Hunter (The Hero Rebellion 0.5), Belinda Crawford [e novels to read TXT] 📗

wise, if Instructor Bayard had really meant Subria to follow the sound, or if that was something she'd thought she'd heard. But then why the pistol? Why that whisper that tumbled from her lips as the instructor slid to the ground?

Why?

Her dad's voice played in her memory, his hand on her shoulder. 'Focus on the ruc-pard, little girl, not the end, the means or the warrant in your pocket. Just the 'pard, only the 'pard.'

Focus on the 'pard. On the ache in her jaw, on the purpose in Instructor Bayard's eyes, the determination and that tiny, tiny flicker of fear.

Focus. The whys would take care of themselves when the job was done.

She padded past the door, taking note of the big black letters stenciled on the plasglas, questions bubbling up in her gut at the meaning, but she pushed them back. Later.

Focus.

The hallway ended with a body on the floor and another door, wedged open by the body. Slowly, eyes and ears alert to the shadows, Subria knelt, feeling with one hand for a pulse. The dark made it difficult, that and the new itch at her nape, the one that said if she took her eyes off the door, she wasn't getting up again.

Erebos slithered over her shoulder, his weight creeping down her bicep. He paused there, waiting.

'Fly,' she whispered, never taking her eyes from the door.

He launched upwards, double wings beating hard and silent.

She rose, pistol up, as he disappeared into shadows and slipped through the gap between wall and door. More darkness, although this one not leavened by the red of emergency lights.

Enough light slipped through the door for her to make out the darker well not two meters beyond, and the bulky shape of a hand rail.

Stairs.

Down, down, down she went. She didn't hear the screech anymore, but it vibrated in her jaw, filled it with a bone-deep ache that grew with every step.

The stairs ended at another door, open like the last. No bodies here, just a small vestibule and an airlock, standing open, and… databanks.

She came out of the airlock and into a forest of databanks, gelpaks filling the darkness with soft blue light.

Glowing sentinels in the darkness, lining the circular walls, standing silent watch around a column of pale blue, lit from within by shards of lightning. An AI core, circled by the soft glow of an active workstation. And there, a silhouette against the light, was a person.

'Stop him.' Instructor Bayard's voice, the flicker of fear, ran through Subria's mind.

Boots silent on the steelcrete, Subria slinked closer. The pistol came up of its own volition, a holographic crosshair popping to life over the barrel.

Heel to toe. Breathing steady, heart slow. The calm settled over her, syncing breath and movement, slowing her heart and narrowing her focus until all she saw was the target on the man's back.

'You have a remarkable resistance to sonic disruption, Ms Venere. Most lose consciousness, a few hallucinate, but I've never seen someone keep functioning.' The silhouette spoke without turning, his hands on the workstation, shifting through holoscreens. She knew that voice, recognised the timbre of it even without the animation of his cheek-splitting smile. 'Is it training? Your father was a remarkable man, almost a match for your mother, in fact. It would not have surprised me if he followed me down here, dead as he is.'

Shock rippled under her calm, threatened to make its way to her skin, at the mention of her parents, at the familiarity in Temple's tone. He'd known her dad?

The doctor turned, and there was his smile, not splitting his cheeks, but smaller, secretive. 'But I don't think it's training. Kylian Venere had a lifetime of it and, as I recall, some damage to his hearing, which would have made his resistance to my disruptor plausible. My guess is you've somehow adapted to the frequency, a slight adjustment should fix that.' Temple lifted his hands, seeming to notice the pistol for the first time, the ring on his left hand gleamed in the gelpaks' light.

'You're not going to shoot me now, are you, Ms Venere?'

Subria stopped, feet planted, weight spread, and her hands rock steady on the pistol, like her daddy taught.

Temple's brow lifted. 'I see you have your father's way with words, rather than your mother's.' He lifted his arms, a question forming in his posture. 'What would you like me to do? Surrender? For what? Do you even know what I'm doing down here?'

The calm that had settled over her shoulders shivered, doubt worming its way through the memory of her daddy whispering instructions. She'd never held a pistol on a person before. Never. Never. Never. The hint of a tremor moved the barrel.

She licked her lips. 'What are you doing down here, Doctor?'

The smile on his face bloomed. 'Would you believe that I'm maintaining the databanks?'

'No.'

His smile widened. 'That's my girl.'

'I'm not your girl,' she said, even as unease slithered through her blood.

'Aren't you?' He took a step forwards. 'I like your confidence.'

She didn't retreat, not even when the doctor advanced, his hands still held out to his sides, that ring catching the light and flashing in her eyes. For a second, flames replaced the databanks, a giant wall crashing towards her.

Subria shook her head, and sometime in the microscopic blink of her eyelids, Temple moved. One moment he was three meters away, more than enough for her to see him coming, more than enough time to react, and then he was there, breathing in her face.

Adrenlin hit her system, surged through her veins on the surge of her heart.

Time slowed, and that thing in the back of her brain clicked.

Before the thought formed, muscles clenched, tendons flexed, and her fist slammed under Temple's chin.

His head snapped back, even as pain rocketed through her knuckles, rang in her bones, muted and grey, buried under the click.

She ducked, spun, lashed out with her boot.

CRACK.

A strangled yell as Temple's knee shattered.

Rise, half a step back, the pistol coming up in the