Two split off, veering left toward Ria. The other two started a steady march toward Zayn.

  He bent his knees, preparing for the attack. When they did launch, they were damned fast. In a flash of black, two were on him. One powerful kick and Zayn flew backward and slammed into the wall.

  With the air knocked out of him, he rolled to his knees, trying to get to his feet. He caught the glint of metal and scuttled backward. A long blade lodged into the wall in front of him. Zayn turned and sprinted like a galactic Olympian. He dodged around pedestals and while he couldn’t hear a sound, he knew they were coming.

  A quick glance back and he saw Ria fighting with her syndroids. Damn, she was good. She moved with a lethal grace he couldn’t help but admire. She leaped up, swinging her blades. She hit the closest syndroid with brutal force and its head rolled off, hitting the floor. Seconds later, the body dropped to the ground.

  A weight slammed into Zayn from behind.

  He skidded across the floor, rolling onto his back as he did. Before he could move, the syndroid lunged forward and pinned his legs with its torso. It was the one with the hook. It raised its arm, the hook arched above Zayn’s head. He jerked to the side just as the deadly metal slammed into the floor two centimeters from his face. There was so much force behind the blow, chips of tile splintered upward.

  Zayn wished for a weapon. Then he remembered.

  He shoved a hand into his robes. He ripped out the plasma stunner, aimed and fired.

  The syndroid’s blank face distorted where the plasma hit. Then the blue plasma was absorbed by the damn thing, disappearing like it had never existed. Its face rearranged back to a smooth blank surface.

  Fuck. Zayn fired again and again. All the plasma disappeared but the droid looked dazed, slowly shaking its head from side to side. The stunner clicked. Overheated.

  With a vicious swing, Zayn threw the weapon at the droid. He turned, trying to pull out from under the syn. His hands groped across the floor. His fingertips brushed stone.

  The base of a pedestal.

  He gripped the stone column, gave a hard yank. When the heavy pedestal tilted to the side, he offered up a silent thanks to whatever gods were watching.

  He yanked it again, with as much force as he could muster in his awkward position. He swung it at the syndroid.

  The side of the syn’s head buckled in. It lifted its arm, the hook looking obscene in the light. Then it slowly slumped. The hook clunked on the floor.

  Zayn released a long breath.

  Then he looked up and the air rushed out of him.

  The second syndroid was advancing.

  Zayn sat up, lifting the heavy pedestal again. But before he could swing it, the syndroid’s long sword slammed into the stone, shattering it into pieces. As dust and small rocks rained down on him, Zayn shook his head.

  The syndroid lunged forward and that wicked sword pierced Zayn’s shoulder, pinning him to the floor. He cried out. The pain was outrageous.

  The droid lifted its other arm. The second sword lifted high above Zayn, aimed for the center of his forehead.

  He jerked, the blade in his shoulder causing screaming pain.

  Then the tips of two knives burst through the center of the syndroid’s chest. The machine looked down, and Zayn guessed that if it was capable of emotion, its face would show shock.

  Ria wrenched her blades sideways, causing terrible damage to the syn’s chest. Sparks flew and with a grinding drone, the syndroid froze. As it pitched to the side, Ria caught it. Carefully, she leaned forward and pulled the syn’s sword from Zayn’s shoulder.

  Zayn cursed, slapping a hand over the bleeding gash. He managed a grin. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I have more plans for this lean body of yours. Getting slaughtered by a syndroid wasn’t on my agenda.”

  Suddenly hands gripped Ria’s arms, yanking her upward.

  Another syndroid had some out of nowhere.

  The machine’s hands curled around her neck, cutting off her air. She kicked wildly, trying to reach the syn. Her face turned red.

  Zayn scrambled to get to his feet. The syndroid kicked out, catching Zayn in the shoulder. The pain sent him to his knees, nausea rushing through him.

  No. He had to get to Ria.

  He heard her choking sounds. He managed to get upright, blood streaming freely down his left arm. She was still fighting the machine, but it just held her with its superior strength.

