Dominant Predator Read Free Page A

coalescing of atoms and cells, blood thrumming, heart pumping. I sucked in a desperate breath that burned, my lungs fighting the sudden inhalation. I reached out for something—someone?—gritted my teeth, and found my awareness. Remembered.
    My shot. The Premiere. The bunker.
    Armise.
    “Fuck,” a laboured voice behind me groaned. An arm gripped me tighter, drawing my twitching body into an iron embrace.
    Too close. Too much. This—this intimacy—wasn’t what happened after a kill.
    I let my head fall to the cool, smooth floor and tried to calm my racing heartbeat and spasming muscles as I yanked the hand off my stomach.
    Armise let go of me without protest. I rolled away from him then to my feet, hesitating for only a fraction of a second as I stood. The nerves in my legs tingled. I could feel the rush of surge—that potent drug—thrumming through my veins—only remnants now—enough to dull the pain of the transport.
    “Great shot,” a woman’s voice came from the other side of the room.
    I shielded my eyes from the glare of the white ceramic floor and took in the petite frame of the woman leaning against the wall, her black skin in sharp relief to the sterile silver metal walls.
    I grunted in response to Jegs and looked down at Armise.
    He was on his back on the transport floor, eyes closed, the sinew of his neck and veins popping out with the effort it was taking for him to get the pain under control.
    “I thought you only travelled via transport,” I said with disbelief and just a hint of a taunt.
    Armise’s silver eyes snapped open, caught me in a clear, challenging glare. “Your transport technology is obviously inferior to Singapore’s,” he gritted out. “No wonder you never choose to travel this way. How do we know that each time we transport it’s not slowly killing us?”
    “We don’t,” Jegs answered for me as she tipped her head in Armise’s direction. “So. You’re the traitor.”
    Armise sat up, threw an arm over his knees and scratched at his beard. “I suppose so,” he answered without flinching. “I’m guessing from the slashes that you’re Jegs. You weren’t exactly conscious the first time we met.”
    Jegs narrowed her eyes and didn’t answer him. From the brief blankness that overtook her eyes, I knew she was trying to access the memory of her captivity in Singapore. Trying to decide if Armise was the one who had nearly killed her.
    “He wasn’t the one,” I reassured her.
    She didn’t take her focus off Armise. “You sure about that?”
    I shrugged. “Relatively. Where’s the President?”
    She pushed off the wall and started to the door. “Should be here. He was set to transport in with the newly promoted General Neveed Niaz right after your shot. Simion is on that detail.”
    “Just how many transport rooms do you have?” Armise asked as he stood.
    “Enough—”
    “Four—”
    Jegs and I answered at the same time.
    I pointed at her. “This ends here.”
    She gave a clipped nod, restrained anger evident in her pursed lips and the flat black of her eyes.
    “Order received,” she acknowledged. She approached me and held out her hand—two capsules of surge resting on her palm. “For the external damage this one did to you in the tunnels.”
    I took the capsules, downed one and threw the other to Armise. Immediately I could feel the press of my swollen left eye easing and my injured shoulder loosening.
    Above our heads a high-pitched whine gained in volume, followed closely by a screeching explosion and the muted patter of debris drumming to the ground metres above us on the surface streets of the capital. The ground beneath my feet shook, dirt scattering from the packed earth ceiling.
    “What is that sound?” I said, my voice breaking from my inability to draw in a full breath.
    Jegs cocked her head as if she wasn’t sure what I was referring to even as the room continued to reverberate around us. Another thundering boom came from above and the