Neither of them could mist, the facility heavily warded and underground.
And their seraphic gifts weren’t of a warrior nature.
Caro had years of sparring training under her belt, her desire to learn defensive maneuvers a practical course that aided her now. Her maker had focused on intellectual lessons, not combative experiences.
Bet she wished right now that she’d at least taken a defense class.
Her blue eyes began to roll, her pale face turning a purple shade. But Caro didn’t let go. She kept counting.
She was over two hundred now.
Nearing three.
That meant Adeline would be here any minute, perhaps any second.
Seraphim were always punctual.
When she reached three hundred nineteen, she released her mother and jumped to her feet, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. But all that existed in this room was monitoring equipment tied to her pod. Not even a scalpel.
She’d have to use her hands, then.
She knelt once more, took her mother’s head into her hands, and twisted at an angle meant to snap her neck.
The crack reverberated through the too-quiet room.
Then everything went silent once more.
Caro leapt back up to her feet and went straight for the door, refusing to waste time. It was unlocked, making it easy for the Seraphim to walk in and check on the pod victim inside.
They built this facility with the mindset that the pods would hold the prisoners steady. Therefore, additional measures weren’t required.
Which was why she found the hallway vacant and the stairwell at the end unlocked and unguarded.
She tested her weight and found her footing light as she scaled the stairs upward, her body rejuvenated, thanks to her freshly awakened gift. But the sun gave her pause as she reached the ground level, her eyes unaccustomed to the brilliance.
Her gift triggered, mending whatever she required to see, and then she was moving once more.
Did you just kill Chanara, angel? Sethios asked softly.
Yes. She didn’t bother pointing out that her mother would be fine in an hour or so. Sethios would already know that.
Without your knives?
Yes, she repeated.
Hmm.
She frowned at that hum inside her mind. What’s wrong?
I’m just intrigued, he admitted, a warm note in his voice. We’ll play later.
I just broke out of a reformation pod, and you’re talking about playing.
Does that surprise you?
She considered it. No, actually it doesn’t. While her memories still hadn’t fully formed or returned to her, her instincts guided her thought process.
A pair of glass doors was all that separated her from the outside.
