gone still, all attention focused on her. Including Milo and she avoided his glittering stare. “Destiny, where are you?”
“Is Milo alive?”
Her glance flickered to the bound man. He was leaning forward in the chair listening. “He’s alive.”
“I want proof.”
Kinross strode across and grabbed her wrist, spoke into the comm unit. “Come back right now, and he might just live. Stay away, and he’s dead before the day is out.”
“I want proof.”
He gritted his teeth, then dropped her wrist and waved his hand toward Milo. “Give it to her.”
She crossed the room and held the comm unit in front of his face.
“Destiny?”
“Milo? Are you all right? Have they hurt you? Sorry, stupid question, but I’m going to get you out of there.”
He cleared his throat then spat blood onto Elvira’s boots. “Destiny. This is an order. Do not fucking give yourself up.”
“You don’t give me orders.”
“You can’t trust them. I’m not worth it. Stay the fuck away.”
Kinross made a cutting motion with his hand, and Elvira spoke into the comm unit. “Come home, Destiny. I love you. Just come home.”
Milo made a snorting sound and cast her a burning look of such utter contempt that she took an instinctive step back.
“I want to speak to Mr. Kinross,” Destiny said.
Luther moved closer. “Yes,” he snapped.
“Here’s how it’s going to work, Mr. Kinross.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“There are two ways of seeing: with the body and with the soul. The body’s sight can sometimes forget, but the soul remembers forever.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
“You know he’s going to be super pissed,” Dylan said.
Destiny wrapped her arms around her waist. The night was warm, but she shivered.
“And there’s a good chance he’s not going to cooperate once he realizes you’re staying behind.”
She’d been staring into the shadowy forest, but now she turned to look at him and frowned. He leaned against the trunk of a tallish tree, but the set of his shoulders was tense, and his hands fisted at the side. Not a happy wolf. “It’s your job to get him away from here,” she said.
She’d always known she was going back. At the start, she’d believed that it would be a conscious decision; she would go back because she wanted to. Because it was the right thing to do, the honorable thing to do. For the good of humanity.
They had tortured Milo.
There was no good in that. She hadn’t realized she had the capacity for hate, but she hated this Luther Kinross with every cell in her body. And Silas, who she’d thought was so nice. She was clearly a crap judge of character. And Dr. Yang. That hurt the most. Dr. Yang had said she loved her, but Destiny knew the words were just smoke. Insubstantial. Dr. Yang had never loved her.
All the same, she would go with them, because they hadn’t been able to come up with a way to get Milo back safe and for her to keep her freedom.
She didn’t think they would harm her. After all, she was important. She could hear the sarcasm even in her thoughts.
There was also another thing to consider. She might hate a few people right now, but she couldn’t bear the thought that Rico would set off a nuclear bomb that would destroy the whole planet. There were innocent people here. Thousands of them. Children and babies. And while he might not love her, she thought Milo, and even Dylan, had come to care for her a little. If they left her behind, then they might think twice about blowing her up. There were alternatives. Rico had sent all the information he could find on nuclear bombs and Destiny was sure they could be disarmed permanently. Except, she wouldn’t be there. So she had highlighted the relevant bits for Dylan.
But maybe she was just hunting for silver linings; Milo probably wouldn’t think twice about nuking her.
Who knew? She might survive this and one day…
Best not to think of the future. Just get through the next few hours.
“They’re here,” Dylan said, straightening from where he leaned against the tree and coming to stand at her shoulder. “Are you ready?”
She couldn’t hear anything, but she supposed that he had better hearing than her. She swallowed then nodded and slipped her hand into her jacket pocket, wrapping her fingers around the cool metal of the grenade.
Where were they?
It was another minute before she heard them, the sound of a group crashing through the undergrowth. Then she caught the flicker of light through the trees. Dylan