Chapter 28
DAVEN
The stolen hovercraft drifted beneath the shadow of the storm platform. Lightning flashed through the clouds, turning the metal structures above Helion into jagged silhouettes.
Daven cut the engine, letting the craft settle against a maintenance rail with a dull scrape as the wind pushed hard against the hull. “It never fucking storms like this on Helion.”
And none of them had seen it coming.
Vandor opened the hatch first, cold air rushing inside.
Daven climbed out after him, his boots hitting wet metal. The platform stretched outward in long industrial corridors around them, all pipes and processing vats and narrow walkways disappearing into the mist. “What the fuck has happened here?”
Lightning flickered through the structure, throwing the entire platform into brief flashes of silver and black.
The storm churned around them, metal groaning under the wind.
Vandor moved past him, checking the nearest corridor with quick, efficient movements. “During times of peace, this place is supposed to be empty.”
Daven kept staring down the stretch of wet metal and shadow. “Does this look empty to you?”
Vandor glanced toward the vats, the sealed containers, the rails vanishing into mist. “I guess not.”
Daven frowned. No one was supposed to come here. These platforms hung above Helion, empty in peacetime and left to rust in the storm.
And yet...
A sharp chemical stink cut through the cold air.
He turned toward a stack of cracked containers near the wall and shoved one with his boot. Something dark and half-frozen had leaked across the metal beneath it. “What the fuck is that?”
Vandor crouched, looking at it without touching. “Hasn’t been here long.”
If the place was supposed to be empty, why the hell had she sent them here?
Daven looked at him. “You saw her, right? You saw her in the window. Tell me you saw her.”
Vandor straightened and gave a short nod. “I saw her.”
Daven looked back down the corridor. “Then this is where she wanted us.”
But why?
Lightning flashed again, silvering the pipes, the vats, the endless wet railings.
Daven swallowed and started forward. “Fine,” he muttered. “Then show us what the fuck we’re looking for.”
Another flash of lightning lit the deeper structure inside the storm, revealing metal towers, massive storage tanks, and thick cables feeding into the platform’s central core.
Daven followed Vandor down the narrow walkway, his hand resting lightly on the weapon at his hip. His jaw tightened when Vandor moved ahead again, too close for his liking, too comfortable beside the place Ryneth should’ve been. Useful bastard. Annoying bastard.
“You talk more than usual tonight.”
Vandor didn’t look back. “You also talk more than usual.”
“Jealous?”
Vandor stopped and turned slightly. “Of what?”
Daven stepped past him and continued down the corridor. “Of Ryneth.”
“You keep talking.”
“And you keep listening.”
The walkway turned sharply around a cluster of chemical tanks, bright white light spilling from the next chamber as voices echoed somewhere inside.
Vandor lifted a hand and both men moved toward the corner, keeping close to the metal wall.
A chamber opened below them.
Daven stopped. For a second, all he could do was stare.
A handful of worktables had been set up across the floor under harsh lamps, the whole space thrown together inside the metal skeleton of the storm platform.
Large containers stood open beneath the lights while masked workers moved between them, their white coats streaked with dark stains.
Others sealed smaller canisters and shoved them into transport crates stacked near the far wall.
Vapor curled through the air.
The smell hit him a second later.
Daven’s hand tightened on the railing. “What the fuck…”
Lightning flashed through the chamber, silvering the masks, the steel, the dark liquid sloshing inside the open containers.
“Daven—”
“I see it.” He kept staring. “That’s Attica.”
Vandor came up beside him, looking down at the floor below. “Shit. Their drug lab was here the whole time?”
“Right above us. Those fuckers.”
He watched one worker pour a thick black stream from a larger vat into a row of sealed containers while another locked down a crate beside him.
“All that hatred.” Daven stared at the vats. “With this volume, they could hook half the fucking city.”
Lightning pulsed through the structure again, bright enough to make the metal hum under his hands.
“It also explains the storms,” Vandor muttered.
Daven looked out into the dark beyond the platform, then back at the lab below. “Yeah. This place shouldn’t be pulling this much power. Not now. Not with an army nowhere near this place. They’re feeding it from somewhere else.”
Vandor’s gaze tracked across the steel around them. “So Concordant set this up for them, and in exchange—”
“Bought themselves time,” Daven said.
His mouth hardened at the thought of Ryneth in that cage. Beaten. Taken through Helion’s skies while everyone still had to pretend the rules mattered.
He looked down at the lab below. “That’s the game. They feed us Attica, let us think we’re winning, and build this over our heads while we look the other way.”
“We should tell Kylix.”
“He knows enough,” Vandor said. “But we can’t hit two enemies at once. So we take the one in front of us.”
Daven tapped his multi-slate. “The others better hurry the fuck up.”
No connection. Of fucking course.
“Look.”
Something small and metallic glinted on the railing beside them, half hidden in the shadows.
Daven reached for it. “What the hell is—”
It slipped loose beneath his fingers.
