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I looked at Talia. “Stay behind me.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Then she nodded.

No argument.

Not because she accepted my authority.

Because she understood the threat.

Good.

I moved toward the door as silver-white current spread beneath my skin.

This time, I knew exactly why.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Talia

The clinic door opened. A Zunatorian male stepped through—gray axŭ, broad shoulders, heavy build, amber ŭre flaring beneath his skin as he raised his weapon. His weight settled evenly, knees slightly bent, the muzzle of his firearm tracking the room in a smooth, economical arc. Not the aggressive stance of a warrior, but something colder. More deliberate. The way a handler approaches a contained threat.

Then Veyr moved.

Not a blur, not a dash—a displacement. One moment his heat was at my shoulder; the next, the air where he’d been was cool and empty. He was already across the room.

Silver-white lines of ŭre ignited beneath his skin, hard and bright as circuitry. The attacker’s weapon came up—too slow. Veyr’s hand closed around his wrist. A sound like tearing foil filled the air, and the male’s amber ŭre flickered wildly. His fingers spasmed open. The weapon clattered against the floor. Veyr’s elbow caught him in the throat, a short, brutal motion that drove him back into the wall with a dull thud of impact. I flinched.

A second Zunatorian male filled the doorway, the pale green lines of his ŭre igniting like circuitry along his neck and forearms. The muzzle of his weapon flashed. Veyr pivoted—a fraction of a second, a shift of weight—and the energy blast seared the air where his head had been.

“Down.”

My knees hit the floor before my mind registered the command. The blast tore into the medical cabinet behind me; glass and metal screeched. Somewhere to my left, Darev cursed, low and vicious. I scrambled on hands and knees behind the examination table, the thud of my heart a painful, frantic drum against my ribs.

Another shot came.

Then another.

Metal cracked. Something shattered. Glass, maybe. I couldn’t tell where.

Veyr moved through all of it like he had already seen what everyone else was going to do.

He dropped low before the second male’s muzzle even finished rising, crossed the room in two strides, caught him by the front of his clothing, and drove him into the edge of the counter.

The attacker swung.

Veyr blocked.

Silver-white current flashed from Veyr’s forearm into the other male’s shoulder. His green ŭre flared violently beneath his skin, and the smell of scorched fabric filled the room.

The male screamed.

My stomach turned.

Veyr did not stop.

He twisted the male’s arm behind his back and slammed him face-first against the wall.