“Komagnor. I dare you,” Jesse shouted. He stood in front me, feet shoulder width apart, arrow nocked. With Michio and Roark on either side, they formed a wall, blocking my view.
Twenty yards away, Cliff lay in prone position, rifle trained on the commotion I couldn’t see. Where were Georges and Tallis?
“Snub. Go back where you come,” a voice bellowed in a heavy German-like accent.
The volume of sputtering V-twins told me we were outnumbered, but that wasn’t what locked up my muscles. It was the familiar buzz curling through my belly. Beside me, the hair on Darwin’s ruff stood on end.
I wedged through Jesse and Michio. A line of motorcycles stretched across the horizon. Close enough to see the knotted beards and weathered goggles protecting human faces.
Pressed between battle-ready muscle, I whispered to Jesse, “I feel aphids.”
He didn’t move, didn’t look at me. “We cleared the area of them.”
My teeth clicked together. “Then you missed some, asshat.”
The bikers jerked heads in my direction and the man in front held up his hand. “Kona.” He gestured to the riders on his right and thrust his finger my way. The men on his left raised rifles.
Violent shudders rocked my body, shaking my hold on the carbine. “What’s Kona?”
The red-hue in Jesse eyes, aimed at the leather-clad men, sparked to flame. “Woman.”
I fought the need to swallow. A shroud of stillness settled over us, each man waiting for the other to move.
A gurgling cry broke the silence. Followed by another and another, morphing into a symphony of terror. On the outskirts of the line, bikes tumbled. Bodies dropped, dodging jaws, and failing.
Aphids darted out of overturned trucks and shredded hangars. Screams and bullets tore across the airstrip.
I targeted white eyes and squeezed the trigger. Crimson misted the cloud-stuffed sky and stained the tarmac.
Roark’s sword swung to my left, slashing through aphids breaking from the fray. Arrows flew on my right. I could feel the smooth glide of Michio’s movements against my back.
“Are we surrounded?” I shouted over my shoulder.
“Eyes forward, Evie. I’ve got your back.”
The carbine popped in my grasp. Bikers bucked on the ground beneath bone-crushing jowls. Soon, the motorcycles were abandoned and the owners lay gutted and drained, awaiting transformation.
Heaving bodies bent over their food, sucking and slurping, then raised hungry eyes to us. Mouthparts retracted and they stood as one.
My companions backed up, all but Cliff. “Where’s—”
A few yards away, he clung to a mutated body, clenched in an embrace.
“Oh, no, no. Fuck no,” Jesse screamed, releasing an arrow.
The aphid dropped. Cliff rolled with it, his chest cavity open, hooked by the mutant’s mouth. Angling his head, his tortured eyes snared mine, his jaw convulsing in a silent scream.
I didn’t think, just aimed the carbine and pulled the trigger, ending his life before the teeth of un-life took hold.
A floodgate of nausea released in my gut. The spurting hole in Cliff’s head. Jesse’s bloodshot eyes latched on his friend. The twenty or thirty aphids, snarling and sprinting toward us. I swapped mags, choking down bile, and raised the carbine.
The windup of propellers whistled across the tarmac. The gunship rolled into view and turned. The side-firing barrels rotated as the minigun plowed through the approaching swarm. I hit the ground and cupped my ears against the deafening jackhammer noise. After a few minutes, the minigun fell silent.
The nearby fissure hissed sulfur into the air. Sheet metal rippled above the hangars. Blood soaked the turned up snow. Darwin paced a circle around me and sat on my boots.
When the propellers slowed to a stop, I raised a brow at Michio.
“Tallis and Georges.” He slid his cane inside his leather duster. “Quick thinking.”
I gave into a much needed swallow and found my mouth dry. Jesse pulled me to my feet, eyes on Cliff’s body. Then he spun on his boot heel and pitched over his shoulder, “Ivar waits.”
* * *
Ivar. Jesse’s no-last-name-non-English-speaking contact spoke one word we all knew. Aphid.
We met him on the outskirts of the airfield, where he corralled a dozen Icelandic horses. The man soared at around six and a half feet. His mammoth bone structure was prominent in his square face and I bet his untamed mane kept him warm on Iceland’s cold nights.
He was mirrored by his four sons who stood next to him, taking up a shitload of space. I didn’t catch their names, but they all ended in a gruff arrr.
Michio and Jesse knew a few Icelandic words and we collectively understood the Ivar family’s terse grunts and distrusting glares.
