The Black Tide (Outcast 3)

He glanced at me, eyebrow raised. “Did you approach all missions in such a haphazard manner?”

I half smiled. “It was hardly practical to plan anything in my previous line of work.”

The amusement faded from his expression. “How many of your targets did you kill during the war?”

“How many did you?” I countered. “It was a war, Jonas. The only difference between you and I—aside from being on opposite sides—is the fact you had a choice in everything you did. I did not.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “I never really thought of it like that.”

“Few did,” I said. “The shifters have spent decades blaming the weapons for the atrocities they committed during the war when you should have focused your anger and hate on those who were controlling said weapons and pulling the trigger.”

“All of which is true.” A wry smile touched his lips. “But it would hardly have fostered goodwill between humans and shifters in the years afterward.”

“No, but if people had taken a moment to think rather than react at the end of the war, you might now have a fighting force capable of standing up to the might of the Others.”

And saved us from death in the process, Cat said.

“And that is something I really wish I had the capacity to change.” Regret was evident in his tone. “But it was a decision the rangers were never consulted on.”

“And one you would not have changed even if you had been,” I countered.

“In truth, no. But I would have argued for a cleaner death.” He glanced at me, expression grim. “Believe that, if nothing else.”

I did believe, if only because he'd witnessed firsthand what Draccid could do when the gas had been used against his men during an attack against a human military base. However much he might have wanted revenge for both that situation and others, he would also have known there was a multitude of ordinary humans within our bunker—people who helped with day-to-day operations and kept the base running. He might have a deep, instinctive hatred for déchet, but he'd never been so blinded by it that he'd so wantonly and cruelly inflict such a death on those who were only doing their job.

Silence fell between us. As the minutes ticked by, a dark blot appeared on the horizon, growing even larger as we drew closer. It was a long building that was at least four stories high, and had a huge number five emblazoned on one section of its dark roof. It appeared to be made of the same metal as the curtain wall that protected Central, and I couldn’t see any ground-level entrances. In fact, there didn't seem to be any entry points at all, which suggested they were either hidden or that we were approaching from the wrong angle.

It was unfortunate that our prisoner had never been inside the warehouse. He might be human, but given the restriction against killing them had apparently disappeared, I might have been able to use my seeking skills to pick up a sense of the layout so that we wouldn’t be going in blind.

But, as usual, it looked like we’d have to do things the hard way.

“I'm not liking the look of that place,” I said. “And I can’t shake the growing sense that things will go very, very wrong inside.”

“And I'm thinking you’re right.” He studied the building for a couple of minutes and then said, “I'll contact Nuri and see if we've anyone close enough to provide a diversion.”

“I didn't think she wanted to risk any more people than necessary?”

“She doesn't, but she won't be pleased if we get in to that warehouse and can't get out.”

“Any good commander knows that that's sometimes the price of gaining information.”

“Yes, but in this case, she'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive.” His gaze met mine. “The wind whispers of a future without hope if you are not part of the forthcoming battle.”

My eyebrows rose. “So now I'm responsible for the fate of a world? When in Rhea did that happen?”

He shrugged. “The future is never static. It changes as events change.”

“And the missing children?”

“She didn't mention them, so I presume her prediction hasn't altered.”

“Marvelous.” Not that I intended to stop searching even if their fate had altered. If the future was always changing, it meant there was always hope.

Jonas didn't reply, and the slight buzz of energy running across the back of my thoughts said that he was in contact with Nuri. I wasn't entirely sure what sort of diversion she could arrange at such short notice, but if it only distracted the guards within that building for a few minutes, it might very well mean the difference between getting out or not.

Living or not.

As the black building began to dominate the horizon, the radio came to life. “Vehicle approaching from the old Central Road, please identify yourself.”