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The syringe Vanya used contained a cocktail of pain relief and sleeping draughts, along with something to stop the man’s heart. She stood over the bed, next to Pahyan, as Jaguar closed his eyes and let out in a long sigh, an easy smile on his face. The bedcovers rose, then fell, and moved no more.
Only when she’d checked that there were no signs of life—that the warrior was no longer in pain—did Vanya pull the covers over Jaguar’s head.
“Hope I get to go like that,” Pahyan said.
“Before the pain grows.”
“Yeah.”
They both knew the reality would be different. Vanya had already talked to Pahyan and the rest of her team, told them the basics of Miolar’s plan. She hadn’t sugar-coated their chances of survival.
“He say any more about the Factory?” Pahyan asked, his eyes sti