Roark leaned down from where he towered on his mount. “Where’d your Lakota find these quare hawks and why are we hoofing it?”
“I don’t know, but look at the size of their horses. What the hell’s in the food supply around here?”
Michio sidled his horse alongside Roark. “We’re hoofing it because there are no roads where we’re going.” He stretched out his hand to me.
“Um…I counted,” I said. “There are enough horses for everyone.”
“And what will you do when we run into aphids?” Michio’s hand waited.
“Rip off my clothes and ride naked through the streets? Might get me a Yang volunteer.”
He didn’t encourage me with a response. I clasped his hand and he swung me in front of him.
A few minutes into the trek, his hand found the hems of my coat and shirt and slipped beneath. His fingers flattened over my ribs and traced the underside of my breast. “I’m making love to you as soon as we find shelter.”
“If we live that long.”
“Decide you want to live, and you will.”
A tingly feeling spread under his fingertips. “If I let myself dream, I see a long life. With you. And this guy”—I reached for horse beside us and snatched Roark’s hand from his thigh—”and maybe even with that guy up there.”
Jesse turned in his saddle and met my gaze. His grin shocked me as much as it pleased me, shooing away some of the doubt I harbored about the future.
When Michio’s hand retreated, I grabbed it, held it in my lap, and lowered my voice so only he could hear me. “I look forward to making love to you tonight. And every night after.”
His fingers flexed, clutching my waist, pulling me close.
Hooves clopped along the barren streets of Reykjavik in the dim light of dusk. Ivar and sons led, strapped with axes welded to long hafts. Darwin sprinted ahead with ears back and tongue slapping to the side. Jesse’s hired hands brought up the rear.
The cavalry grew edgy as the shadows slithered over the multicolored roofs. The darkening buildings seemed to animate with the same flux that pulsed in the air. Every time the wind creaked a door or a hoof kicked debris, an ax swooshed up.
Jesse pulled back to ride beside us, his boot tapping mine.
“You didn’t tell the barbarians I can sense the aphids?” I asked him.
“No translator. Makes conversation limited.”
“But you were able to contact them and tell them we were coming?”
He nodded, eyes on the sky. “I still have a network of contacts and a means to leave messages.” His gaze rested on me. “Don’t worry about it, Evie.”
“It’s not worry—”
Tremors pinched my insides. My muscles went taut and I knew Michio could feel the vibrations under his hand. He snapped open the buttons of my coat. I balanced the carbine on my lap and pulled my arms out of the sleeves. My sweatshirt went next. A shiver raced to my core.
Michio’s bare chest covered my back. He wrapped his arms and my coat around the front of my sports bra. “How many?”
Murmurs hissed through my bloodstream. The linked tentacles spread in all directions, pitching and swaying. “Too many to count.”
Jesse nocked an arrow and Roark’s horse moved closer. His hand slipped under my hair, curled around my neck. “Which way, love?”
I scanned the dark structures looming over us, but I saw with my gut. “They’re approaching from the side streets. Stay on this road. I’ll hold them.”
The horse jerked under our thighs, expelling heavy chuffs. The other horses side-stepped, tried to back up.
Ivar wrestled with his mount’s bucking head. “Aphid.”
The alleys lit up with the glow of green flames. I drew from the strength touching me and breathed, Stay.
The aphids quivered. Some tumbled onto the main road. Stay rolled off me in a steady drum.
There were grunts of surprise at seeing the mutated Icelanders glued to the road. Then the arrows flew, the rifles boomed and axes swung. I held the aphids in an execution style line-up as our horses thundered past.
Green bodies splattered and dropped. Eventually, the volley and swoosh of weapons quieted, as did the hum inside me.
The corridor of buildings began to space further apart. Soon, there were no buildings at all.
Michio pulled our mount to a stop in the center of a snow-covered plain. We slipped back into our shirts and coats, my limbs moving through a fog. Michio’s hand pressed against my brow then rested on the pulse at my throat. I gripped the withers to balance against a bout of chills and dizziness.
“Her heart rate—” He dropped his hand and shouted, “Beckett.”
Jesse was there with a pouch in his hand. “What does she need?”
“Sugar.” Michio leaned my back on his chest.
Roark’s eyes burned through the icy dark, creased with worry. I intertwined my fingers with his. “Stop that. I’m getting better at this.”
His thumb made shaky whorls on my wrist.