Dropped.
Tick.
Tick, tick, tick.
The sound bounced off the lower platforms as it disappeared into the lab below.
Daven went still. “Oh, fuck.”
Down below, one of the white-masked workers stopped. Slowly, he lifted his head.
“Well. That’s not ideal.”
Vandor was already moving.
Two shots cracked through the chamber, loud enough to punch through the storm.
The masked man dropped before he could run away.
The whole lab erupted.
“Raise the alarm!” a voice shouted.
“Well,” Daven said, pushing off the railing as he rolled his shoulders. “So much for subtle.”
“That didn’t last long,” Vandor said.
“Nope.”
The guard glanced toward the production floor as more masked figures started moving between the tables. “Your plan?”
Daven checked the chamber below. “Shoot the ones with weapons.”
“And the rest?”
Daven stepped onto the railing. “Improvise.”
Gunfire erupted across the facility, the echoes ringing through the hollow steel corridors. Alarms began screaming somewhere deeper inside the structure.
Daven vaulted over the rail and landed hard on the metal floor below.
Masked figures rushed forward through the production lines, white coats flashing between the vats while a handful of rifles came up in shaking hands.
Daven fired twice.
Two armed men dropped between the processing vats. One crashed into a metal support, sending sealed vials skidding across the floor.
Vandor hit the ground beside him and fired into the narrow space between the tables, dropping another man before he could get a clean shot off.
More figures poured in from the outer walkways.
Daven looked up, tracking the movement spreading across the platform. “How the fuck are there so many?”
Vandor fired again, then caught one by the shoulder and shoved him back hard enough to tear the mask loose.
It came away sideways, revealing a hard jaw, old scar tissue, and black ink crawling up the man’s throat.
Vandor’s expression changed. “These aren’t rebels. They’re hired muscle.”
Daven’s stomach dropped. “Of course they brought mercs.” His smile came back, meaner this time. “Good.”
For a second, his fingers brushed the inside of his wrist. The bond throbbed once, then harder, urgent enough to make his stomach turn.
Don’t come searching for me, baby, he thought. Please. Not this time.
Lightning exploded across the storm above them and wind howled through the open structure, rattling the metal framework as the platform shuddered under the pressure.
Daven reloaded quickly. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Vandor stepped back beside him, scanning the chamber while another burst of gunfire cracked across the production floor. “Your optimism continues to impress me.”
“It’s a gift.”
Gunfire erupted again, and the storm platform dissolved into chaos.
? *
?
Gunfire echoed across the platform while storm wind howled through the open structure, whipping chemical vapor across the production floor.
Daven dropped behind a stack of cargo crates as rifle fire ripped through the metal rail beside him hard enough to shower sparks across his shoulder.
More white masks poured into the chamber.
He dragged in a breath, pulse hammering hard enough to make his fingers twitch around the grip of his gun. He’d already lost track of how long they’d been fighting.
How the fuck were there still more of them?
The bond pulsed faintly again.
Stay safe, baby. Just stay alive until I get back to you.
Vandor hit the ground beside him, dropped one of the mercs in the narrow gap between the tanks, then slid into cover at Daven’s side. Daven leaned out and fired twice. One went down. The other vanished behind the tables.
Gunfire cracked back hard enough to drive him into cover again.
“They’re closing in,” Vandor said, breathing harder now.
Daven wiped rain and sweat from his brow. “I noticed.”
“If this goes bad, I won’t let them take you.”
Daven looked at him sideways.
For one hard second, neither of them joked.
Then Daven bared his teeth. “I’d be offended if you did.”
Another burst tore through the chamber, close enough to make the crate jump between them.
They were too close now. Too many.
Power pressed through the open structure, wild enough that if he let it out here, he could rip the platform open or send the chemical tanks up with it. It made his fingers flex. It made his palm heat.
“Fuck,” he muttered, forcing it back down.
If this went bad here, in this fucking sky prison, the bond would go quiet and Ryneth would be waiting for someone who would never return.
Silver eyes. That sharp mouth. The way Ryneth looked at him like he saw straight through the title, the power, all of it.
There was still so much he hadn’t said. So much he still wanted.
He couldn’t die here. Not before Ryneth knew. Not before he got back to him.
Daven’s eyes snapped open. The pressure in the air had changed.
A deep thunder rolled through the clouds above the platform as dark shapes moved through the storm above the outer ring. More followed.
Something was dropping through the storm, fast.
Then he saw the black and gold.
They came down in formation through the open industrial lanes, fast and controlled through the rain.
Daven let out a short laugh under his breath. “Perfect timing.”
Across the production floor, the Attica rebels froze for half a second, their white masks turning upward.
Then alarms erupted across the facility. Red lights flared to life along the outer ring of the platform, warning signals flashing through the storm.
Ropes dropped from above. Black and gold uniforms flashed against the storm light as Luminary soldiers descended onto the platform. Some of them were familiar faces from the academy.
The Luminary.