Gunshot was louder on the Dossier—or maybe it was the silence after that made it so loud.
Wick looked at the hole in his chest and gave a gurgle—wet and gasping. Ana could only watch in horror, her hands bound behind her, as the man who’d taught her how to clean a pistol and speak Cercian, and darn her own socks, slumped onto the floor and went still.
The air stank of gunpowder and iron. It suffocated her.
“Seems you pirates do have honor after all,” Lady Valerio said, amused, and handed Siege’s gun to one of her henchmen to reload. As if she couldn’t care to load her own bullets, while the captain had taught Ana to count each one.
Remember where they land.
“You killed him,” Ana heard herself saying, her voice calmer than she expected. “You killed him!”
The shock that quivered and quaked inside her began to turn, coiling into bitterness, tightening, until it was hot and angry. She glared up through wet lashes and found herself gazing down the barrel of the woman’s pistol.
“You’ll be next if you don’t hush up. Do you even know who you’re speaking to?” asked Lady Valerio.
“A dead woman,” Ana growled in reply.
The lady’s expression shifted—just slightly—but it was there. The twitch of an eyebrow. Ana knew she’d struck a nerve. “Robbert, who is she? She looks familiar—wait. Isn’t she the assassin? I seem to recall a Metal as well. Where is it?”
“Smashed, Mother,” Robb replied, his voice tight. “The body is in the infirmary.”
His mother looked to a guard for confirmation. Lady Valerio didn’t even trust her own son?
“He’s correct, milady. There’s a Metal on the ground and two body bags—one on the gurney.”
“What a pity,” said the woman. “Dead crewmates, a smashed Metal . . . did you outlaws run into trouble?”
When no one answered, her lips twisted with impatience.
“Robbert, pray tell, what did they come all the way out here to find?”
He pursed his lips. Ana didn’t think he had it in him to be quiet—the spineless piece of spacetrash he was.
But he didn’t answer—and neither did anyone else. The woman snapped her fingers. In two steps the Valerio commander had taken Lenda by her hair and forced her head back, pressing a blade to her neck.
“It was the Tsarina!” Ana said, her voice quivering with thinly veiled rage. Lady Valerio raised a single sharp eyebrow and motioned for her commander to lower her weapon. “We—we were looking for the fleetship. We wanted to loot it. You know us outlaws.”
“Yes, I’m well aware. And I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not lying.”
Lady Valerio waved a hand dismissively at Ana, her diamond rings glinting in the halogen lights. “Robbert, take your newfound friend here to one of the holding cells on the ship. We have a reward to collect, and she will do.”
Talle rose to her feet. “Don’t you dare take her—” The Valerio commander slammed the hilt of her blade into Talle’s gut, and she slumped to the floor again.
Robbert Valerio came and tok Ana by the arm.
He was perfectly careful to keep his face impassive—as though he wore a mask. Or maybe his expressions before had been the mask, and this was the real monster underneath.
All Ironbloods were monsters—she didn’t know why she ever thought one could be different.
“Don’t make this difficult,” he warned her, pulling her away from her crew.
Ana looked back at Jax, Talle, Lenda—but all she could see was Di the moment before he died. She had heard the stories of what happened to outlaws, to the forgotten and the unwanted and the broken. They didn’t matter in this kingdom.
They didn’t exist.
“Take the star-kisser too. Question him about the Tsarina. The Solani will break if he’s left in the dark long enough. Do what you want with the rest of them,” Lady Valerio ordered her commander.
“You can’t do that!” Ana cried. “We surrendered!”
“My girl”—the Ironblood woman shook her head—“we are not pirates. We don’t follow rules.”
Then she waved Robb away with a flick of her wrist.
Ana bucked against him as he dragged her into the air lock, where an elaborate starwalk, like a long tube, stretched the ten feet from the Dossier to the Valerio ship. The starwalk groaned as they entered. She jerked against him, fighting, and with every movement his fingers dug deeper into her skin. In the air lock on the other side, two Valerio guards waited with drawn Metroids.
If Robb dragged her onto that ship, she would never escape.
Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her left thumb, and pulled—she pulled so hard it popped out of joint. She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t cry as she tore her hand out of the wire binding, skin scraping away.
Robb’s mouth fell open. Never underestimate an outlaw.
She reared her fist back and took a swing at him. He ducked, caught her bloody wrist, and twisted it painfully behind her.
“You punch like my brother,” he said against her ear, squeezing her arm so tight she couldn’t move. “Please don’t make this harder than it is. I don’t want to hurt you—”
She thrashed against him, getting her hand free of his grip, and grabbed at his side where his stitches were. He let out a painful gasp—and that only made her curl her fingers into the wound, squeezing harder, until blood soaked the shirt Jax had lent him.
“Great Dark take you, you son of a b—”
Something cool and sharp pricked against her neck, and a lazy honey feeling washed over her, numbing her into darkness.