She peered over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here. With me,” he added, in case that wasn’t clear.
River’s lips tilted into a small smile, and she held on to the door handle. “Thanks, Nik. Me, too.”
CHAPTER 16
The Pit
Standing guard on a regular day had never been one of Nikhail’s favorite duties. Standing guard today, knowing that if he wasn’t working, he could be spending the day with River, was excruciating.
Adjusting his suit jacket, Nikhail barely bit back a groan. He couldn’t get distracted—he was at work, after all. Tyson Stills had yet to return, which meant that today, Nikhail was stationed outside the Representative’s office.
Yesterday had been quiet. River had mostly stayed in her room at Atlas’s, only venturing out to eat before disappearing once again. Whatever had happened with Ryker had clearly shaken her, and Nikhail hadn’t wanted to push her.
This morning, River had been asleep when he left for work. An hour ago, he’d received a text from her saying that she’d woken up and was planning her day. She was going to stick around Atlas’s house and make a few calls, including to her best friend, Ember.
Nikhail had been relieved when he heard that River was going to stay at the house. It was secure, and it made Nikhail feel slightly better about being at work.
Even though there hadn’t been another rebel attack, Nikhail couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of unease that had been plaguing him. Usually, the lack of rebel activity would be a good thing. A time of rest. This felt different, though.
As if the rebels were building up to something, and the silence was purposeful. A way to ease the Representatives into complacency before something worse hit.
Maddox stood on the other side of the door, and the Death Elf seemed equally on edge. His jaw was tense as he stared down the hallway, his posture one of a man who rarely relaxed.
A vibration started in Nikhail’s pocket. With a glance at his surroundings, then at the door at his back, where the faint sounds of murmured conversation wafted through the crack at the bottom, he pulled out his phone.
Nikhail recognized the name flashing across the top of his screen, so he slid his thumb across the display, accepting the call.
“Corporal Rune. I assume you have news?”
Lukas Rune, an Earth Elf who had been born Without, had been a member of Nikhail’s team for over two years. Even though some people in the Republic looked down on those born Without, Rune’s lack of magic had never bothered Nikhail. If anything, Lukas worked harder than anyone else on his team, which made him a valuable asset.
When Nikhail had stepped in to cover the temporary vacancy on Representative Waterborn’s security detail, he’d assigned Corporal Rune to continue working on the phone he had uncovered at the last bombing.
“Yes, sir,” Lukas said.
There was a pause that had Nikhail’s stomach contorting. “Goodnews?” he prodded.
“It’s… I’m not sure, sir.”
Nikhail crossed his arms, pressing the phone more firmly against his ear. “Explain.”
“Of course, sir.” Lukas started talking faster. “I was able to unlock the device, but as you know, the Black Night typically doesn’t communicate using regular technology.”
This was common knowledge, and one of the reasons that locking down the Black Night’s movements had been so difficult until now.
“Go on,” Nikhail said.
“The device is encrypted, but it contains several scanned documents. I was able to open one of them, but it isn’t written in the Common Tongue.” The phone buzzed. “I just emailed you a copy. It appears to be written in an ancient vampiric script.”
Nikhail drew his phone away from his ear long enough to open the file. The text was unreadable, at least to him.
“Well, it’s a good thing we know where to find a vampire rebel,” Nikhail said with a sigh. “Meet me at The Pit.”
Prisons,as a general rule, were inhospitable and uninviting, but The Pit was truly abysmal. It was where the Republic of Balance’s worst of the worst were sent to live out the rest of their days.
Today, the prison’s air was frigid, nipping at Nikhail’s skin as they rode the elevator, descending into the bowels of the wretched prison. The bone-chilling temperature made the already insufferable experience of being in this prison even worse.