Jesse shook a canteen and tipped it at my mouth. The sugary orange drink thickened in my throat, but within a few minutes, my senses came back on line.
He replaced the cap. “Is it always like this?”
I lifted a shoulder. “When there are too many bugs or not enough energy.”
“She had a seizure when we escaped Malta.” Michio’s hands clenched on my thighs.
The tightness in Jesse’s shoulders bled into his eyes. When his horse stomped a hoof, he snapped out of it. “We’ll camp against that bluff.” He gestured across the plain before us, his hand faltering as we digested the red and white vista.
As far as we could see, human, aphid, and unidentifiable beasts lay where they fell, bones exposed and gnawed by weather. A patchwork of pristine snow, shadowed mounds, and moonlit splashes of crimson.
I hugged the carbine as we wound our way through the frozen graveyard and set up camp on the other side.
Michio erected our tent, ushered me inside, and lit a candle. “You need to eat.”
I curled into a ball on the bedroll, chilled from the temperature and side-effects of aphid control.
The tic in his jaw triggered a smoldering war in his expression. He straddled my hips, hands on either side of my head, and lowered his head. “I want nothing more than to feed you, strip you and feast on every inch of your body.” Another tic. “But given the exertion you underwent, we’re sticking to food.”
I rolled to my back. “Don’t be dramatic. We can—”
The tent flap zipped open. Roark pushed through and froze, eyes locked on Michio.
Michio sat back on his heels. “If you brought food, your timing’s perfect.”
The waft of roasted meat followed him in and my stomach growled in greeting.
“Ye should be resting,” Roark said as he and Michio bandied glares.
“Knock it off. Both of you.”
Roark didn’t break the stare down, but his shoulders relaxed. “Doc, Beckett and I will take turns keeping watch.”
“What about the five woolly mammoths wielding axes of unusual size?” I asked.
“They’re quare.” Roark said, as if that was answer enough.
I propped up on an elbow. “Then I’ll take a shift.”
“No,” they said in chorus.
I slumped to my back and sawed my teeth.
Roark leaned around Michio and kissed my bottom lip. “Get cheesed off all ye want. This isn’t negotiable.”
“The sun will be up before three A.M.” Michio’s eyes didn’t waver from Roark’s. “You need to sleep while you can.”
I swiped a hand over my face, hating their rivalry. “Can we just—” Could we what? Hold hands around the campfire and sing Kumbaya?
Two pairs of eyes watched me, waiting.
“This is going to sound girly—”
“Can I just point out that ye are a girl?”
I narrowed my eyes at Roark. “You both have managed to weasel your way into my heart”—which was somersaulting over the idea—” and that’s a complication by itself without the I’m-gonna-stab-you-when-she’s-not-looking glares defiling your pretty faces.”
Michio burst out laughing. “No one’s stabbing anyone.”
Roark stared at his lap. “We wen’ kill each other, love.”
I blew a wayward hair from my eye. Fine. If they weren’t concerned, neither was I.
Roark set a crumpled tin plate on my stomach heaping with shredded meat burnt on the ends. Funny how survival had wiped out my vegetarianism. I had no clue what we were eating, but between the three of us, the meat vanished within minutes. The last chunk lodged in my throat. I would not becounting the horses again.
Beneath a fur-lined blanket, I hunkered between Roark and Michio. Heat rolled off them and chased away my shivers. And I slept.
Sometime during the night, I woke bleary-eyed and chilled despite Michio’s warmth on my front. His body rose and fell through deep breaths of sleep. I uncurled from him, slipped on my coat, boots, and artillery.
Outside the tent, Roark bowed over a bent knee, forehead resting on clasped hands. I crouched beside him, taking in the curve of lashes feathered over his cheeks, the full lips moving in soundless reverence, the pearlescent rosary beads winding over scarred knuckles. “Keeping watch with your eyes shut? Some guardian you are.”
He leaned in and pressed his smile against mine. Then his eyes blinked open, roamed my face. “Why are ye up?”
Darkness closed around us. The sky was starless, but could very well be full of things lying in wait. “Where’s Jesse?”
He sighed, but his finger rose and pointed where the shadows slanted over the lava-formed bluff. “Go on. I’m watching.”
The frozen wool grass crunched under my boots, making a racket in the heavy silence. I passed one of Ivar’s sons and nodded. The fume of cigarette smoke signaled Tallis’ proximity.