  Zayn charged. He took a few running steps and tackled the syndroid. All three of them crashed to the ground. The droid kept its hard grip on Ria’s neck.

  “Let her go, you tin can.” Zayn slammed a fist into the droid’s black face. It didn’t react.

  Standing up, he slammed a boot down on the syndroid. Again. Again.

  It released Ria.

  She rolled away, coughing and gagging. She sucked in deep breaths between coughs.

  The syndroid swiveled its head. Zayn didn’t see any eyes, but he knew the flame-burned son of bitch was looking at him.

  It took a step forward and Zayn took one backward. It strode closer and Zayn kept backing up. He grabbed the bag attached to his waist and tossed it at Ria. It hit at her feet. “Get out of here.”

  She coughed again. “Always…trying to be a hero.” Then she bent over the droid she’d stabbed to save him. Using her blade again she started hacking at the droid. What the hell?

  Then the syndroid stalking him stopped and raised an arm. That whirr again—another damn sound to haunt Zayn’s dreams. If he survived to have any more dreams.

  A stunner appeared at the end of the droid’s arm.

  “Zayn!”

  He looked over to see something flying at him.

  The last droid’s arm. With sword attached.

  Zayn gripped it, held it in front of him like a lance and charged.

  The sword pierced the syndroid’s stomach. Zayn pulled back and stabbed again. The light behind the droid’s eye area dimmed, flickered, and then went black.

  God. Zayn, pushed the sword away. The syndroid fell backward, the sword still lodged in it. Zayn stumbled back a few steps, then spun, looking for Ria.

  Her hair had come loose and was a tangled cloud around her face. Her neck was covered in red marks that would bruise if they couldn’t get to a medscope in time. But she was alive. Gloriously alive.

  He strode toward her and she met him half way. He swept her close, pressing his face into her hair. “Damn, that was close.”

  She nodded, her hands clutching his shoulders.

  “You’re okay?”

  She nodded again, pulled back. “But you’re hurt.” She probed his shoulder wound. “God, Zayn, you’re still bleeding.”

  He watched her tug at his robes until they fell off his body. He just wore cargo trousers and a black T-shirt underneath. She ripped some fabric off the robes and balled it up over his wound.

  “It’s deep.” She wrapped more fabric around his shoulder and arm to hold it all in place.

  “I’ll live. And when we get back to the Infinitas, you can play nurse.” He shot her a hopeful look.

  She shook her head, then walked over to pick up the bag he’d tossed at her. She opened it and they both stared at the still intact treasure they’d come for. “How about we get the hell out of here?”

  “Best idea you’ve had all day.” He glanced at the main door. “Doesn’t look like we can head that way.”

  “I saw some other smaller doorways marked on the map. Back this way.” She led him over to a side wall. The first door opened soundlessly.

  Zayn moved through it, then jerked to a halt.

  “What is it?” she demanded, trying to look around him.

  But as Zayn stared at the cell and the table and chains in the center, all he could see was his worst nightmare.

  ***

  “Zayn?” What was wrong with him?

  Ria watched as he gripped the doorjamb with fingers that turned white. He stared into the interrogation room like all he saw was horror.

  She scanned the empty room, bile rising in her throat. She’d heard the whispers about torture, that the Guild kept master torturers hidden away.

  Zayn took a staggering step forward, his face twisted with pain. “This is the place.”

  The place? Ria frowned. Then it hit her.

  He dropped to his knees, the muscles in his neck straining. “She suffered here. She died here. I killed her and every time I think that maybe I can move past it, it hits me again.” He slammed his hands against the concrete floor.

  Ria circled him and went down on her knees. “I’m here, Zayn. You aren’t alone to deal with this. What happened wasn’t your fault. When are you going to realize that?”

  His gaze was on that metal table, his eyes stark. Then he looked at Ria and frowned. “Vik? I’m sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Ria felt an uncomfortable roll in her stomach. Words didn’t come, only hurt.

