Operation: Marauder

Chapter 24

A man entered the interrogation room. Clearly he hadn't been expecting anyone to be in here because a sick smile spread across his face when his black eyes landed on Zoey.

Her heart pumped into overdrive once she recognized those black eyes and pale skin. It was the red fangs that scared her, though; he had recently fed. She prayed it hadn't been her father.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all chained up in here?" he wondered as he slipped into the room. His eyes flitted down to the handcuffs, something twisted and satisfied glinting in the black orbs.

He approached her. She couldn't pull away from him when his talons grazed over the nape of her neck, brushing her hair off her shoulder.

He paused, inhaling deeply, then frowned at her. "You smell like an Arthonian female."

Curious, he leaned in closer; a shudder ran through Zoey and she had to fight every instinct she had to not cuss him out, afraid of what he would do if she tried to fight. There was no iron around for her to fend him off with. She had the plasma sword Rowan had given her, since the men who had brought her in didn't deem it fit to search her, but she couldn't do anything with it when her hands were chained to the table.

"Interesting. You've been marked as one of their mates."

Zoey wasn't sure what he meant by being marked by Rowan, but the very word sent a shudder through her and she somehow knew he had. As to why or what it meant, though, she was lost. Nevertheless, it probably wasn't good that the Wraythe knew.

To her relief, he pulled away from her. "Jabraylen will want to meet with you. You will be handy if the Arthonians prove to be more difficult."

"Of course they're going to be difficult," she snapped. "You want to kill them for their blood!"

"You clearly don't know how good they taste or understand the feeling of their blood running through you. You feel invincible, human. We nearly are with their blood. Let's go."

He yanked on the handcuffs, snapping them as easily as if they were made of paper and dragged her out of the room.

Zoey knew better than to try to use brute force to escape his grasp, so she reached for the hilt of the plasma sword at her back and pressed the button twice. The blazing hot blade came to life and cut his arm clean off. While he wailed, she swung the sword in a downward arch, cutting through him, shoulder to hip with surprising ease. She gagged at the stench of cooked Wraythe and staggered away before she threw up in the open hallway.

In her rush to get away from the diced body, she nearly tripped on the foot of another body. She choked on a scream at the three dead humans lining the corridor, their throats torn open in a gory display of the Wraythe's savagery.

Her heart stopped when she recognized one further down. "Dad!"

Never mind the blaring alarm warning her they were under attack, or the fact she was very alone if a Wraythe found her, she bolted to the end of the corridor. She dropped to her knees and inspected the wound across his chest; it looked like the Wraythe had got him with his needle-point claws. Almost afraid of the answer, she checked for a pulse.

Slow but steady.

She sat back on her heels in relief, memories she had locked away flooding her mind. All of the good times they had shared hit her hard and it took everything she had to not burst out crying. Her heart felt as though it was being torn in two.

She missed those times. She couldn't sit on his shoulders anymore, but she missed their hiking trips and going to museums. He used to spoil her and make her feel like the most important person in the world.