Page 27

CHAPTER 27

S asha

The magnetic lock taunts me as I work the thin wire between my teeth, trying to get just the right angle. The metallic taste of the pick mixes with the stale, recycled air of the detention block. Another failure. The wire slips uselessly against the mechanism without catching, and I have to bite back a curse of frustration.

Damn Eirik and his overprotective instincts. My fingers tremble with suppressed rage as I retrieve the wire and start again. The cell is state of the art, sleek panels of reinforced plastic and biofeedback safeguards designed to hold even the craftiest criminals.

The soft hum of the magnetic field buzzes against my skin, raising the fine hairs on my arms. Overhead, harsh white lights cast stark shadows across the sterile floor. Everything about this place is meant to intimidate, to remind prisoners of their powerlessness.

But I’m not just any prisoner. I’m the best thief in Tartarus.

The young guard—Jax—shifts uncomfortably at his post by the door. His Enforcer uniform is crisp and new, lacking the wear of seasoned officers. Even his boots still shine like polished mirrors. He keeps stealing glances at me when he thinks I’m not looking, then quickly averts his eyes. The way his hand repeatedly brushes his weapon betrays his nervousness.

He’s barely more than a kid.

I’ve spent my life reading people, learning their tells, their weaknesses. This boy is fresh-faced and eager to prove himself. But he’s also clearly uncomfortable with having a female prisoner. Every time I meet his gaze, he flushes bright red and looks away.

I can work with that.

“You know he’s wrong to lock me up, right?” I lean against the bars, letting my voice soften to a gentle murmur. The cool metal presses against my forehead as I affect a pose of dejected vulnerability. “I’m just so afraid for them. I want to help.”

Jax’s shoulders tense but he maintains his rigid posture, staring straight ahead at the opposite wall. “I have my orders, ma’am.”

Ma’am. How precious. The formal address almost makes me smile, but I keep my expression carefully controlled.

“Of course you do.” I sigh dramatically and slide down to sit on the floor, making sure my movements draw his attention without being too obvious about it. “I just hope they make it through the tunnels okay without me. One wrong turn down there and…” I let the sentence trail off ominously.

His eyes flick toward me for just a moment before snapping back to attention. Good. The slight twitch in his jaw tells me he’s listening despite himself.

“Ambassador Eirik left clear instructions not to let you out,” Jax says, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. “But if you have any information to relay, I’m happy to send word to them.”

This isn’t working. At least he’s talking to me, but I need to find something else to get him to open this magnetic lock. I study him, his straight back, standing to attention even though there’s no one to look. Then an idea pops in my head, along with a considerable amount of guilt. But I’d rather ask for forgiveness than stay locked here while Eirik risks his life going in blind to the Fortress. No one knows this place like I do.

Apart from Maitlin, maybe.

I shift positions, deliberately wincing. “Oh, no…”

“Is… is everything alright, ma’am?” Concern colors his voice despite his attempt at keeping his tone cold and detached.

“It’s fine.” I wrap my arms around my middle, hunching slightly. “It’s just… well, this is embarrassing but… it’s that time of the month, you know? And I really need to use the facilities.”

His face flames red instantly. The color spreads down his neck and disappears beneath his collar. “I-I’m not supposed to let you out. For any reason.”

“Please?” I look up at him through my lashes, letting genuine discomfort show in my expression. “It’s getting really urgent. You can stand right outside the door. I promise I won’t try anything. I mean, look at you, you’re much taller and stronger than I am. What’s a little woman like me going to do?”

He shifts from foot to foot, clearly torn between his orders and his ingrained politeness toward women in distress. The internal struggle plays across his features like words on a page.

“I don’t know…”

“Look, either you let me use the bathroom or things are going to get really messy in here.” I grimace and double over slightly. “Is that really how you want Ambassador Eirik to find me when he returns? Bloody and crying because I couldn’t clean myself?”

That does it. His resolve crumbles visibly as he imagines having to deal with that particular situation. The thought of Eirik’s fury outweighs his strict adherence to protocol.

“Okay, but make it quick.” He approaches with his key card, the device humming softly in his hand. “And no funny business.”

“Thank you,” I breathe with genuine relief. “You’re very kind.”

The lock disengages with a soft click that echoes in the quiet corridor. As he reaches for my arm to escort me, I stumble forward, seemingly off-balance. Just as I predict, he automatically moves to steady me, his training and natural instincts working against him.

