Numbly, Dane looked at Nelva.
White to the lips, she dodged his gaze.
But beyond her, over by the door through which they'd entered, a man who wore a guard's uniform had suddenly appeared and now stood to one side, scanning the index-chamber.
While Dane watched, two more guards joined the first.
Dane crowded close to Nelva. His words came out a raw whisper: "Those guards—are they after me?"
She didn't answer.
Dane's belly knotted. His hands shook.
But he couldn't afford the luxury of cracking. Not now, of all times.
No. The only course open now was to follow desperation's dictates.
Psychopath? Criminal? Kalquoi agent?