Bryce grimaced. “How many of these suits do the humans have?”
“A few hundred,” Cormac answered. “The Asteri have bombed enough of our factories that these suits are all old, though. The imperial prototype that they’re carrying could give us new technology, if we can study it.”
Bryce murmured, “And no one is worried about giving this stuff over to trigger-happy Pippa?”
“No,” Cormac replied gravely. “Not one of them.”
“But they’re cool with us examining the suit?” Bryce asked.
“I told them Athalar would have some insight into how they’re constructed.”
Hunt clicked his tongue. “No pressure, huh?” He suppressed the memory of Sandriel’s face, her cruel amusement as she watched what he’d done to the suits on her orders.
The suits and their pilots reached the concrete quay, and someone barked an order that dispersed the various rebels working the docks until only a unit of twelve rebels—all humans—lingered behind Hunt and the others.
Hunt liked that about as much as the fact that they were here at all, on a fucking rebel base. Officially aiding Ophion. He kept his breathing slow and steady.
The unit of rebels marched past them, climbing into the vessel, and the mech-pilots stomped off, leaving the sarcophagus behind. A heartbeat later, a human female, brown-haired and freckled, emerged from the shadows beside the boat.
From the way Cormac tensed, Hunt knew who it was. He noted that she wore the uniform of the Lightfall squadron. All the rebels who’d gone by had borne armbands with the sinking sun emblem.
Hunt put his hand in easy reach of the gun at his thigh, lightning writhing in his veins. Bryce angled her body, already eyeing up the best shot. Tharion drifted a few feet to the left, positioning Pippa between himself and the water. As if he’d tackle her into it.
But Pippa moved casually to the other side of the sarcophagus as she said to Cormac, “The code to that box is seven-three-four-two-five.”
Her voice was smooth and fancy—like she was some rich Pangeran kid playing at being a rebel. She said to Hunt, “We’re waiting with bated breath for your analysis, Umbra Mortis.” It was practically an order.
Hunt stared at her from under lowered brows. He knew he was recognizable. But the way she said his name definitely carried a threat. Pippa shifted her attention to Cormac. “I wondered when you’d try to turn them against me.”
Hunt and Bryce drew close, guns at their fingertips now. Ruhn kept a step back, guarding their rear. And Tharion …
The mer had silently shifted positions again, putting himself within a few easy bounds of tackling Pippa.
“I haven’t said anything to them about you yet,” Cormac said with impressive iciness.
“Oh? Then why were you in such a rush to get here? I can only assume it was for one of two reasons: to convince them to put you in charge of the Valbaran front, presumably by slandering me, or to try to capture me so I can tell you everything I know about Emile Renast.”
“Who says both can’t be true?” Cormac countered.
Pippa grunted. “You needn’t have bothered with capturing me. I would have worked with you to find him. But you wanted the glory for yourself.”
“We’re talking about a child’s life,” Cormac snarled. “You only want him as a weapon.”
“And you don’t?” Pippa sneered at them all. “It must make it easier for you if you pretend you’re better than I am.”
Tharion said, deadly soft, “We’re not the ones torturing people to death for intel on the kid.”
She frowned. “Is that what you think I’ve been up to? Those gruesome murders?”
“We found human scents and a piece of one of your soldiers on the kid’s trail,” Tharion growled, a hand drifting to his knives.
Her lips curved into a cold smile. “You arrogant, narrow-minded Vanir. Always thinking the worst of us humans.” She shook her head in mock sympathy. “You’re too coiled up in your own snake’s nest to see the truth. Or to see who among you has a forked tongue.”
True to form, Bryce stuck out her tongue at the soldier. Pippa only sneered.
“Enough, Pippa.” Cormac punched the code into the small box at the foot of the sarcophagus. Bryce’s eyes had narrowed, though. She held Pippa’s gaze—and a chill went down Hunt’s spine at the pure dominance in Bryce’s face.
Pippa drawled, “It is of no concern now. anyway. The boy has been deemed a waste of resources. Especially now that we have … better weapons to wield.”