Jesse’s huddled form took shape at the foot of the cliff. His arms wrapped around his knees. His bow lay at his feet.
I stopped a foot before him. “Don’t be a child. Sleep in the tent. If not mine then one of the others.”
Cracking ice groaned across the barren terrain.
I swooped up his bow and walked back. Halfway there, he lifted the bow from my grip, but kept his stride in step with mine.
At the tent, I let my fingers rake through Roark’s hair and crawled under the flap. Jesse lingered at the entrance.
“Come on, Jesse. Michio can sleep between us. I won’t touch you.” I paused, smiled. “Of course, I can’t speak for him.”
Michio’s eyes cracked and his lips tugged up. Even tenuous, that smile curled my toes. I made a mental note to tease him more often.
I shed my coat and boots and Jesse did the same. Then I nestled into the warmth of Michio’s chest. A moment later, Jesse floated over us. He stretched behind me and his pelvis cupped my backside. My breath caught.
“Don’t you dare wiggle.” He rested his hand on my hip.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” But dream of it was exactly what I did.
In the light of daybreak, I opened my eyes to find Jesse watching me from inches away. Thoughts shifted in the depth of his gaze. Lost in his secrets.
I could tell by the height of the man at my back that Roark was curved around me.
“Did I wiggle?” I whispered.
The air between us thickened. He touched my cheek, his thumb padding my bottom lip. “You make things damn difficult, darlin’.” His husky Texan accent shot my heart to my throat.
I crooked up my mouth and took his thumb with it. “I try.”
He dropped his hand and raised his eyes to the ceiling where the sun pierced through the seams. “Wake your snoring priest. We need to keep moving.”
* * *
The spirally patterns of rhyolite formations guided us through the mountains. Our mounts kicked up the volcanic soil and nibbled at the sparse vegetation. The ever-present risk of following the pebbles down the steep unpredictable ledges kept us alert. Falling to our deaths seemed to be the only threat. Still, my pulse roared with the occasional clap of wings or the flash of a shape sprang by the shading slopes.
That night, we camped beside a geothermal spa. Everyone took turns bathing and guarding. Then we slept along the edge on the soft bed of moss. Jesse, Roark and Michio split the guard over me. When it was Jesse’s turn to sleep, he took Roark’s position at my back.
On the third day, we guided our weary mounts over glaciers, sand, grass and volcanic rock. A terrain battling for identity, the plains and buttes pushed steam from its pores and blotted the horizon with billows of vapor.
We followed the sound of moving water and when we reached the river, we stood in awe of the powerful surge dropping in towering multi-level waterfalls.
Michio pointed to a charred rock wall near the lowest level. “We’re here. Landmannalaugar.”
Amidst the geologic chaos, a leafy-covered steel door hung from the face of the ridge. My eyes followed the hyaloclastite ledges up, up, up to the ice-capped peak.
“The labs are through there.” Michio pointed at the door and alighted the horse. “Inside Hekla volcano.”
Of course they were. His hands clutched my waist and he slid me down. Then he turned toward the door, fisting his cane. The tip glinted with blades.
A tumult twined my insides, something I hadn’t felt since Reykjavik. We hadn’t seen an aphid since then. Why was that?
I released the carbine from its mount on the horse and Michio tapered his eyes at me. The tingling dimmed. I shook my head.
“Evie.” Roark appeared in front of me. “Wha’ is it?”
“I don’t—”
A giggle bounced along the rocky backdrop and raised the hair on my nape. I’d recognize my daughter’s sweet laugh anywhere. My shoulders bunched to my ears. “Where’s Jesse?”
Roark hovered so close his breath wisped my hair. “Den’ ye get buggered looking for him all the time?” He raised my chin and read my eyes. “Talk to me.”
I swallowed around a lump. The door to the labs blew open and snicked closed. “Something’s wrong. Why didn’t they come out to greet us?”
“The tunnels are deep and there’s no surveillance,” Michio replied. “But I agree. Something feels off.”
Annie’s singsong chant tiptoed across the lava field and carried above the roar of the waterfalls. Her high-pitched vibrato brushed by me. The door swung open again and slammed.
Jesse’s fingers interlaced mine. “Annie wants us to follow her in.”
I flinched. “Would she lead me into danger?”
Roark placed a hand on my elbow. “Good thought. She did lead ye to the Lakota.”
Jesse grinned and waved his hand toward the door. “After you, priest.”