I strike like a snake.

In one fluid motion, I dart past him as he reaches for my arm, using my smaller size and agility to my advantage. Before he can react, I’m behind him, shoving him hard into the cell with both hands. He stumbles forward, caught off guard by the sudden movement.

At the same moment, I snatch the blaster from its holster as he tries to steady himself. The weapon feels solid in my hands as I level it at his chest. His young face twists with an almost comical surprise, then his eyes enlarge as he focuses on the barrel of the blaster, aimed straight at his chest.

“Don’t move,” I command. “Now, let’s make this simple. Access card and shackles. Slowly.”

His face flushes with anger and embarrassment, but the barrel of his own weapon pointed at him makes a compelling argument. With trembling hands, he unclips both items from his belt.

“Slide them over,” I instruct, keeping my distance. The metallic scrape of the items skittering across the floor echoes in the cell.

“You won’t get far,” he warns, but there’s uncertainty in his voice. “What are you even going to do in the battle? You’re just a girl.”

I retrieve the items while keeping the blaster trained on him. “Hands behind your back, facing the wall.” When he hesitates, I add firmly, “Now. You don’t know me, but I grew up in Sargul’s Fortress. I’m tougher than I look. They will need me.”

The shackles click satisfyingly as I secure his wrists on the bars at the far side of the cell.

“I’m sorry about this,” I tell him sincerely. “Really. You seem like a nice kid.”

I reach for the handkerchief that dangles from his pants pocket, then stuff it in his mouth, muffling his protests as I check the restraints one final time before stepping out of the cell. The magnetic lock engages with a soft hum, leaving him secured inside the prison meant for me.

“Someone will let you out soon,” I promise as I check his weapon. Standard issue blaster, fully charged, the power cell humming with lethal potential. “Try to think of this as a learning experience.”

His muffled curse suggests he’s not appreciating the educational value of the moment. I can’t say I blame him. The poor boy will probably get hell for what I did.

I pause at the door, guilt twisting in my gut as I look back at him. He’s so young, probably not even twenty. His eyes hold more fear than anger now, and for a moment I see myself at that age—trapped in a life I hadn’t chosen, following orders I didn’t fully understand.

But I can’t let these kinds of thoughts stop me now. Eirik and the others are walking into a death trap without me. Sargul’s men will be waiting, and they need every advantage they can get.

I slip into the corridor, my feet completely silent on the stone floor. I move like a ghost through the stone hallways, taking my time to make sure I can make my way undetected. The stolen blaster feels warm against my palm, its grip a grim reminder of the danger lurking behind every corner. My heart thunders in my chest, but years of practice keep my movements fluid and silent. Down one corridor, then another, I navigate the maze-like structure of the Enforcers’ quarters. Voices echo from adjoining hallways—heavy boots on stone floors, the clipped tones of officers giving orders.

I press myself into an alcove as two Enforcers rush past, their faces tight with tension. They’re discussing the upcoming assault, clearly afraid of what’s to come. Good. Let them chase shadows while I make my exit.

The maintenance access tunnel appears exactly where I remember—a narrow service shaft running between the main corridors. I use Jax’s access card to open the door, slipping inside just as another patrol rounds the corner. The space is tight, thick with dust and the musty smell of disuse. Perfect. No one ever thinks to watch the spaces between spaces.

Keeping my breathing steady, I move through the service tunnel, counting intersections. Three right, two left, then down. There—the subtle vibration of the ventilation system tells me I’m near the outer wall.

I emerge into a utility room filled with humming electrical panels. The window is small, barely large enough to squeeze through, but the drop to the alley below isn’t bad, maybe fifteen feet. Child’s play for someone who’s spent their life scaling buildings to steal from Tartarus’s richest citizens.

I slip out, clinging to the rough stone facade. Below, Tartarus spreads out in the sleepy maze of darkened streets and shadowy alleys. On the other side of the city, Sargul’s Fortress waits. I drop silently to the alley below, already plotting my route through the familiar streets.

I move fast, jogging instead of walking. I know the assault can start at any time and I need to be there to help.

Shit. I’m too late.

Somewhere in the distance, the battle for my former home is beginning. I can hear the distant sound of explosions, feel the vibrations through the soles of my boots. The time for playing it safe is over.

I run.