Chapter 1107
“Parker, listen to me. You’re not well. Let Victoria go.”
“No!” Parker screamed. “The Master says she’s the leverage! I have to bring the leverage!”
The smell of antiseptic was the first thing that registered. Sharp, chemical, clean. It burned the back of Skye’s throat.
She opened her eyes. The light was dim. She was in a hospital bed, her left arm immobilized in a sling against her chest. A dull, throbbing ache radiated from her shoulder — muted by painkillers, but present enough to remind her she was alive.
Skye blinked, trying to clear the fog in her head.
“Thorne?” she rasped.
“Disappointed?” a voice answered from the corner.
Skye turned her head. It wasn’t Alistair.
Sitting in the visitor’s chair, peeling an apple with a small pocket knife, was Gabriel Ross.
Adrenaline spiked through her, cutting straight through the morphine haze. She tried to sit up, but the pain drove her back down. She reached for the call button with her right hand.
“I wouldn’t,” Gabriel said calmly, not looking up from the apple. “I disabled the alarm. And the cameras are on a loop.”
“How did you get in here?” Skye demanded, her voice sharper now. “This is a Thorne secure facility.”
“I built half the security protocols in this city, Skye,” Gabriel said, slicing a piece of apple and placing it in his mouth. “Backdoors are my specialty.”
He stood and walked to the foot of the bed. He looked tired — dark circles under his eyes, his usually pristine suit rumpled.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said. “If I wanted you dead, I would have let the gas do it.”
“You work for them,” Skye said. “Ouroboros.”
“I work for my own interests,” Gabriel corrected, his expression darkening. “Until an hour ago, that meant helping you take down Marcus. But the landscape shifted at the Gala. Marcus is a burnt asset. The Master reached out directly — made an offer that makes your billions look like pocket change. And unlike you, he doesn’t pay in gratitude.”
He set the knife down on the tray table. “I have information. But it costs.”
“She’s not buying what you’re selling, Gabriel. You betrayed us.”
“I survived,” he shrugged. “There’s a difference. Listen to me — Parker Hayes didn’t just escape. He was activated.”
Skye went still. “Activated? Like a sleeper agent?”
“The torture the Administrator put him through wasn’t just cruelty,” Gabriel leaned in. “They rewired his brain. He’s a walking time bomb. And he just went off.”
The door burst open.
Alistair strode in, gun already drawn. He didn’t hesitate — he leveled it at Gabriel’s chest.
“Step away from her,” Alistair growled. He was still wearing the blood-stained tuxedo shirt, his face a mask of exhaustion and fury.
Gabriel raised his hands slowly. “Easy, Thorne. I was just leaving.”
“Give me one reason not to put a bullet in you right now,” Alistair said, thumbing the safety off.
“Because I know where Parker is taking Victoria,” Gabriel said.