood tables and plush chairs indicated Marius had somehow returned to his palace.
Cassia froze with her mouth forming a perfect circle. The question how? was etched on her face, but she couldn’t seem to force it past her throat.
“Yes, my dear, I promised I would find a way out of your prison, and I always keep my word.” Marius drew out his final syllable in a clear attempt to remind them of his other promises, like I’ll have your eyes gouged out and every inch of your skin flayed from your bones. “Your general was kind enough to link me to your band…after I threatened to drop poison capsules in your city’s water supply.”
“What do you want?” Cassia asked.
“My queen at home, where she belongs.”
“And where’s that? In the family crypt?”
Marius laughed coldly at her. “As if I would spend eternity rotting beside you. No, when I kill you, I’ll bury your remains someplace more fitting. Like the landfill.”
“You are as charming as they say,” Kane quipped. “How could any girl resist an offer like that?”
Marius fixed his gaze on Cassia when he spoke. “She won’t resist. Because now I know what’s making your people sick.” He flashed a razor-thin smile that transformed his face into something monstrous, like a wax statue with a slit where its mouth belonged. “My father earned quite the reputation for his neurological inventions, a reputation that reached all the way to Ari Zhang on Earth. It turns out the mafia commissioned my father for a delightful project before he died—a poison to subdue the masses.”
“And let me guess,” Cassia cut in. “In exchange for this poison, the mob agreed to supply him with weapons.”
“A win-win deal.” Marius’s smile widened. “My father handed over his greatest invention, but he reserved plenty for himself. I just discovered it in his lab, along with his journal. It seems he wanted to study the long-term effects of the product before using it on our people, so he set his equipment to release small doses to a different kingdom. You’ll never guess who he’s been using as test subjects.”