Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

EIGHTEEN

Josef Nast. My father's brother. My uncle, though he'd never admitted as much. We'd glimpsed each other only in passing, his look always freezing any greeting--friendly or sarcastic--in my throat.

I got that same look now, a slow once-over of distaste and contempt.

"Savannah," he said. "Can't stay out of trouble, I see."

"I--"

"You've put yourself in a very dangerous position. Consorting with known terrorists. Running through a dark warehouse, where no one can be expected to see who you are."

"I--"

"You've caused enough trouble for my family, Savannah. Your paternity claims sully my brother's reputation. The fact that Sean believes them makes my father's chosen heir look gullible and weak. Now turn around."

"No."

"I said--"

"If you're going to shoot me, you'll do it looking into my eyes, which tell you exactly who my father is, as much as you might hate to believe it."

He didn't look me in the eyes. He couldn't because I was right--my eyes were his eyes, Nast eyes, that unmistakable bright blue.

"Get on your knees, Savannah."

"Sir--" Kaufman stepped forward. "You can't--"

"You and you." Josef pointed at two of the others. "Take Captain Kaufman outside. Hand him over to Anderson. He's being charged with insubordination."

"No." Kaufman moved to my side as his two comrades stepped forward. "I won't stand by--"

Josef's energy bolt knocked Kaufman off his feet. "Then you won't stand by. You two, take him outside."

"But he's right," said a voice in the darkness. "You can't do this, Josef. And you won't." Mom stepped up behind Josef and put her sword tip to the back of his neck. "Can you feel that?" To his men, she said, "I'll have his head by his feet before anyone can pull the trigger. Lower your weapons."

"Don't you dare--" Josef shut up as the sword dug deeper.

"Lower your weapons!"

When one raised his rifle, Mom kicked Josef in the back of the legs, then lunged and cleaved the officer's arm off at midbicep. It happened so fast that he just stood there, watching the gun tumble to the ground in his severed hand. Then he started to scream.

I hit Josef with a knockback before he could rise. Mom planted a foot on his back and nudged the sword-tip along his spine, positioning it between his ribs. Then she nodded toward the injured officer, his screams now reduced to shocked heaves as he frantically tried to stanch the bleeding.

"Someone might want to help him before he bleeds out."

Kaufman was the one who went to his aid. The others just stood there, gazes fixed on the glowing sword. One crossed himself and whispered under his breath.

"Yes, the sword is what it looks like," she said. "And I'm who I look like." She leaned over Josef, who twisted to stare up at her, as shocked as the injured officer. "Hey, Josef. I'd say Kris sends his regards, but he won't be happy about this. He really won't be happy. Now, Savannah and I are going to walk away and--"

"I can't let you do that, ma'am," said a voice behind us.

Floodlights flicked on and we saw another half-dozen armed men surrounding us. The officer in charge stepped forward.

"I'm going to ask you to remove that sword and let Mr. Nast up. I'm only going to ask you once."

"I'm not--"

"Mom?"