With the fury building in me, the others would have to get in line if they wanted vengeance of their own. I’d see mine done first. For Harper.
“I want the leadership alive,” Doctor Mervan announced to the warriors, but Styx’s response was immediate.
“Then you’d better get to them first.”
A couple of the Atlans chuckled at Styx’s quiet proclamation, but everyone in the room knew he was completely serious. There would be no mercy from him. From the Styx legion. I moved to stand beside Styx, shoulder to shoulder. There would be no mercy from me either. Not when they’d attacked what was mine.
Beside me, Cormac’s grin nearly split his face. His hunger, his need to protect his people, his leader, his family, was even more primitive and instinctive than most. The rage emanating from him fed my own until it took everything I had to wait. To listen. I had no idea how he managed to control himself.
“Wager?” Khon spoke from Cormac’s right, keeping his voice tipped low.
Silver leaned around me and the huge warrior and shook her head at Khon. “Bet against Styx and you’ll lose.”
Khon smiled, slapped me on the shoulder. “My money’s not on Cormac, it’s on Blade.”
Silver laughed at that. “How can I bet against my own brother?”
I didn’t look at either of them, instead stared out at the group of warriors who would have our backs, then at our leader. “You’ll lose.”
Silver punched me on the other shoulder. “Fifty on Styx.”
“Done.” Khon held out his hand and they shook on it as Mervan and Styx led the way to the transport pads.
I stepped in behind, my heart rate kicking up, my senses sharpening. Time to hunt.
Chapter Twelve
Styx
The moment the twisting pain of transport loosened its grip on me, I spun, blades out. Ready. I had no intention of using ion blasters. I wanted my enemies to look into my eyes when I gutted them.
The cargo ship was large for a vessel of this type. And the traitor told us to expect a crew of close to fifty with twice that many prisoners and several bays full of stolen weapons, medical supplies, and almost a thousand mobile transport tags used by the medical teams to evacuate the wounded.
They were worth more on the black market than everything else combined—including the ship itself.
Apparently, Kronos legion had been busy raiding, stealing, looting. Harper’s team was one of many that had been attacked. The Intelligence Core wanted some of them alive. I grimaced at that, the word some. They didn’t give a fuck about them. They were commodities, and it was a good thing Harper was safe on Rogue 5 or Mervan would be a dead man along with the traitor for his indifference. But in this moment, I needed that indifference to get what I wanted. Mervan was looking for the traitor on their side of this mess, the medical officer feeding Kronos the locations and other information on the MedRec teams when they went out into the field.
I didn’t care about what Mervan wanted. He could find that traitor and lead me directly to Kronos.
That legion needed to go down. I wanted blood.
Mervan split his men into teams with a wave of his hand, and a group of Prillon and Atlan warriors moved quickly in the direction of the prisoner holding cells. Fortunately, we were not only given the location of the ship, but the blueprints for them as well. We’d studied them, knew where to go.
His second team moved to attack the cargo areas and recover the weapons and other goods stored there.
A third team would head for the command deck and take over the ship, capture their leaders.
They moved quickly, silently. Efficiently. But not fast enough.
Blade ran beside me, Cormac, Silver and Khon right behind us as we moved so quickly I knew we were barely more than a blur. Only the Everian Hunters could outrun us, and they’d been sent to the prison block at my insistence. They could get there with their intense speed and save the innocent.
The sounds of battle and ion blasts echoed through the corridors. The ship’s alert system went to flashing red. Beside me, Blade growled. “They know we’re coming.”
They’d known the second our group touched down on the transport pad.
The smile that stretched my face was feral. “Good.”
Behind us, the pounding boots of at least two dozen Coalition warriors thundered down the narrow walkway, but they were nearly a minute behind us.