Her voice was soft, tentative. “I’m the middle child of seven siblings. Toronto doesn’t have the reputation of Chicago, but there are parts of the city that could give this one a run for its money. My father was a bus driver, my mother was just trying to get by. Some people would say they skimped on our education, so it somehow reflects on how I act or react. I worked hard at tempering my impulses. Work, experience, brought me that, alongside bruises, scars, and burns. I transformed those impulses into calculated risks that brought me here. It wasn’t a straight line, but one I chose. I may avoid and divert, but I don’t play games. I don’t know you well, and I don’t know why, but I don’t want to lie to you. Not everybody would be so selfless to defend a perfect stranger for a mission that may very well kill him.”
There was the faintest hint of a smile coloring her voice. She hadn’t answered his questions, not really, but her confession sounded sincere, which appeased him to a certain degree, a sort of first step.
“You said our and we. How many are there at Noctem? How many work for you?”
A smile, full of amusement, lit her face. “We’re a team. Otherwise, we’d kill each other. Although we do have a ringleader who keeps us freaks in line.” As she spoke, her laughter turned into a cough, and her mirth vanished as she held her middle. Discussion time was over.
Luke pushed himself up, his muscles screaming. Once in front of her, he offered his hand. “We’ll finish this chat, but do you mind if we wait until after a shower and coffee?”
Her smile returned as she clasped his hand. “Gimme chocolate and a bunch of painkillers and you have a deal, pal.”
Chapter 13
Sloane hated sewers! The only benefit apart from finding where the traffickers had gone, was that it obliterated the awful smell coming from Luke’s borrowed outfit.
The dead end was so surprising, Luke decided to backtrack to check they hadn’t missed an opening or vent where the traffickers had gone through.
The sewer system exited into the street, right in the open. Sloane doubted those boys were stupid enough to risk being seen unloading large quantities in the open and dropping it down the manhole. Another interesting point was that it was the only manhole where there was enough space to fit someone underneath. On the right and left, the system became even smaller. If they crawled into it, they might be able to get through,
but if she took into consideration the ten-minute window, it was highly improbable.
When they couldn’t find anything else in the tunnels, they returned to the manhole cover to take a peek. Not only were they under a street, but at an intersection with traffic lights.
The cold temperature pierced like a dagger through her tired and worn body, but she soldiered on, as she was more worried about Luke’s head injury than her own aches and pains. The rocks hadn’t only hurt his head, she could see he moved less easily than before.
They had to crawl to another manhole to be able to exit more discreetly and rushed to where she’d stashed the car.
Locked inside the car, she started the engine and turned the heating to the highest setting.
In the glove compartment, she took out a bottle of water and handed it to Luke. “Drink, please. Head wounds are tricky. You need to keep your fluids up.”
It was obvious he was ready to argue but gulped down half the bottle before putting it in her hand. Despite her parched throat, her fingers went to his forehead, checking the makeshift bandage with light fingers. “I think it stopped bleeding. It’s probably just a flesh wound.”
She knew Luke was still guarded and mostly pissed at her, but she felt relief when he didn’t pull away from her touch. Instead, he took her hand in his, squeezing gently.
“I’m fine. I have a thick skull. My head doesn’t hurt.”
How many times she had heard the same from the male members of her team. “Yeah, well, thick or not, you’re gonna see a doctor.”
With an arched eyebrow, Luke seemed surprised. “I think you should see one too, but maybe it would be wiser to change first.”
“As she’s part of our team, I think that how we’re dressed won’t be an issue. Your smell might cause a problem though.”
White teeth sliced through the dark beard. “You’re far from smelling like roses yourself.”
Wiggling her nose, she was preparing a comeback when the car’s comm system came to life, buzzing with an incoming call that she answered.
“Hey, Sloane speaking.” There was a slight hesitation. “Luke is with me. He knows.” Those last two words felt so weird in her mouth, but it was the truth.
“I think I need to tell someone, but I don’t know if I want to ruin the rest of my day.”
Devin was at the comms again, and Sloane was tempted to lean her forehead on the wheel. Typically, she’d have taken the hacker’s sarcasm head-on, but her energy and tolerance were blinking on empty. “Luke requires a medic.” At least her words had the advantage of bringing back the urgency without having her to slap him on the back of his head.
“And Sloane has to be checked too.”
That ended the conversation and Devin grew serious. “Melina is already here. Can you drive, or do you need backup?”
“We’re on our way.”
He hadn’t said anything for the rest of the ride, but Sloane didn’t have to look to know that Luke took notice of every second of the route she was taking. Devin had uploaded the safest and quickest way to Noctem, and she was grateful for it when the garage door opened, and they were inside. Lance stood at the parking space, all tall and brooding, at the ready.
“Welcome to Noctem, professor. Hope you don’t come to regret it.”
Unfolding out of the car was an exercise in pain, but Sloane wasn’t going to show it.
Lance scanned her body and the state of her suit and it was clear he didn’t believe her little show, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
Lance turned to Luke, and the air shifted. The professor stood by the car, and the tension spiked. Nobody could physically compare to Lance’s massive body, but Luke Radcliffe wasn’t going to back down. Despite being grimy and wounded he took a step forward and the air of danger enveloping him told her the former Marine was barely concealed beneath the veneer of the scholar.
Lance must have sensed that too, as his shoulders rolled and he nodded. “Professor Radcliffe. I’m Lance Sorenson. Welcome to Noctem.” It was clear Lance wasn’t happy about the circumstances, but there was no turning back now.
Luke took his hand. “Please call me Luke.”
Again, the two men sized each other up, not quite breaking the handshake when Melina walked in, the British doctor deeply annoyed. “Oh, for goodness’ sake! Lance! We have two people injured, and you’re standing around shaking hands?” The platinum-blonde woman quickly took charge of the situation with a glance, immediately going to Luke. “Stand down, Lance. You can see he has a head wound. Explanations and face-offs will have to wait until I’m done with him.” Her face softened into a smile when she addressed Luke. “I’m Melina and a doctor. Could you please follow me to the medic bay?”
Luke sighed. “Could you check Sloane first? She was hit with at least five bullets in her body armor.”