Chapter 23
KALLUS
The holorecording loops again.
The moment her tiny hand curls into a fist. The way her crimson-tinged eyes glint. The flash of her little teeth before she lunges—raw, wild, perfect—and sinks them into the teacher’s wrist.
I can’t stop watching it.
“She bit me!” the woman on the recording shrieks, clutching her arm, tears streaming down her face. “She bit me like an animal!”
Damn right, she did.
I let the recording play again, chest swelling with something I haven’t felt in years—pride.
“That’s my girl,” I whisper, a slow, reverent grin spreading across my face. “Reaper through and through.”
Ayla stands near the console, arms crossed tight over her chest. She’s been silent since she pulled the file from Earth First’s secure servers. Risked everything just to show me this.
“She’s fierce,” I say, glancing over. “Like her mother.”
Ayla doesn’t smile. Her eyes are full of shadow.
I narrow mine. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She hesitates. Then turns, tapping something on her datapad. A new file pops up. Medical data. Gene maps. Treatment logs.
I skim them. My heart slows.
Suppression treatments. Human DNA overlays. Cellular rewriting.
“No.” The word rips from my throat like a snarl. “What is this?”
Ayla flinches. “I didn’t have a choice.”
I grab the pad, scanning deeper. “You masked her bloodline. You hid what she is.”
“I protected her,” she snaps, voice breaking. “If they’d known the truth, they would’ve taken her apart molecule by molecule. I had to buy time. I had to—”
I hold up a hand. “Stop.”
The room is silent.
My hands shake. Rage coils in my gut, but it’s not for her. It’s for the ones who made her do this. Who made my mate afraid of her own child’s blood.
I place the pad down gently. Then I turn to her, stepping close.
“You kept her safe,” I say. “You did what I couldn’t. You made sure our girl survived.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. She leans into me, and I hold her. Tight. Fierce.
“She’s waking up, Ayla,” I murmur against her hair. “I saw it in her eyes. Her strength is coming. And they are not ready.”
Ayla looks up at me. “What do we do?”
I pull up the next file. Earth First’s primary facility schematics. Security details. Guard rotations. Holding cells.
“We take her back,” I say.
And this time?
Nothing will stop me.
“But how will we find her?” Ayla laments.
A low growl issues from my throat. I don’t want to do this, but I don’t think I have any choice.
“Zib,” I growl.
“Zib? Is that a star system?” she asks.
“I wish,” I groan in reply. “Zib is how we’re going to find Chelsea--if I don’t strangle him first.”
The Fratvoyan stinks of burnt sugar and motor oil. He's short—barely past my ribs—and his snout twitches constantly like a junked-out sensor drone. His name, or the approximation he offers, is Zib.
Zib is waiting before I even clear the last airlock. Furry fingers steepled, bulbous eyes blinking way too fast.
“Oh, ho! There he is!” Zib claps as if I’m a prize he’s just won. “Reaper royalty in the flesh. Or should I say, the bone?” He snickers at his own joke.
“I don’t have time for games,” I grunt, my voice gravel and iron.
“Games? No, no, my friend—this is business! Come, come.” Zib scuttles toward the nearest holotable, long vest flapping. “Bring that gorgeous mate of yours. I adore a united front.”
Ayla follows close behind me. She says nothing, but I feel the tension in her silence. Every molecule of her body is tuned to the same frequency as mine: get our daughter back, or die trying.
Zib slaps the holotable, and it buzzes to life. His claws dance across the interface.
“They’ve moved the little blossom,” he says, eyes narrowing. “Codename: Orchid. Subtle, no?”
A picture flashes. Chelsea. My daughter. Her image nearly breaks me in half.
“They’ve got her buried deep beneath an old geothermal lab in the Greenland Zone,” Zib continues. “Technically, it’s abandoned. But Earth First’s been using it for unauthorized research—genetic purification, off-book enhancements, some downright nasty stuff.”
“She’s alive?” Ayla’s voice is thin, fraying at the edges.
“Very,” Zib says, too cheerfully. “And giving her handlers hell. Bit one. Drew blood. I believe the phrase is ‘chip off the ol’ tusk,’ hmm?”
“What about Frederick?” I ask.
Zib’s eyes glitter. “Ah, the pretty snake. No longer slithering on official paths. Vanished. But rumor says he’s grown a beard, found a god, and calls himself The Purifier now. Runs a purification cult out of the tundra, just north of Orchid’s cage.”
“The IHC?”
Zib waves a hand. “Oh, they condemned Earth First after your little... performance. Officially. But I know a few names who still send them funds and look the other way. Cowards love plausible deniability.”
“If I don’t have to fight the IHC to get to him, his days are numbered,” I growl.
Ayla reaches over, slides her fingers into mine. “Then we bring our daughter home.”
“And bury anyone who gets in our way,” I finish.
Zib claps again. “Such poetry! Such violence! I’m touched.”
“Zib,” I say, voice low and dangerous, “if you’re lying—”
“Me?” He feigns offense. “Perish the thought. I adore children. Especially yours. I do hope you’ll let her chew on one of my fingers someday. Symbolic bonding.”
“You get within biting range, you’ll lose more than a finger.”
He cackles like it’s the funniest thing he’s heard in years. “Oh, you Reapers. All fire and fangs. Such a mood.”
I take the datachip and turn to go.
Zib waves cheerfully. “Say hi to the cult leader for me! And do try not to raze the whole region—ice ecosystems are so fragile.”
I’m already walking, fury roaring in my veins.
Too late.