  “Shit.” Zayn rubbed his eyes. “Ria. I know you’re Ria.”

  “It’s okay.” Except her heart was breaking. Deep down, he would always see another woman when he looked at her.

  “No.” He gripped her shoulders. “I see you, Ria. I like your style. Your courage. I respect the hell out of you for taking on the Guild and fighting for your freedom. Yes, you look like Vik, but you aren’t her. You’re different.”

  With a sigh, Ria pressed her forehead against his. He’d just had a bad moment, in the place that had haunted him for years. She couldn’t hold his confusion against him.

  “When we get out of here and you’ve dealt with the Guild. You’re coming home with me.” There was an intensity in his eyes. Or maybe desperation. “Maybe we’ll take a vacation first. Ever been to Duna? The water is azure blue and the sands as white as sugar. I’ll teach you to surf, we’ll skinny dip at night and make love in the waves.”

  “Sounds magical.” It did. Ria wanted that. She wanted him. She’d been fighting to find something worthwhile in her life. She now suspected loving this man was that thing.

  “After a rest, we’ll head out on a hunt. There are so many places I want to show you. You’ll make a damn good treasure hunter.”

  She smiled. “I’d like to give it a try.”

  He smiled now. It was a little wobbly but she could see he was getting his confidence back.

  “We have to go now.” She wedged an arm under his shoulder and they helped each other stand. “We have to walk through more rooms like this and God knows what else we’ll see.”

  His jaw tightened. “I can do it.”

  They skirted the table. Zayn paused for a second, his fingers brushing the metal surface. “Goodbye, Viktoria.”

  Ria swallowed the lump in her throat and opened the next door. They passed through another room with multiple chains attached to the walls. Then another with trays full of implements of torture.

  Then they made it into another hallway. This one was stark, blinding white.

  Ria glanced at her Sync. “That way.” She pointed to a set of doors near the end of the hall. There was a strong scent in the hall. One that reminded her of Medical where they got patched up after a mission.

  At the doors, she saw the symbol carved on the front. A small dagger inside a circle. She gasped.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She stroked the symbol. “This is the children’s area.” She swallowed. She’d always wondered what was behind here, her own memories dimmed by time. Could she handle seeing the small children in training, babies learning how to kill? Could she see them and know that right now, she couldn’t help them?

  “We have to go through here,” she said.

  “We’ll come back. Once we’re out of here, we’ll work on finding a way to stop what the Guild does to children.”

  Ria looked up at the man she suspected she was falling in love with. She had no experience with love, but if the jumble of bright feelings and possibilities inside her wasn’t love, she couldn’t imagine anything stronger. “Thank you.”

  This time Zayn pushed the door open.

  Ria walked in and frowned.

  Long rows of large, clear tanks lined the long room. Tubes snaked from the top of the tanks up to the roof, all filled with different colored fluids.

  There were bodies floating in all the tanks.

  She walked to the first tank. A young woman floated in there, her dark hair streaming up in the water like an inky cloud. The tubes entered her body at various places.

  “Where are the kids?” Ria looked at Zayn. “What the hell is this?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Zayn didn’t like this. Not one bit.

  A bad feeling sank over him like a suffocating blanket. He stared at the tanks and the bodies inside. He couldn’t even tell if the occupants were alive.

  He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. He still felt a little shaky from seeing the interrogation room, that small dank place that he hated so much. He felt like he had no solid footing. Then he looked at Ria and everything steadied.

  She pressed a hand to the glass of a tank housing a tall, young man. Suddenly the man’s eyes snapped open. Ria took a hasty step back.

  Zayn moved closer. The man didn’t seem like he could see them. His eyes were a milky white, unaware. His chest was a mass of laser burns.

  “You think he’s dead?” Ria asked.

  “Can’t survive a wound like that, even with a medscope.”

  She looked down the row of tanks. “You think this is some sort of medical research? Maybe the Guild is testing enhancement procedures and drugs.”

