Operation: Marauder

Chapter 11

Cassian cleared his throat, gently catching Zoey's attention. She couldn't take her eyes off the door everyone had left through, surprised by that man's ire. He had come out of nowhere like an out-of-control tornado and swept everyone away. She had never seen someone snap Jack out of his fury like that before.

"Who was that?"

Whoever he was, he had to be a big deal.

"Mave. Our pilot. I'd rather not keep him waiting," Cassian added a little more firmly.

She grimaced. "I don't want to go to the base. They're going to lock me in a room and tell me not to touch anything." Regardless of her feelings, she headed to her room and grabbed her duffle bag from the top shelf in her closet.

No matter how hard she tried to find a way out of it, the base honestly was the safest place for her stay for the time being. It was annoying and frustrating, especially if Rowan and Jack were going to be somewhere.

She hadn't made her mind up about Rowan; she hardly knew him and now she was dragged into this mess because of him. The logical side of her told her to stay away from him. Yet her heart wanted to explore Rowan more, understand him further. He was kind and cared about her enough to stop Jack from yelling in her face, enough to look like she'd shattered him when she said she wasn't sure she wanted that date with him anymore. Which she regretted.

He was also dangerous and clearly held many secrets. It didn't help that he was a soldier. Zoey had promised herself to never date a soldier.

Damn it, Rowan.

"Are you ready?" Cassian asked patiently. He stood by the door to the hallway, brilliant blue hair swept to one side as he regarded her.

She let out a puff of air. She really didn't want to leave. Didn't want to be targeted by vampires. Just wanted to have a drink with a hot guy. Apparently the universe had other plans for her.

Suck it up. Power through it. Move on. That's what her dad would have said.

At least he was good for something.

She straightened her back, lugged her bag over her shoulder, and nodded to him. "Let's go."

She followed him out of the house, turning to lock the door out of habit, then scowled when she saw it was nearly cleaved in two. "My house. . ."

"We'll send someone to fix it," he assured her, not at all concerned that someone might take the cracked open door as an invitation to steal her stuff. "Come on."

Not having much choice in the matter, she faced him--and saw the thin strip of fabric he held out to her. She set a hard glower on him. "A blindfold? Really? I know where the base is."

He returned her look with an emotionless stare. "The vehicle we used to race halfway across the planet to help you is classified."

She raised her eyebrows at that. First of all, he didn't have to divulge that much information, which made her think he thought this whole thing was as stupid as she thought it was. Secondly--they had a craft that could fly halfway across the world in less than two hours. That was the kind of ride she wanted to pilot.

She opened her mouth to ask him what it was, but he held up a hand. "Classified, remember? Take this."

He basically shoved it into her hands, so she had no choice but to take it. She frowned at the texture. It wasn't like any cloth she had felt before. It was soft yet scaly. She had the odd thought that she wouldn't be able to cut through this with an ordinary knife. "What material is this?"

"Classified."

Okay, she knew what he was trying to do--give her hints into their secret world--and she appreciated it, but if he used that word one more time. . .