Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)

I staggered backward and out of the ship, a scream stuck in my throat, my body half numb from the shock as I tried to fight them off with my spear.

I had no choice but to retreat, as they all launched at me at once. I ran away from them, from the ship, toward the direction of the village—and the opposite direction from the coldblood base. As I raced, my legs pumping faster than I’d ever thought them capable of going, a pain bit into my shoulder. One of the bastards had landed on me, was digging its nails into my back.

I skewered the hideous, pale-skinned creature, stabbing the spear into its flesh and harpooning it into the snow. And then the next that came launching for me, and the next. I found myself descending into a panicked, slashing frenzy, until they all lay bleeding on the ground… and then I noticed three more shifters popping their ugly heads out of the back of the ship.

Oh, for God’s sake.

I had to run. I didn’t have time to withdraw my spear from the last shifter I had harpooned—that would be allowing too short a distance between myself and the shifters now darting toward me.

I pounded ahead, and, thanks to my head start, managed to put a safe distance between myself and the shifters that had followed me; they were considerably smaller than me, after all. But, as far off as they were, I could still see their little bodies running for mine.

So I kept sprinting, slamming my feet into the ground with all the strength I had left. Where I was headed didn’t matter, so long as it was away from the ship and the harrowing cries emitting from it. I sprinted over rock, snow, and ice, not slowing until the ship was a speck on the horizon behind me. Only then did I stop, shooting the tiny thing a forlorn look. It was my last point of reference. Without it, I had next to no idea where I was. But right now, I had no other choice. I’d have to make my way to the nearby village on foot.

At the mere thought of more walking, my legs collapsed under me. The adrenaline was finally leaving me, and as I sat, my butt aching from the cold, hard ground, I gazed drearily into the wilderness ahead. Last time I had wandered off by myself in search of something, it hadn’t gone well. But now I didn’t have any other choice.





Chapter Two





It took nearly all my strength to clamber back onto my feet. I took a deep breath, then set my gaze in the direction of the town, or at least where I thought it was.

As soon as I started walking, my head throbbed with an ache that spread to my whole body. What was a full-body ache called—a way-too-tired-because-I’ve-been-attacked-by-just-about-everything-ache?

“Shut up, Riley,” I muttered to myself.

When I got crazy-tired, I tended to get crazy-hysterical too. I tried to think of what Angie or Lauren would say to soothe me. But, as my legs stumbled ahead, I came up with a big fat nothing. Usually, I was the one comforting them.

No, all I could think about was the same useless, repeating word as before: run, run, run.

I kept my gaze on my feet to ensure that I didn’t fall. Under my boots, the snowy ground swirled. A glance across the landscape revealed that the air all around me was swirling with snow.

I groaned. A snowstorm. Just what I needed right now. Every step I took was beginning to feel heavier than the last, while my eyes seemed to be blinking slower and slower…

I barely registered my body collapsing onto the ground. When I struggled to open my eyes, all I saw was white. They fluttered closed, and a warm, comforting blackness swallowed me.



PINGGGGG.

My eyes snapped open. My hands went to my ears as I wrenched around. Blinding fluorescent light. Flat gray stone walls.

Where was I?

I leapt up, the blood rushing from my head as I raced to the door—which was also made of stone. I yanked uselessly at the handle a few times, trying to get a grip on the momentary dizziness that came from standing up too quickly.

“Back away from the door,” a husky voice boomed from the ceiling.

I looked up, my eyes coming into focus. The entire ceiling seemed to be one big speaker, its black surface dotted with tiny holes. My gaze swept around the room, my heart pounding as I realized that I recognized this place. A Fed interrogation room.

There was a beep, and then the door slammed into me as it opened. I tumbled to the floor, and someone chuckled. With their boot, they pushed me away.

“You were told to back away from the door,” a cold voice said.

I craned my neck to see a gnarly, clawed hand dipping for me. I jerked away instinctively, but it managed to grab me.

“Don’t try to escape. It won’t work,” the masked lycan said.

He lifted me up and placed me on a stone chair as easily as if I were a feather, then lowered himself onto the chair across from me. Folding his hands on the table, he addressed me.

“So, human, tell me the truth. Tell me what you and your coldblood master have done.”

I gaped at him. It was hard to focus when I was face-to-face with the sight of my own distended, terrified face in the steel of his mask.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

His fist slammed on the stone table so hard it sent a crack snaking through the top. “Lies,” he hissed.

The door opened behind him.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The new speaker was a lycan I recognized—he was the same head of interrogation with whom Navan and I had spoken days ago. Right now, however, he was baring his wolfish teeth in rage at the lycan sitting across from me.

“Commander Sylvan, sir, I apologize,” the masked lycan said. “You were in a meeting. I thought I could interrogate her beforehand. See what else we could get out of her.”

Sylvan strode forward, grabbing the stone chair he was sitting in and pulling it to the door. It scraped loudly on the floor as it moved.

“You thought wrong,” Sylvan growled, gesturing out the door.

The masked lycan rose and advanced so that he and Sylvan were nose-to-nose.

“Are you going to believe anything that human slave will say? After what we’ve found?”

Sylvan turned his back on the other lycan.

“What I do is no business of yours. Farl, you have a compromised interest in this case and are therefore not permitted to speak to the human. I am the head interrogator, and you will listen to me, or face the consequences.”

“Commander, with all due respect, I won’t just take this sitting down.”

“You’re right,” Sylvan snarled, storming forward and shoving Farl out the door. “You’ll take this standing up.”

He pressed a button on his suit, and the stone door slid closed. He turned to face me.

“I would apologize, but we haven’t yet established exactly what it is you’re guilty of.”

As he went to sit down, I sputtered, “I don’t know what… I just got—”

He dismissed me with a wave of his hairy hand. “I haven’t asked you a question yet.”

I shut my mouth, directing my glare to the door over his shoulder.

He clasped his fingers together, his long claws coming to rest on the backs of his hands. He directed a piercing look at me.