* * *
Shoulder to shoulder, Michio, Jesse, Roark and I crept through the icy tunnel. Darwin slinked by, nose to the ground. Tallis and Georges trailed. Ivar and sons guarded the entrance.
We moved deeper into the volcano. Eventually, the frost melted from the walls and the air warmed. The dirt below our feet ended. Metal platforms stretched over the sloping ground to the flickering lights ahead.
Michio raised his voice over the clanking of our boots on the grates. “I haven’t been here for six months, but there were forty scientists when I left. We should’ve run into someone by now.” He nodded at the bend ahead. “We’re approaching the hub.”
Weapons at the ready, we stepped around the corner and onto an expansive balcony overlooking a pit. Scaffolding layered the multiple levels below. Tunnels and rooms branched in every direction.
We approached the railing. Our boots crunched glass. Broken equipment and workbenches were tossed across every level. Bullet holes chipped the rock walls, the metal platforms, and the furniture. I strained my eyes, scouring every nook and shadow. Not a single body, dead or alive.
“Zut alors,” Georges whispered from behind us.
“Let’s split up,” Jesse said. “Tallis, Georges, back here in thirty.”
We dispersed. Artificial light splashed over empty hallways and labs. We tossed bunks and tore out storage rooms. The facility was a shambles, the scientists gone. I leaned against the railing on the bottom level and rubbed my temples.
Jesse perched at my side. “It was the Drone’s army, wasn’t it?”
Michio nodded, lines fanning from the corners of his eyes.
A thrum bloomed in my chest and set my teeth on edge. Annie’s voice drifted from the hallway behind us with eerie clarity.
Connect the dots. La. La. Lala.
Jesse shot his eyes to me. Heat rushed to my ears. Then our heads turned toward the hall. The tail of a skirt whipped around the corner. We darted after her.
“Evie?” Roark called after me.
“It’s Annie,” I shouted over my shoulder.
Hm. Hm. Hmmm.
Connect the dots…
Every bend brought us another empty corridor, but Annie’s rhapsody didn’t falter.
We skidded at a dead end. Tiny pale fingers curled around the frame of the last doorway. The fingers whisked away. We followed with Michio and Roark on our heels.
Inside was another a storage room. Her voice muffled from within a tall cabinet.
La. La. La. La.
I trained the carbine on the cabinet door and swallowed. Jesse opened it. An entrance to another room. We stepped through, Jesse first.
A beaker crashed next to his head. Then a keyboard hit him in the chest. He nocked an arrow.
A spindly man hovered in front of a cage. He held a shaky soup can over his head. “Be gone.” His voice trembled.
“Michio,” I whispered, “Do you know this man?”
He stepped around me and shook his head. “You understand English?” he asked him.
The man nodded.
“I’m Dr. Michio Nealy. I work for the Shard. I’ve been on an undercover mission. You might have heard—.”
“Aiman Jabara?” He dropped the can, eyes bulging.
“Yes.” Michio took a step closer. “And you are?”
He thumped his chest. “Njall.” His eyes darted to the cage behind him and his chin dropped to his chest as he stepped to the side. “Her name Frida.” His English broke through a heavy Icelandic accent. “My wife.”
A hiss sprayed from the cage. Dull hair webbed her pallid face in thin strands. A hospital gown clung to her sunken frame. Tiny pupils flicked between us and a heavy rasp pushed from her lungs.
My heart banged against my ribs. Her gaze moved my feet closer. Until she opened her mouth. A tube slid in and out. Finger-like bits wiggled over the moving parts.
“I come after you left, Dr. Nealy,” Njall said as we stared at the cage. “For my wife, you see.”
“What happened here?” Michio eyes remained fixed on Frida.
“Lots of boom boom. I hide here. A week, maybe.”
Damn. We missed them by a mere week?
“Kona.” He pointed to me. “She cures? The Shard hoped.” He grabbed Michio’s arm, pulled him toward the cage. “Please.”
“Her name is Evie.” Michio’s tone was possessive as he stretched to his intimidating full height. “I’ve only tested her blood in the lab. Frida would be an experiment. You understand?”
“Please.” Puffy red skin weighted his eyes.
Michio searched my face. “Evie?”
“What do I need to do?”
He made a list of supplies and sent Jesse and Roark down the hall to collect. They returned a few minutes later with syringes, vials and a dart gun. Then he pricked my arm, filling a hollow reservoir of a tranquilizer dart with my blood.
