Chapter Twenty-One
She never answered, even on his third attempt.
Christian jumped to his feet and hurried around his room, packing as many supplies as he’d need to get to the temple, his heart in his throat.
His mission here was technically over. Ahna’s team was taking Nadine to Zion—to a real holding cell—in just over sixteen hours.
But they’d be fine without him. He’d told Gemma he’d race to her side if she needed him, no matter the cost.
He froze. He’d also promised Gemma he’d make sure Nadine got to Zion in one piece.
Maybe they’d given Gemma something to help her sleep. Or maybe there was a sandstorm disrupting the ability for their comms to speak at such a far distance. Gemma hadn’t called him or sent a message suggesting she was in trouble. Maybe he was just overreacting.
A loud series of three beeps rang through the SARTF earpiece. Christian tapped the device and answered.
“You good to watch Proctor ’til shift change?” Ahna asked.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing at the use of Nadine’s last name. “Proctor” was supposed to be a term of endearment for the woman he loved, and now the word was tainted.
“Yeah,” he answered Ahna. “I’ll head down there now.” Worrying about Gemma would have to wait.
Christian made his way through the dim corridors of Gallowood House. Grave shift was still ticking, and the air was heavy with that pre-dawn stillness. Solar shift wouldn’t know yet that Nadine Proctor sat in the basement. They were in for quite the surprise when they woke.
Ahna stood outside the basement door, conversing with Broadman—the solar shift’s team lead and the man who’d led the first group into Perileos. At the sight of Christian, they paused their discussion.
“Appreciate you keeping eyes on Nadine while we debrief with Philip,” Ahna said to him.
Broadman sized him up as if Christian was nothing more than a pest he wished to stomp.
“Not a problem,” he replied, ignoring Broadman’s stare.
Ahna patted him on the shoulder. “Someone will relieve you at oh-seven-hundred.”
Christian nodded and stepped in front of the electroglass screen to keep an eye on Gemma’s sister.
Like both Cho and Mira, Nadine sat in a metal chair in the middle of the makeshift prison cell, her hands bound and ankles cuffed to the chair’s legs.
But unlike Cho and Mira, a strap had been placed low on her waist as an extra precaution, tying her to the chair, as if the Systems expected she’d attempt to escape.
“I know you’re out there,” she cooed, each syllable bouncing like a nursery rhyme. “Come on. We both have a long day ahead of us, so why don’t we sit and chat to pass the time? It looks like there’s an extra chair in here. Though I have to say, it’s not very comfortable.”
When Christian refused to acknowledge her, Nadine began to sing, loud and obnoxious and completely out of tune. It sounded like someone trying to strangle a dune runner. He ground his teeth, but as time passed, her voice only grew rowdier and stronger.
“For fucks’ sake,” he mumbled before opening the door to the makeshift cell.
At the sight of him, Nadine’s crooning ceased.
A wicked grin crossed her face. “Oh, wow. Look who they sent to babysit me. If it isn’t Christian Holm himself. Colton told me all about you.”
Ignoring her taunt, Christian slid the other chair near the door and sat in it.
He tried to appear as bored by her as possible, but staring at the woman who looked so much like Gemma made him cringe.
Where Gemma was wind and courage folded into restraint, though, Nadine was fire with no damper.
She had the same dark hair but was taller and curvier than Gemma.
Nadine’s features also were a bit angular, her blue eyes gleaming with a dangerous kind of pride.
“I can see why my sister fell for you.” Her voice danced, singsong and razor thin. “You really are quite handsome.” Nadine ran her gaze down Christian’s body slowly, eyeing him like a predator in heat.
When he didn’t rise to the bait, she tilted her head. “Not going to say hello?” she teased. “Bit rude, considering I’m tied to a chair.”
He continued to glare at her.
She laughed softly. “Right. Silent type. I get it. Keeps the mystery alive.” Her eyes glittered beneath the flickering lights. “You don’t look like a Systems loyalist. Not really. A little too sharp around the edges.”
Christian kept his expression neutral, though his jaw flexed once.
Nadine leaned forward slightly, straining against her cuffs.
“Let me guess. You passed your Trials, thinking you could make things better. Like maybe if you were the one pulling the trigger, fewer innocent people would get caught in the crossfire.” She sat back.
“Or maybe you’re just on the run from the Falaichte and are so jaded, you don’t really care who you kill. ”
His nostrils flared.
She smirked. “Got ya.”
