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Five security guards surround us, dressed in tactical gear. They escort us down the hall and a short run of steps into the guts of the Abr complex.

They sit us in hard plastic chairs. Further back in the room is a workbench with a cameradrone lying in the center of the bowled steel.

“Wild race, guys. Wish I could’ve watched more of it.” A familiar striped male works on the computers that line the far wall. He’s the one who helped Zariah back onto her feet after I’d tackled Crolis on race day. “You two okay?”

I’m not sure what Hakip is doing in the basement, not participating in the races.

“Drone give you trouble?” Kip pulls up a camera feed on one of the twenty screens before him.

“A bit,” Zariah replies.

He shakes his head as he reads through a screen of code. “Rosy said she was going to be down here in a few. She wants a report. I’m trying to help sort out what’s going on with them.”

“Stop talking,” one of the guards demands. He’s a gruff-looking man, large in stature, with a permanent wrinkle between his brows like he’s always pissed or in pain. Tattoos peek out from his sleeves. Something irks me about him, a scent of dust I can’t quite match.

His heart rate increases and his muscles tense.

Kip lowers his voice. “It’s not AI. I’m not seeing a virus. I think someone hacked the cameradrone network and tapped into the speaker. So for the moment, I’m disconnecting them from the net one at a time so each can only be used locally.”

When I don’t say anything, he looks back at us. His eyes dart to Zariah’s bloody cheek, and squint. There’s genuine surprise in his voice. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Shut up!” The guard stalks out into the hallway and scans the area. “Where is Rosy?”

Kip slinks back, looking concerned. He taps something on the keyboard without looking.

“On the phone with Terran security,” someone replies.

The guard looks back at us. “Time to move.”

“To where?” I demand.

“Get up.” Another guard grabs Zariah by the arm.

Rage boils in me. My core heats. I don’t like this at all. “Don’t touch her!”

The guard behind Zariah twists the barrel of a gun illuminating a weapon akin to my Harrow Spindle and fires at me.

Zariah screams. But the bullet doesn’t tear through my thigh. Bone-chilling cold crawls through me, making me feel heavy and drunk. I take a knee.

“Elix!” Zariah barely gets a hand around mine before guards step in and pick me up.

Come on serum. What are you doing? Get me up. Get us out of this. But my gland feels dry, and my throat is suddenly scratchy.

The walls warp and bend as they haul me down the hall behind her. She fights and screams for help.

Aurelius, where are you?

“MONA?”

I get a glimpse of my wristband. Data loads in my eyes, but I struggle to read it as ripples blot out my vision. I hope MONA has my medical readouts and is contacting Abr over the matter. Or Kip. Someone.

The guards drag us into a maintenance room, around stacks of pipes and heaters, venting systems, and storage lockers.

We approach a strangely bright door, and dread grips me.

“Don’t—” Go through that. “Za—”

My feet go limp. My knees give out. Light swallows us.

Zariah’s angry voice echoes in my mind. I’m failing my mate. I’m not protecting her like I’m supposed to.

I don’t deserve her.

She coughs and groans.

Come on, serum. I really need you right now.

We enter a stone tunnel, and the light vanishes in a blink. The men have taken us through a portal to another world. They are not Aurelius’s people. These men are from an underground organization, dressed in black Terran armor. They’re human.

I’m terrified of what they want with my mate. But as I drool on the floor, helpless to save her, I connect pieces. Lingon, Crolis, the ghost fleet, portals, angry racers, Ominous Artifacts. We’re here because someone wants her father’s treasure.