Capture gun loaded, he aimed it at the cage. Njall shoved his fist in his mouth.
The dart sailed and landed in the nymph’s throat. She thrashed and dropped to her knees and a painful spasm erupted in my gut.
The next few moments bludgeoned by. Every sound, every stir was punctuated by a pounding in my head. Frida writhed on the floor of her cage. Annie’s chilling hum crept through the hall. And hundreds of vibrating strings knitted over my ribs, around my spine and fisted my stomach.
My lungs wheezed. I clutched the pain in my belly and ran toward the door. An army was coming.
Annie’s lilt chased me through the corridor. So did Jesse and Roark.
At the platform, Roark’s arm blocked my advance. “Aw Jaysus, your eyes.”
I didn’t give a shit how freaky my eyes looked. I fisted his cassock. “There’s an army outside. Help me stop them.”
His muscles stiffened. “Damn the devil’s hairy bollocks.”
Jesse stood next to him, brows drawn and jaw jerking. I snapped my fingers in his face. “I’ll need you, too.”
Roark’s sword swooshed as he slid it from his leather scabbard. “Get bloody on with it then.”
We united with Tallis and Georges on the balcony and updated them as we flew down the tunnel. I shed my coat and top as I ran. Roark and Jesse did the same.
The ringing in my gut whirled in a circular motion and spun up my spine. How many spots would I walk away with? Oh hell, I just needed to walk away.
“Alis volat propriis,” Georges panted at my back. “They say you fight like them, Spotted Wing. I will savourer le show.”
I huffed and burst through the door. Sweet lord, it was so cold I had to force my limbs to cooperate.
Across the field, two aphids looked up from a hollowed out body turned on its side. Daylight shined through the hole in the chest. Long blond hair swam around it. Goddammit. Ivar? His son?
One aphid snarled. The other clicked back. Their orbs turned to me.
Human screams rode in on the wind and my bones shivered.
“Stay with her, Beckett,” Roark said. “Tallis and Georges with me.” They darted for the river, where the shrieks quieted.
Oh, Roark. His name jumped into my throat and died there. He could handle himself. He’d come back.
Hundreds of insectile bodies shimmered on the horizon. A mile away? I trained the carbine on the two feeding. Could I hit the eyes at that distance? Jesse’s feathered arrows shifted in the quiver on his bare back.
“Give me an arrow, Jesse.”
He scowled at me.
“Can you make the kill shot from here?”
“Can’t you hold them while I run over there?” he asked.
“And give the army time to move closer?” I held out my hand.
He plucked out an arrow and pressed it into my waiting palm.
I punched the ice pick tip into the crease of my elbow. The burn reached my fingertips.
“You’re mad,” Jesse said.
Blood flowed onto the point. Then I handed it back to the still scowling Lakota. “You don’t have to hit the eyes. Trust me.”
He nocked the arrow and let it fly. It pierced the widest target, the chest of the closest one. The bulging body jerked. A flickering current danced through me.
The aphid flopped to the ground and exploded in a fountain of innards.
The remaining bug raised a claw. It snapped and snarled with quivering jaws. The approaching army stopped.
A howl barreled next me. Jesse was actually laughing. I wanted to laugh with him until I saw Roark sprinting back, his face twisted in rage.
“Beckett,” he yelled. “It’s Ivar, his sons.”
Jesse stilled beside me. “They’re all dead.”
Roark skidded before us. “Something like that. I’m sorry.”
My heart sank.
“Evie?” Michio’s voice turned me around. He scanned the horizon then my face. “How are you holding them?”
I shook my head. “I’m not. They’re nervous. It won’t last. What about the nymph? Did it work?”
My answer shuffled out of the door behind him. Njall carried his wife, both squinting in the sun. Her face was sallow and her arms hung, but blue irises glowed in her human eyes.
“It worked, Nannakola. Just one injection of your blood and Frida’s human genes reactivated. She’s confused…doesn’t remember anything since the infection took over. I’ll run some tests—”
Whoosh. Whoosh.
My stomach turned over violently. A cold voice swept up my spine. Eveline.
I jerked up my head. From out the sky, a black form shot toward us. Waspy wings blurred in flight. Muscles jerked under a soaring sable cape. Claws and teeth shot out.
My guardians appeared in front of me, weapons raised. But the Drone’s onyx eyes were locked on Frida. His body turned in mid-air and Njall screamed.
Deep in the fundamental heart of mind and Universe there is a reason.
Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy