Page 34

Chief Aiken Oakley

Valor

Valor crouched atop the tall pine tree in the pitch-black with his forest green hood resting low on the bridge of his nose, casting a shadow over his eyes. His harness was tight enough around his chest that it almost constricted his breath.

He exhaled, feeling the surge of adrenaline already flowing through his veins.

It was time.

He shifted, adjusting the grip on his grappling hook, waiting, listening.

The blackout had triggered chaos several floors below. He could hear the security team cursing and scrambling. He had mere seconds before the guards adapted and were on the move.

Sixty-five ticks of the clock passed and the sound he’d been waiting for thundered through the night sky.

It was a helicopter, a big one.

The elevator dinged on his level, and his muscles tensed.

“Come on, you bastards,” he muttered.

The code to his door was quickly typed in before it flew open, and five guards rushed in—the others had probably split and gone in Zorion’s direction—weapons raised. Two had KIP launchers, one a taser, the other a baton.

“Where is he? Be careful. He can jump out at any second! Scan the entire area, heads on a swivel!” the leader yelled.

Valor smirked, watching them.

With a powerful burst of energy, he dropped on top of one and knocked his weapon from his hand.

He crouched low as rubber bullets erupted while flipping the portable fire pit into the path of the one coming at him with the baton.

That was two down.

The latter tried to keep track of what was happening, but Valor moved too fast.

Valor stalked around them, but he didn’t have time to knock them on their asses before the helicopter rounded the side of the building.

He sprinted toward the terrace and vaulted onto the railing, boots skidding as he balanced with the precision of a feline.

Below him, the city stretched in every direction, freedom within his grasp.

The chopper banked hard, its rotor blades deafening enough to drown out the guard’s attack. The wind whipped around him, tugging at his cloak, threatening to toss him over.

He clenched the hell out of the grappling hook and began to spin it at his side like a lasso.

The guard had his taser leveled on him and Valor didn’t hesitate as he yanked two blades from the harness strapped to his thigh and flung them toward him. He threw with such force that they disappeared into the guard’s chest. He staggered back and went down on one knee with a pained holler.

The last one took aim with his taser at the same time Valor hurled the metal hook toward his ride. He inwardly celebrated when it caught the landing step of the helicopter, but it was short-lived as Valor was launched off the ledge and gravity seized him.

The wind screamed in his ears as he plummeted several floors, the city lights rushing toward him before the line went taut and his shoulder was wrenched with such brutal force it almost took it from its socket.

“Hang on, Valor!” Jo screamed from the open door.

No fuckin’ shit.

The helicopter’s nose dipped as if the pilot struggling to regain control.

Other faces peered down at him from the aircraft, but he stayed focused.

Valor glanced below and saw two of the guards helping their wounded while the other fired a barrage of rounds toward him, but they went wide, lost in the madness of rotor wash and darkness.

As the helicopter swung around the building, Valor turned his head toward Zorion’s terrace.

Gunfire sparked, hitting tree bark and shattering glass. They were using lethal ammunition. Zorion was moving through the trees, a shadow slipping through the branches with stealth and swiftness. The guards tried to track him, but they looked confused and pissed.

“Try not to shoot to kill!” Valor heard. “We need him alive.”

“That’s if we can fuckin’ catch him!”

Valor would’ve laughed if he wasn’t suspended in midair, only his arm keeping him from plummeting to his death.

Valor caught sight of the same massive hawk that had warned them circling the terrace. He was black as night, his wings spread almost five feet, talons curved frighteningly as if about to catch his prey.

Zorion emerged from the trees as he made eye contact with him.

Come on, baby. I’ve got you.

“To the right, catch him before he jumps!”

A guard holding a taser kicked into another gear, as if running with all his might.

Zorion raced to the edge. He was just a few feet away when the guard lunged and got a grip on his shoulder.

No!

With unfathomable speed, the hawk dove with a piercing screech. It struck and sunk its razor-sharp claws into the man’s face, tearing at his eyes in a burst of feathers and fury.

The second Zorion was free, he leaped off the railing, launching himself into darkness. He spread his arms wide and the wingsuit flared open.

Like a hot blade cutting through butter, Zorion soared downward as bullets chased him. He twisted mid-glide, banking sharply as if he’d been using that suit for years.

Valor clenched his jaw. His timing had to be perfect.

The helicopter drew level with Zorion’s descent, and Valor angled himself against the rope’s tension. The wind tugged him and his shoulder screamed, but he wouldn’t let go. He’d never let Zorion down.

Zorion shot closer, and Valor extended his other arm.

Their fingers caught and locked, and the extra weight sent a jolt of excruciating pain up Valor’s arm and through his chest, but he held on tight.

“I got you!”

Zorion’s expression was calm, his eyes full of trust. “I know.”

The rappelling system activated and pulled them both upward. Valor tightened his grip even more because if Zorion fell, he’d let go too.

The moment they were inside, the helicopter banked hard, gaining altitude as the facility blurred below them.

Zorion crashed into his chest, their bodies pressed hard together, hearts pounding in unison. Zorion’s breath was hot against his neck, his arms tight around his waist, as if afraid to let go and find out their escape was all a dream.

Valor cupped Zorion’s chin and tilted his head up. Those soft green eyes were full of emotion, and without a word, he closed the distance and their lips met with a fierce, desperate electricity.

Valor savored the deliciousness of freedom on Zorion’s tongue, and he didn’t stop until he heard someone clear their throat.