Plucking the items from the air, her bracelet making a gentle sound as the charms swung against one another, Sahara put them back on the desk. “Does it matter if you know the details?”
When he just looked at her, she laughed. “Right, of course it matters. You like to know everything.”
“I like to know the variables in play—and all possible threats.” He’d never disregarded Aden as others had; instead of basing his calculations about Aden’s level of power only on the Arrow’s official strength, Kaleb had considered the deep loyalty Aden seemed to engender in his men and women. The events today made it clear even that might have been an underestimation. “Aden could be a significant problem.”
“He’s focused on his own people,” Sahara reminded him, tugging him into the kitchen. “I have a feeling even if you handed him control of the PsyNet on a silver platter, he wouldn’t take it.”
“The irony is that if I had to hand off power for whatever reason, he’s the only one of the Ruling Coalition I’d trust to take the Net in the right direction.” Like the empaths, Aden had a core of honor that Kaleb had never developed.
Making a nutrient drink, Sahara passed it to him. “I would’ve thought you’d say Ivy.”
“Ivy Jane is an empath,” he said after drinking down half a glass. “She skews too much toward emotion.” Whereas Aden understood that the Net couldn’t totally discard the emotional discipline that had held it together for more than a hundred years.
Sahara nodded slowly. “Anthony?”
“He’s connected to Nikita.” While Kaleb could work with Nikita, he’d never trust her. “I can’t predict how that connection will alter his viewpoints.”
“I don’t know.” Sahara leaned with her elbows on the counter. “I have a feeling if change is to happen, it’ll occur in the other direction—Anthony Kyriakus does not budge from where he stands.”
“Neither,” Kaleb pointed out, “does Nikita Duncan.”
“Immovable force meets irresistible object?” Her eyes sparkled. “I wish I could be a fly on that wall.”
“Perhaps I’ll ’port us there in the depths of the night.” Finishing off the drink as Sahara laughed, he put down the glass and decided that he didn’t need to eliminate Aden from the equation. Sahara was right—the Arrow didn’t want to rule the world. He wanted only to make it safer for those under his command.
That was a goal Kaleb could understand and appreciate. Walking around the counter, he drew Sahara into his arms and took her laughing mouth with his own in a kiss that held his devotion. The drive to protect that which mattered was the core of everything—without it, he would be a nightmare and the Arrows pure darkness.
Chapter 73
THE CONSCIOUSLY DRAMATIC and bloody massacre had been meant to be a public declaration of the squad’s weakness, one that would spread fear throughout the world, for if the bogeymen of the Net weren’t safe, who was? But it had ended up a confirmation of Aden’s—thus the squad’s—power.
The catastrophic failure eliminated the group’s success with the Nikita Duncan strike. The world had already forgotten that in the face of Aden Kai’s impossible display. The only way to salvage anything from the situation was to kill him once and for all. No theatrics, no public spectacle, just a simple hit that proved the squad’s mortality.
If he’d been a valuable target before, he was even more so now: take down a man of such immense power and the shock wave would shatter the foundations of the world. And in the meantime, they’d go after his people. Not as much impact to kill an unknown Arrow, but kill two or three, and suddenly, the world would take notice.
Chapter 74
THE CRASH HAPPENED exactly five hours after Aden had used the mirror. Because of Vasic’s groundwork, it went like clockwork. For Aden and Zaira the crash coincided with the time of their normal sleep shift, so they just locked the cabin door and, stripping off, fell into bed, their minds and abilities shutting down.
Nerida and Yuri, who Aden trusted deeply and who he’d intended to tell about the mirror in any case, knew what was up and to cover for the six who were down. As it was, all was calm until seven hours later, by which time he and Zaira had come naturally awake.
“Six-and-a-half-hour recovery period,” Zaira said on waking, her eyes still drowsy. “Makes you a lethal threat, Aden Kai.”
Stretching out his arm, he placed his palm on her abdomen as she stretched. “Your telepathy?”
A disappointed look. “Back to normal. So if you ever turbocharged an army, you’d have supersoldiers for five hours. Hmm . . . that’s still not bad. Especially if you only turboed half, leaving the other half to cover for the six and a half hours until you woke back up and could restart the cycle.”
Aden raised an eyebrow as he stroked his hand up to her rib cage. “Who are we invading?”
“I like to plan ahead.” Zaira was raising her hand to his cheek when her phone went off. Answering it, she jerked up into a sitting position. “Persephone is alive,” she said after a short, intense conversation. “Miane says another e-mail just downloaded into Olivia’s account.”
A psychic knock came on Aden’s mind right then, the squad’s tech surveillance team having seen the same message.
Having sat up, he curled his arm around Zaira as she brought up that message. It was another image of the forlorn and scared little girl; once again she held a printout of the latest Beacon update to verify time and date—and once again, her face was obscured enough to make it impossible to ’port directly to her.