Page 57 of Red Marked

“They’re well,” he says. “They’re in an apartment in the residence wing. Two of my males are on the door, two outside watching the windows. They’ve had water and a shower. Koa was talking about seeing her mother when I left.”

Something in my chest loosens. I push out a breath and nod.

“I want to see them once we’re inside.”

“No.”

“Flint—”

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head once. “Every guard in this facility knows those three are up there. That corridor has more eyes on it tonight than the gate does. You walk into that section of the building, and you’re done. We both are.”

I open my mouth, but he talks over me.

“A team from Draig lands at first light to take them home. Magma is bringing them himself. You’ll be able to watch it happen from my apartment. It looks out over the fields.” He holds up a finger. “You will need to be careful that nobody sees you through my window.”

I nod even though I don’t like it.

He’s right. It doesn’t make it easier. Five years of being the one who decides, and now I’m handing that over to a male I’ve known for two nights. Trusting anyone doesn’t come easily anymore.

Right now, I don’t have a choice. I’ve trusted him this far.

“Okay.” I push the word out.

“Good.” He looks in the direction of the fence again, then back at me. “Now, the hard part. I need to get you inside without either of us being caught, and I need you to understand what that means.”

“I’m listening.”

“You do everything I tell you. Every command, to the letter, the second I give it. No questions. If I say down, you’re already on the ground. We need to be quick and quiet. If anyone comes near us, you hide, and you stay hidden until I tell you it’s safe. Nobody must see you. There are cameras, but I know where the very few dead zones are.”

“I’ve become very good at hiding,” I tell him. “And at moving without being heard. It’s how we’ve stayed alive this long. We’ve never relied on strength against the males who came up that ravine.” I hold his eyes. “We have stealth, agility, and cunning. It’s kept every one of my females breathing for this long. I am sure it will serve me tonight.”

“Good.” He nods. “Because you’re going to need all three.”

He moves quickly and quietly through the undergrowth, and I keep to his heels, matching him step for step. The trees thin, the floodlights grow bigger as we get closer, and the ground starts to slope up toward the fence.

He stops with one arm out, and I stop.

Beyond the last of the trees is a strip of cleared ground, then the fence. It’s chain-link, three times my height, topped with coils of wire that glitter under the lights. There’s a dirt track that runs along the inside of it, and every forty paces or so, a floodlight on a pole throws a circle of white onto the track.

Out on the track, a guard walks into the light on the far right and out of it again. He has a rifle slung across his back, his head turning slowly left, then right. I widen my eyes at the sight of the gun. Shifters don’t usually use weapons, but I guess it’s understandable since these jungles are crawling with feral males.

He walks out of sight, and Flint starts to move.

I follow him.

Then we’re at the fence, and he’s already climbing, fingers hooked through the links. I do too.

He reaches the top, grips the bar beneath the coils, and swings his legs over in one clean move. I follow, careful not to let the T-shirt snag on the barbed wire.

We drop the last few feet together and land in a crouch in the gray seam, and neither of us breathes for a few moments.

When all is clear, Flint jerks his head left, and we run, bent low, along the inside of the fence, hugging the dark.

He stops at the corner of a long, low building.

“Camera,” he mouths, and points up.

Bolted under the eave is a small gray box with a red dot burning on its face. It’s aimed at the fence line. Not at the gravel.