Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
The wind screamed in his ears as he plummeted several floors, the city lights rushing toward him before the line went taut and his shoulder was wrenched with such brutal force it almost took it from its socket.
“Hang on, Valor!” Jo screamed from the open door.
No fuckin’ shit.
The helicopter’s nose dipped as if the pilot struggling to regain control.
Other faces peered down at him from the aircraft, but he stayed focused.
Valor glanced below and saw two of the guards helping their wounded while the other fired a barrage of rounds toward him, but they went wide, lost in the madness of rotor wash and darkness.
As the helicopter swung around the building, Valor turned his head toward Zorion’s terrace.
Gunfire sparked, hitting tree bark and shattering glass. They were using lethal ammunition. Zorion was moving through the trees, a shadow slipping through the branches with stealth and swiftness. The guards tried to track him, but they looked confused and pissed.
“Try not to shoot to kill!” Valor heard. “We need him alive.”
“That’s if we can fuckin’ catch him!”
Valor would’ve laughed if he wasn’t suspended in midair, only his arm keeping him from plummeting to his death.
Valor caught sight of the same massive hawk that had warned them circling the terrace. He was black as night, his wings spread almost five feet, talons curved frighteningly as if about to catch his prey.
Zorion emerged from the trees as he made eye contact with him.
Come on, baby. I’ve got you.
“To the right, catch him before he jumps!”
A guard holding a taser kicked into another gear, as if running with all his might.
Zorion raced to the edge. He was just a few feet away when the guard lunged and got a grip on his shoulder.
No!
With unfathomable speed, the hawk dove with a piercing screech. It struck and sunk its razor-sharp claws into the man’s face, tearing at his eyes in a burst of feathers and fury.
The second Zorion was free, he leaped off the railing, launching himself into darkness. He spread his arms wide and the wingsuit flared open.
Like a hot blade cutting through butter, Zorion soared downward as bullets chased him. He twisted mid-glide, banking sharply as if he’d been using that suit for years.
Valor clenched his jaw. His timing had to be perfect.
The helicopter drew level with Zorion’s descent, and Valor angled himself against the rope’s tension. The wind tugged him and his shoulder screamed, but he wouldn’t let go. He’d never let Zorion down.
Zorion shot closer, and Valor extended his other arm.
Their fingers caught and locked, and the extra weight sent a jolt of excruciating pain up Valor’s arm and through his chest, but he held on tight.
“I got you!”
Zorion’s expression was calm, his eyes full of trust. “I know.”
The rappelling system activated and pulled them both upward. Valor tightened his grip even more because if Zorion fell, he’d let go too.
The moment they were inside, the helicopter banked hard, gaining altitude as the facility blurred below them.
Zorion crashed into his chest, their bodies pressed hard together, hearts pounding in unison. Zorion’s breath was hot against his neck, his arms tight around his waist, as if afraid to let go and find out their escape was all a dream.
Valor cupped Zorion’s chin and tilted his head up. Those soft green eyes were full of emotion, and without a word, he closed the distance and their lips met with a fierce, desperate electricity.
Valor savored the deliciousness of freedom on Zorion’s tongue, and he didn’t stop until he heard someone clear their throat.
Chief Aiken Oakley
Valor
The helicopter’s engine was a comforting drone.
They were free.
Valor sat close to Zorion in the spacious cabin as Jo motioned for them to put on the padded headphones hanging beside them.
She was still clad in her sleek black ninja gear as her voice crackled through the headset.
“We pulled this off because of some kickass teamwork.” Jo nodded to the others in the back seats. “Meet the people who helped make your escape possible.”
Valor scanned their faces. The first two he recognized immediately. Dr. Santana and Dr. Pheung gave hesitant waves. They’d left behind the lab coats and were now dressed in dark-green tactical jackets and pants.
Next to him were two men he recognized from Cipher’s team. One was from the combat wardrobe team, a lean man with an inquisitive gaze and short curly black hair. He wore a sleek black outfit with reinforced material, looking more like a field operative than someone who designed warfare gear.
Beside him was the weapons specialist. He believed her name was Sable. A beautiful Black woman with jet-black hair and a scar running from her right brow to her ear, as if danger had always been her occupation.
Jo pointed to a young guy slouched in his seat wearing a different set of headphones than the rest of them as if in his own world. His fingers flew across the keyboard of the compact computer in his lap.