Page 57 of Shadow Blind
His brother shrugged. “They are not active. We have identified the components used to create them. Knowing this, there are many theories on how they replicate, how they transfer to other victims, how they affect their hosts. Yes—even how they might be turned off. But with no active bots to test on, or observe, all we have is assumptions. We were unable to reactivate even a single bot, no matter the methods used. And without active bots to experiment on, there can be no tests on turning them off.” Wolf rolled his neck, looking momentarily disheartened.
Aiden digested that. “There are still the two clowns your boys took control of. Let’s have a go at them. See who they point us to.” He pushed himself up. “We should look into Grigory Kuznetsov, too, the arms dealer we were sent into Karaveht to find. USSOCOM spooks swore the bastard was in Karaveht. If they’re right, he must have headed up the testing there.”
“There is another matter.” Benioko straightened and set his shoulders, an implacable mask settling over his face.
Cautiously, Aiden sank back into his chair and studied the shaman’s suddenly formidable aura. Benioko had gone from frail and diminished to proud and powerful in the space of a heartbeat.
“Shadow Warrior grows weary of your deliberate eseneee.” The shaman’s hooded eyes were locked on Aiden, making it clear to whom he referred. “It is time for you to cease this foolishness and learn the Kalikoia ways. Our future, indeed, the future of all Hokalita’s children, depends on this.”
There was more to this than Aiden not knowing the tribal language. A lot more. Every muscle in his body tensed in resistance. He was not Kalikoia. He did not belong to this tribe.
“I wasn’t informed that staying here and working with Shadow Mountain personnel to prevent the apocalypse hinged on submitting to your tribal ways.” His voice hardened. “If so, I’ll pass. I have no interest in the Kalikoia. I don’t believe in your Shadow Warrior, or elder gods, or any of your tribal mythology.”
Wolf stirred, then went still, his gaze on the table. But disapproval emanated from him, prickling against Aiden’s ire.
A sharp crack of laughter rose from Benioko. “It matters not what you believe. Or where your interests pull you. The Shadow Warrior and elder gods have chosen you. You have no say in this.”
“Fuck that,” Aiden drawled.
The old shaman simply smiled. A grim smile.
One that looked like a threat.
Chapter twenty-four
Day 7
Denali, Alaska
As soon as the helicopter landed, Cosky shoved back the cargo door and hopped to the ground. Turning, he grabbed Trident’s kennel. She couldn’t tell whether the cat was making a fuss. The deafening scream of the engine and whop whop whop of the blades spinning overhead filled her ears. Huddled in the jacket O’Neill had handed her when they’d boarded the Bell, she exited the helicopter. Instinct kept her head and shoulders curled and her hands over her hair as she hunched her way out from beneath the blades.
The helicopter had set down in the middle of a circular driveway, one that snaked toward and then away from a rectangular house bursting with windows. The road had been plowed, but there were clumps of ice scattered about. They sparkled like diamonds beneath three triangulated overhead lamps.
Once she was far enough from the chopper blades that her hair agreed to stay on her head, she stopped to stare in wonder.
The helicopter had whisked her to a Christmas paradise. The house and its surroundings looked like something ripped from a Nicky Boehme painting. The rectangular house, with bright white light streaming through its endless windows, lit the night like a flare. Icicles and jewel-toned Christmas lights dangled from the edge of the bonnet style roof. Snow-flocked trees, wrapped in jewel bright lights glittered from every direction.
“Christmas in February,” Demi breathed.
She should have expected something like this. Kait loved Christmas. And God knew Alaska was the place to go hog wild with the decorations and lights.
“Christmas 24/7, 365 days a year, if Kait has anything to do with it.” Cosky set Trident’s carrier down next to her and rocked back on his boots, studying his home with an indulgent expression. After a few moments, his voice turned brisk. “I texted her from the bird to let her know we were on the way. I need to talk to Zane. I’ll carry the cat inside in a minute.”
With that, he turned and walked back to the helicopter, the ice crackling beneath his boots.
With a soft sigh, Demi tore her gaze away from the glittering beauty of Kait’s home and looked down at the cat carrier. “I’m sure you’re sick of that kennel, but I’ll let you out soon.”
According to Cosky, Kait already had a litter box, along with Trident’s vet-recommended wet and dry food on hand. When she’d heard of Trident’s inclusion on the trip, Kait hadn’t blinked, hadn’t balked. She simply stepped up to make sure Trident was taken care of.
Behind her, the roar of the helicopter intensified as it took to the sky.
“You’ll love Kait,” she told the cat, before taking a deep breath of mountain air. She held it, savoring the crisp pine scent. “This trip will be good for you. The fresh air will help you heal.”
The smell surrounding her—fresh air, conifer needles, and wood smoke—reminded her of her childhood, of all the weekends and vacations spent hiking and camping with her parents in the Six Rivers, Redwood, and Sequoia national parks. Her mom and dad had loved the outdoors, preferring tents to motels. They immersed themselves in various forests throughout the year. The flashes of memories brought both warmth and sorrow. Even now, sixteen years after their deaths, she still missed them.
She’d often wondered about Kait’s new life. After she hooked up with Cosky, Kait’s life became shrouded in secrecy. Sure, they talked almost daily, and they’d met up often for mini and lengthy vacations. But the locations where they met were always a rendezvous at a beach town, or in New York city. Never at each other’s homes. She hadn’t even known where Kait lived until today.
The amount of secrecy had been weird, even with Kait’s explanation of what had happened to Cosky and his teammates. Would the men still have a price on their heads after three years? It seemed unlikely.