  “Maybe.” It still didn’t feel right and every good pilot knew you had to trust your instinct. He spied a computer terminal ahead. The desk had three curved screens suspended above it. Each screen held an image of a flame-haired woman in a tank. He glanced over and saw the woman in the neighboring tank.

  In the first image, the woman looked human. In the second, he could see her facial features were changing, morphing. In the last, she had a tiny row of ridges down the side of her face. He frowned. She looked like she was Pictori, like Ria.

  “Hey! Hey, you can’t be in here.”

  The voice echoed from the center of the lab. Zayn and Ria turned and saw a man hurrying toward them. He wore a white lab coat and had surgical goggles pushed up on his head. The cranial ridge on his forehead and lack of hair pronounced him a Weent. A race known to have some of the quickest minds and highest intelligence rates in the galaxy.

  “Out.” He made a shooing move with his arms. “You need to get out now. I won’t have—”

  Ria reached out and slammed the man against the nearest tank. “I want some answers. Now.”

  The man blinked. “You can’t—”

  “Where are the babies?”

  “B-babies?”

  “Future assassins.”

  “There aren’t any babies.” The doctor focused on her. “You’re Pictori.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re an assassin, then.”

  “Consider me retired. Who are you?”

  The man shifted nervously. “Dr. Wendell D’aarn. I work for the Guild.” He tilted his head. “You were created here.”

  Ria looked over his shoulder at the tank. Zayn felt his gut-deep dread solidify.

  “I just told you, I’m Pictori.”

  D’aarn shook his head. “The Pictori are a species I created.”

  The pride in the man’s voice made Zayn want to slam a fist into the man’s face.

  Ria’s eyes narrowed. “Like I said, I’m Pictori, from the Devil’s Nebula.”

  “Ever met a Pictori outside the Guild?” the doctor asked.

  Ria frowned. Then she slammed the doctor against the tank again. He gave a yelp.

  “Dr. D’aarn,” Zayn said. “I think you better give her those answers now.” Zayn kept his gaze on Ria and her pale face.

  “You’re saying the Guild makes babies in this…lab?” Ria asked.

  D’aarn shook his head. “Gosh, no. They make assassins.”

  Zayn and Ria traded a look. The guy was making no sense.

  “All these people—” he waved a hand at the tanks “—they’re all adults. I’m morphing them into assassins. I manipulate their DNA, wipe their memories, add new ones. Some, whose original identities need to be hidden, are morphed into Pictori. I also add subliminal assassin training. They wake with all the basic skills an assassin needs. They need far less physical training before they’re ready for the field.”

  Zayn watched Ria rub the scar on her arm. “Master Tarr broke my arm in training when I was eight.”

  The doctor shook his head. “A created memory. We found that regenerated subjects are more settled if they remember a childhood…even a fake one. And it decreases memory spill from their…previous existence.”

  Jesus. Zayn didn’t know what to think about this Frankenstein lab.

  Ria let the doctor go and he slumped back against the tank. Zayn grabbed her wrist. “Ria, babe, you okay?” He felt the wild drum of her pulse under his thumb.

  “Previous existence?” she said the words without a single inflection of emotion. One hand moved to rub her ridges.

  “Yes,” D’aarn said. “All these subjects. They’re dead. Empty shells I can regenerate. It’s ingenious technology, even if I do say so myself.”

  Zayn’s horror increased. How could they do that to people? Desecrate dead bodies, steal their lives?

  Ria’s knees buckled and Zayn caught her, sliding an arm around her waist. He wanted her to lean on him but her spine stayed stubbornly stiff.

  “I was…a dead body.”

  “Yes. All assassins start that way. We implant new DNA and cause a rebirth. Regeneration.”

  Her gaze was on the tanks. “You bring people back from the dead.”

  “No.” D’aarn shook his head vehemently. “The host is most definitely dead. We just use the remains to make an entirely new person. The new generation has no memory of their previous incarnation.”

  “Who am I?” Ria said with lethal quietness.

  Zayn tightened his hold on her. “Ria—”

  “I need to know.” She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “We need to know.”