Page 12 of Revenge (Warriors of the Drexian Academy #6)

Chapter

Twelve

Deklyn

S asha turned to glare at me, her dark eyes flashing with irritation in the dim light seeping from the wall sconces. “Why are you following me?”

“That didn’t sound like a thank you, sweetheart,” I said, keeping my voice low although we were probably the only people in the administrative wing of the academy.

She blew out an exasperated breath that made a strand of hair flutter across her face before whirling back around and striding into the office.

I followed, closing the door behind us and wondering why the hell she could be annoyed with me.

I’d just saved her from standing in a hallway looking like an idiot, trying to break into one of the most secure offices in the academy.

The admiral’s long, narrow office was impressive even in the darkness.

Tall windows had been cut into the far wall, letting in enough moonlight to cast everything in silver and shadow.

Sasha hurried down the length of the room toward the enormous desk that dominated the space in front of those windows.

“Why are you risking getting caught again?” I asked, trailing after her. “After what happened earlier today, I would have thought you’d learned your lesson.”

She slipped behind the desk, using the pale moonbeams to see as she began rifling through the papers scattered across its surface. “Why did you let me in if you’re so against it?”

The question stopped me cold because I didn’t have a suitable answer.

Why had I helped her? Part of me wanted to believe it was because I hoped she’d search through everything, find nothing incriminating, and finally give up this dangerous quest for revenge.

But that wasn’t the whole truth, and we both knew it.

The real reason was that I couldn’t bear the thought of her doing this alone, of facing whatever consequences might come without someone to watch her back. Even if that someone was rapidly becoming as reckless as she was.

Sasha looked up from the papers, her face silhouetted in the moonlight. She was dangerously, distractingly beautiful, and I had to force myself not to think about how much I wanted to reach out and touch her face.

“How did you get us inside when I couldn’t?” she asked, returning her attention to the documents.

“Top clearance authorization,” I said simply. “Comes with being Inferno Force.”

I didn’t add that no cadet or instructor would dare enter the Academy Master’s domain without permission.

She scowled at this information, as if my security access was personally offensive to her, and kept searching through the admiral’s files. After several minutes of methodical examination, she found a tablet tucked beneath a stack of schematics.

She pressed the activation panel, but nothing happened. “Crap. It’s asking for a password.”

“Be glad it isn’t biometrically locked, although the admiral probably doesn’t worry about his office being invaded,” I said dryly. “Most Drexians don’t have criminal impulses.”

Sasha drummed her fingers on the tablet. “Password, password. What would he use as a password? What’s his birthday?”

I slid her a withering look. “I do not know the admiral’s date of birth.”

Sasha ignored my commentary, her attention completely focused on the tablet. “His wife’s name is Noora, right? Maybe it’s her name.”

That seemed overly sentimental to me, but mated Drexians behaved oddly. Another reason I’d never aspired to be one.

She tapped the screen and then cursed again. “Nope.” She scrunched her lips to one side. “Maybe it’s her name as numbers, with each letter than a corresponding number in the alphabet.”

When that didn’t work, she stamped her foot.

I leaned over. “We do not have the same alphabet as humans. Try it in our native tongue.” When she stared at me blankly, I did the honors of typing in the numbers that corresponded with the name Noora. The tablet instantly unlocked itself.

Sasha gave me an admiring grin. “Not bad, Inferno Force.”

My cheeks unwillingly warmed from her praise, and I looked away. When I dared look back, the blue glow from the screen cast shifting patterns across her face as she flicked one finger across the surface.

I moved around the desk to stand beside her, close enough to see the screen over her shoulder, close enough to catch that flowery scent that clung to her hair. My body was hyperaware of her proximity, of the way she moved, of the soft sound of her breathing as she concentrated.

Then I saw something that made my blood turn to ice.

“Stop,” I said sharply.

She sighed but paused her scrolling, looking up at me with barely concealed impatience. “What?”

I squinted at the communication displayed on the screen, reading the sender and recipient information that had caught my eye. Admiral Zoran and someone identified only as “Shadow Command,” discussing operational parameters for an agent designated as “T.”

The message thread was brief but damning:

S Command: T’s infiltration of the Kronock facility successful. Intelligence gathered exceeds expectations. T’s cover as academy adjunct remains intact?

Zoran: Affirmative. His performance during the rescue operation was exemplary. No one suspects his true role.

S Command: Excellent. The S investment in long-term cover identities continues to prove its value.

I stopped breathing for a moment, my mind struggling to process what I was reading. T had to be my brother, didn’t it?

My spine tingled as I eyed the phrase S Command. Was that for Strategy? No, why would the School of Strategy need cover identities? Also, it would have been Assassin Command, the school’s more often used moniker.

I remembered whispers I’d heard throughout my years in Inferno Force. Whispers of a secret branch of the Drexians called the Shadows. Was it possible that my brother was a Shadow and not the academy washout he pretended to be? That would explain so much.

“Can I continue?” Sasha asked, glancing back at me.

I nodded mutely, still trying to wrap my mind around the revelation. Maybe my brother wasn’t just an adjunct. Maybe he was a trained operative in the Drexian intelligence network, the shadowy organization that most people believed was nothing more than rumors and hushed speculation.

It made perfect sense now. It also explained his confidence during the rescue mission, his access to classified information, and the way Zoran interacted with him as an equal despite his supposed position as a simple administrative assistant.

Had Tivek been playing a role this entire time, maintaining a cover identity so deep that even his own brother had believed it?

I’d heard talk about the Shadows throughout my military career, stories of a covert school that trained operatives in espionage and infiltration. But I’d always assumed they were just rumors, the kind of stories that were told to elicit fear in our enemies.

Now I was almost certain the rumors were true. The Shadows must be real, and my brother must be one of them.

I didn’t know whether to burst with pride at his accomplishments or fury that he’d never trusted me enough to tell me the truth.

How long had he been living this double life?

How many times had I condescended to him, treated him like a failure, while he was actually serving Drex in ways I couldn’t even imagine?

A sharp intake of breath from Sasha snapped me back to the present. She was grinning at the tablet screen, her expression triumphant in the pale glow.

“Yes!” she whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction.

I leaned closer to see what had caught her attention, my shoulder brushing against hers as I read the message displayed on the screen.

From: Drexian High Command To: Admiral Zoran Re: Unauthorized Rescue Operations

Admiral, you are hereby ordered to cease all rescue operations related to captured Earth personnel. This directive comes directly from Earth Planetary Defense Command and is not subject to appeal or interpretation. Any violation of this order will result in immediate court-martial proceedings.

Furthermore, you are specifically forbidden from mounting any operation to recover the Earth pilot Sasha Bowman. This individual has been classified as an acceptable loss.

“There it is,” Sasha breathed, her finger tracing the words on the screen. “Proof that someone in Earth’s command structure wanted me left to rot.”

“Does it say who?” I asked.

“Not specifically,” she said, scrolling through the rest of the message. “But it references Earth Planetary Defense Command as the source of the directive.” She looked up at me, her eyes blazing with determination in the moonlight. “That’s what I’m going to find out when I go back to Earth.”

I stared at her. Earth? She was planning to hunt down whoever had betrayed her in the corridors of power back on her home planet? Why had I ever thought that her quest for revenge would be sated without heads rolling?