“He’s still out.”
Gabe’s yacht waited at anchor a hundred feet away; sleek, white, and twice the length of the fishing trawler, but multiple decks made it look much larger. A sharp prow designed to cut through the water, tinted windows, and something that could be a helicopter pad at the back.
“Get me over there, Ryan.”
“We all go together. Gabe’s orders.”
Shit. More waiting.“What about the trawler?”
“Abandoning it, and the suits too.”
Cally wouldn’t be sorry to see them go, but it made sense. Another interminable delay as they pulled Brent’s suit from the water, and swung it onto the deck. She leaned on the rail and glared at the yacht. After a while, Zoey appeared at her side.
“Thank you for getting him back.”
Cally blinked in surprise. “Thank you?”
Zoey looked uncomfortable, and didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m bonded to him too, you know.”
“Yeah, but…” Zoey always seemed aloof, especially in comparison to Noah, and she didn’t have to show her gratitude. Maybe Noah was right; maybe Antoine’s thralls did all love him. Cally swallowed her skepticism, and settled for a simple, “You’re welcome.”
Ryan walked up. “You ready?”
Cally turned to see Brent out of his suit, and the dinghy held to the side of the trawler. One of Gabe’s thralls had the wheel, while Amir oversaw the lowering of Noah’s unconscious form as the two boats jostled in the waves.
“More than ready. Let’s go.” Cally headed for the dinghy, climbing down the ladder as the trawler pitched. But holding on to the rungs was easier than she expected, courtesy of her increased strength. Ryan returned to the cabin, only to emerge amoment later with a gas can, and began dousing the interiors of both exosuits. She called up to Zoey. “What’s he doing?”
“What’s it look like? You want them to find your DNA in there?”
A million bucks of hardware.But then, that’s what insurance was for.
Cally let it drop and resumed climbing, stepping into the crowded dinghy. Zoey followed, and a moment later Ryan appeared, sliding down the ladder like he’d done it a hundred times.
“Get going, Lewis,” he said to the thrall at the wheel, then pulled out a flare and struck it alight.
The dinghy’s engine roared as they pulled away from the trawler, and Ryan threw the flare. It arced out over the water and landed on the deck. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the flames caught, running pitifully across the wet wood.
“Should’ve used more gas,” Amir said.
“There wasn’t any,” Ryan replied.
But the fire had reached the exosuits, and it soon became apparent where Ryan had been generous. They both went up with a whoosh that Cally could hear over the waves, the flames rising high and sending thick black smoke into the morning sky.
“That’s going to help the Coast Guard with their enquiries,” she muttered.
“We’ll be gone before they get here.”
“And Gabe’s yacht?” Cally turned to regard the looming white ship, barely moving in the waves as it rested at anchor. “It doesn’t exactly blend in and look innocent.”
“It also doesn’t scream illegal immigrants, and that’s all the Coast Guard seem to care about.” Ryan shrugged. “Gabe has political pull. Even if they want to stop him, they won’t.”
They were already halfway between the two boats, and conversation died away as they drew closer. Maybe the others were in awe of its sleek lines, but Cally could only think of Antoine, somewhere aboard.
They’d got him back. Somehow, they’d done it—despite him being dropped to the depths of the ocean, Alvin’s disappearance,and the abrupt change in their plans. They’d done what they set out to do, and Antoine had returned to her.
But Cally bit at her lip, anxiety tight in her chest. He was still feral, mindless and borderline insane. How did anyone come back from that?
She’d been too scared to ask. Now she had to face the reality.
