Red Dot
The red laser danced like a taunt across my chest.
My breath froze somewhere between panic and instinct. I couldn’t see her face—not fully—but the voice was unmistakably female, smooth and calm, like someone trained to make threats sound like lullabies.
“You were never meant to see that vault, Calla,” she repeated.
“Who sent you?” I asked, keeping my voice low, steady, my eyes scanning the dark room for an exit point.
“That’s the wrong question.”
She moved from the shadows, just enough for the moonlight to catch the glint of a silencer at the end of her gun. She wore a black tactical jacket, gloves, and a cold expression that didn't crack, not even for effect.
“The real question is—what will Cassian do when he sees what’s left of you?”
My heart slammed in my chest.
I took
