When it all began two minutes later, he didn’t even notice at first.
A low humming sound was his first warning that something was wrong. The noise seemed to fill the air, gradually increasing in volume until it was almost a roar to his sensitive Krinar hearing.
Then the walls began to melt. Saret had never seen anything like it before: the material designed to withstand a nuclear blast seemed to liquefy from the top down, as if the building was made of wax.
Now Saret tasted fear. Sharp and acidic, it pooled low in his stomach. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be safe here, in his carefully constructed fortress . . . but he wasn’t. Saret didn’t know of any weapon that could do this – that could penetrate the same shields that protected the colonies – but his eyes didn’t lie. The walls were literally melting around him.
There was only one thing left to do: retreat and live to fight another day. For a second, Saret considered taking Mia with him, but she would slow him down and he couldn’t take that risk. He would have to come back for her.
Casting one last look at the unconscious girl on the float, Saret activated the emergency escape chute and disappeared through the building floor.
Chapter 7
“I want him found. By any means necessary. Do you understand me?” Korum was aware that his voice sounded sharp, but he could no longer contain the icy rage coursing through his veins.
Alir, the leader of the guardians, nodded. “We’ll bring him to you,” he promised, his black eyes cold and expressionless.
“Good,” Korum said curtly.
Turning around, he stalked toward the back of the room, where Ellet was sitting beside Mia and running diagnostic tests.
At his approach, the Krinar woman looked up, signs of strain evident on her beautiful face. “She should regain consciousness soon,” she said softly. “But, Korum, I’m afraid the damage has been done.”
“What are you saying?” He didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t accept that possibility.
“I’m afraid the scan is showing signs of trauma consistent with a memory loss. I’m so sorry –”
“No. You must be wrong.” His fists clenched so hard his nails entered his skin, drawing blood. “There must be something we can do –”
“I’ll look into it,” Ellet said, rising from her sitting position. “But this type of erasure tends to be irreversible, I’m afraid.”
Korum took a step forward. “I don’t want you to look into this, Ellet,” he said evenly. “I fucking want you to drop whatever else you’re doing and bring her memory back.”
Ellet frowned. “You know I’ll do my best –”
“Do better than that.” Korum knew he wasn’t being rational, but he didn’t care. He had never felt this way before – so savagely murderous. He wanted to tear Saret apart, to rip him up piece by piece and hear him scream in agony. He wanted to eviscerate the man he’d once regarded as a friend and bathe in his blood, like the ancients used to do with their enemies.
Underneath the swirling rage and bitterness at the betrayal, guilt – heavy and terrible – sat uncomfortably on Korum’s shoulders. Mia had been hurt – hurt because of him. Because he’d failed to protect her from the monster in their midst. Because he’d been far too trusting. If it hadn’t been for him, she would’ve never had that internship, would’ve never been exposed to Saret’s sick cravings.
If he hadn’t brought her to Lenkarda, she would’ve never been in harm’s way.
How could Korum not have seen it earlier? How could he not have sensed that kind of hatred? His greatest enemy had turned out to be one of his closest friends – and he hadn’t known until it was too late.
And now he could see pity on Ellet’s face. She knew how he felt about Mia and could probably guess at his mental state right now. “I will, Korum,” she said soothingly. “I promise you, I’ll do everything possible to help.”
Korum took a deep, calming breath. It wasn’t Ellet’s fault his friend had turned out to be the worst psychopath in modern Krinar history. “Thanks,” he said quietly.
Ellet smiled, looking relieved. “You can take her home now, if you’d like. She’ll wake up naturally in a few hours, and it might as well be at your house. The fewer of us she has to deal with at first, the better.”
Korum nodded. “Of course.” Bending down over Mia’s float, he carefully picked her up, cradling her gently against his chest. She was so light, so fragile in his arms. The realization that she could’ve been killed today was like poison in his veins, burning him from the inside.
Saret would pay for what he did to her – for what he planned to do to them all. Korum would make sure of that.
* * *
Mia let out a small huffing sound and wrinkled her nose, one slim hand coming up to brush a dark curl off her cheek. Her eyes were still closed for now, although it was obvious she was starting to regain consciousness.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Korum watched her slowly wake up, unable to tear his eyes away. Logically, he knew she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but it didn’t matter. To him, she was perfect. He loved everything about her; each and every part of her delicate little body turned him on. Even now, as she lay there in her pale pink dress, he had to fight the urge to touch her, to bring her closer to him and bury himself deep inside her.