A younger version of himself would’ve taken the bait, would’ve snapped back or paced the floor or have even shoved a chair. But now, he knew how to wait.
Christian propped one foot on top of its opposite knee and fixed his eyes on her with the steady calm of a man built for siege. Unfortunately, Nadine had also learned how to play the game.
“I’m curious,” she said, “did they give you a badge before or after they knew how many concussions you’ve caused? Oh yeah. I know who you are. The ring-fighter everyone put money on. Pride of the Falaichte.”
He didn’t answer.
“Not that I’m judging. Everyone’s got a body count these days. The difference is some of us admit it.”
His hands were clenched so tightly they hurt. But he still refused to reply.
“I bet you think this is a win,” she added, smile never faltering. “You caught the big bad rebel. Stopped the smuggling lines. Maybe you even think the worst is behind you.”
Christian didn’t flinch, didn’t move. Just stared.
Nadine tilted her head. “You don’t talk much, do you? Colton said you were like that. Thoughtful, brooding, terrifying in a fight.”
He didn’t respond.
Nadine sighed dramatically. “You know, it’s funny. I used to think the Systems were the most dangerous thing crawling through the galaxies. But then there’s you. The dog who turned on the very people he tried so hard to protect.”
Heat burned up his neck as the hold on his temper began to dwindle.
“So, tell me,” she said sweetly, “when did you figure out they’d never let you save her?”
That hit like a solid punch to the groin. He kept his face still, despite the steep hike in his pulse rate, but Nadine smiled like she’d seen it.
“Oh yeah, I also know about you and Gemma. You think Colton didn’t tell me every last detail he could remember? She’s my sister. I know she survived the Trials. I even know all about the little adventure you all took across Reva.”
Christian’s jaw ticked, but he forced himself to stay planted, his fists clenched so tightly that they started to cramp.
Nadine drove the blade deeper. “Colton said Gemma found a temple, and afterward her eyes turned violet. That her blood wasn’t red anymore. He even said she shielded herself from the desert drifters with some violet light. Sounds . . . alien.”
Bile burned his throat. He forced himself to stay still, to breathe.
Nadine’s smile turned smug. “Tell me, Christian. What do you think the Systems will do to someone they see as a threat?”
The casual venom in her tone made his skin crawl.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered before he could stop himself.
Her voice turned silky. “Oh, I think I do.”
His heart thundered.
“See, I did some digging after Colton told me about what happened, and it turns out, there was a race that lived on Reva a thousand years ago. Which got me thinking, what if Gemma awoke something in that temple? What if it possessed her?” Nadine’s eyes narrowed.
“You think the Systems are going to let that slide?”
His breath caught.
“They’re probably studying her right now,” Nadine added, her voice like poison. “Locked away, sedated. Watching her mutate from behind a one-way screen.”
“Shut up,” he snapped.
Nadine grinned like she’d just drawn blood. “It burns, doesn’t it? Knowing you can’t get to her? Knowing that even if you did, you might be too late?”
He jumped off the chair.
“You think they’re gonna let her walk around like that, with that kind of power?” Nadine’s smile sharpened. “Come on, Holm. You’ve seen what they do to anything they don’t understand.”
Christian pointed his finger at her. “Stop talking. Right now. Or so help me—”
“What? You’re going to attack a helpless prisoner?” She leaned back, her eyes blazing with spite.
“Don’t put it past me.”
“I dare you, then. Come on, Christian. Get revenge for your girl since you know she’ll never breathe free air again.”
Any control he had over his anger snapped.
Christian’s chair screeched against the floor as he flung it across the room. It slammed into the far wall with a crack loud enough to make Nadine flinch.
But then—stars help him—she laughed.
“Touch a nerve?” she called after him as he stormed out of the holding cell. The reinforced door hissed shut behind him with a sharp clang.
Back in front of the electroglass screen, his breaths came too fast. He planted his hands on his head, fingers splayed wide, and forced himself to inhale through his nose and count to four. But he could still hear Nadine’s laughter through the wall. High-pitched. Mocking.
He fumbled for his comm.
“Call Gemma Proctor,” he ordered.
Three soft chimes, then silence.
He tried again. And again. And a fourth time.
Each unanswered call frayed something deeper in him, until finally, he slammed the heel of his palm against the wall.
“She’s fine,” he told himself aloud. “She’s fine.”
But the words didn’t hold.
His eyes locked on Nadine through the glass. She’d stopped laughing now. She just sat there, smiling, like she knew.