Page 6 of Beautiful Prey

I jump. Heads turn along the entire queue, and the sound keeps screaming in my ears as the attendant checks her screen. She looks at it twice, but her expression barely changes.

My heart climbs into my throat.

“Once more, please.”

Like nothing has happened.

I wipe my palm again and put it back.

Amber.

The alarm starts again.

The attendant’s eyes move past my shoulder. She straightens by an inch.

Then he’s beside me.

One of the nine towers over the desk, black gear fitted close to his body, storm cloak falling almost to his boots. Where his face should be, my reflection waits in the visor.

Small. Distorted. Dusty.

“Is there a problem?” he rasps.

“No.” The word catches somewhere in my throat.

I force myself to meet the visor again. If I look away now, he’ll see exactly how scared I am.

The attendant clears her throat. “The scan, sir. It flagged twice.”

“Onyx Mercer.” He reads the name from her screen.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’re from Calder?”

“Yes, sir. Born and raised.”

I swallow. Sweat gathers at my forehead.

“That’s a long way to come.” The visor dips toward the screen. “A medical history this long, and you carried your own pack up all those intake steps without stopping to breathe?”

Every muscle in my jaw tightens. “I have good days, sir.”

“Do you now?”

I wet my lips, hating myself for doing so. “Today’s a good day.”

The visor stays on me. “Run it again.”

She runs the scan again. Amber flashes beneath my hand, and the alarm shrieks through the hall for the third time. “Sir, it’s never⁠—”

“Turn that fucking thing off. It hurts my ears.”

She kills the alarm. He reaches across the desk, taps her screen once, and the panel beneath my hand turns green.

My stomach drops.

He did that.