Page 42 of Meteor Storm

There were only a few beats of silence before someone replied. “This is the Qohaan. We have your khof kaar’s location and will extract you following the completion of our task.”

“What is your assignment?”

Another beat of silence followed by, “Execution of Pek-Tol and all benefactors.”

A thrill of excitement surged through me. The mere thought of tearing that damned place apart sent waves of heat pulsing through my armor, as though my khof kaar shared my anticipation.

“Permission to assist,” I said.

Just as I gave the request, three shikari bastards turned the corner into my view. Two guards and Pek-Tol, his arms filled with treasures he did not want to leave behind in his evacuation. He set his big eyes on me and paused, pure terror bending his features into something I admittedly relished. His fear. His dread. His regret.

“Permission granted,” the voice on the other end of my comms said.

I let my helmet recede, revealing my full face to him.

“Tuross,” he said shakily as his guards raised their weapons.

“You’ve never had permission to use that name,” I said as I took a step toward him.

The guards fired, but the shots bounced off me, what little damage they inflicted on my suit repairing instantly.

“I can pay you. Monrians love money. I have a lot of it.”

“Money earned because of me.”

“Take it. All you want.”

“You don’t hold a contract.”

I kept walking forward, and the guards retreated step by hesitant step, exchanging nervous glances as if neither knew what to do next.

One of them finally charged. I caught him by his thin neck and squeezed until it snapped.

The other fled immediately, shoving past Pek-Tol in his desperation to escape.

I let the body fall and continued forward, barely restrained fury burning in my chest. Fury at the damage he'd caused. To me. To Penny. To everyone.

His lack of honor disgusted me. His betrayal. His greed. Everything he was.

“I—I can make a contract. I can hire you,” he reasoned, dropping his riches and stumbling backward.

“Where is Penny?” I snarled.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“The human? She’s… she’s…”

I held out my hand to the side, opening my fingers wide. Little veins of light and fragments trickled down my arm into my palm, forming a straight blade from the living fibers of my armor. Pek-Tol eyed it warily.

“She’s in observation!”

“Why?”

“She’s sick. I’m… I’m helping her. I—I can help you, too. I can bring—”

My body reacted faster than I could think and my suit, understanding my intent, didn’t make it any easier to resist the impulse. I swept my hand horizontally and before I knew it, Pek-Tol’s head was rolling across the ground, finally silenced. His body slumped to the ground, twitching, like all shikari bodies did after death. I took a moment to revel in the sight of his corpse before I looked down the hall and started to move.