Page 91 of Dark Princess Ascending

"Teams One and Two, prepare for a simultaneous breach. Backup teams, move into positions." Remembering Onegus's directive about collectingvermin to bring to the keep, Peter took a deep breath. "As much as I want to kill everyone in there, we need some alive for questioning."

The fate of their broader mission to destroy these networks would have to take second place to saving the children currently suffering inside that house, and Peter knew it would cost them, but some lines couldn't be crossed.

Some crimes couldn't be observed and documented for later action.

Sometimes, you had to be the shield that stood between innocents and monsters, whatever the cost.

"All teams," he said. "Prepare to move on my mark."

53

DROVA

Lyall set up the parabolic microphone, carefully aligning the dish toward the basement window of the target house.

Drova leaned forward in her seat as Lyall adjusted the sound, bringing the basement conversation into sharp focus. Two male voices came through clearly, speaking in a harsh, guttural language she didn't recognize. It reminded her a little of Kra-ell, and she caught a word here and there, but it still didn't make any sense to her.

She looked at Lyall, who was turning red as a beet. "What language are they speaking?"

Lyall's fingers tightened on the controls. "Filthy Doomers," he muttered. "That's their dialect—a bastardized form of the gods' old language. Not many still speak it, but I learned it a long time ago, and I know enough to understand the gist of what’s being said."

"What are they saying?" Drova asked, noting the angry shade of his skin and the hard line of his jaw.

"Nothing I care to repeat." His jaw clenched. "They're discussing their 'entertainment' for the evening."

The cruel laughter that filtered through needed no translation, and neither did the whimper that followed it. Drova's fangs lengthened at the sound. Prey. These creatures were prey, and they were right there, so close that she could tear them apart with her fangs, suck out their blood until there was nothing left in their rotting carcasses and spit it on the ground because it was too vile to consume.

Lyall tapped his earpiece once. "Peter, we have confirmed Doomers in the basement. At least two of them."

"Location?" Peter's voice came through their comms, although his question was directed at Alfie's team.

"My bet is that they are the two near the eastern basement window," Alfie said. "There are more monsters in there, though. I guess those are theguests."

"We could take them out with an RPG," Drova suggested. "Clean shot through the basement window."

Lyall regarded her with a raised brow. "There are innocents in there. We can't just throw a grenade inside."

"That's right." Peter's voice came through thecomm. "We can't storm the place either because the Doomers will use the children as human shields."

Drova's fangs itched as more laughter came through the audio. She could almost taste their blood and could imagine the satisfying crunch of bone beneath her hands as she twisted their heads off, but she had better tools at her disposal.

"Use me," she said. "Get me a loudspeaker, and I'll compel everyone in that house to walk out with their hands up."

"No loudspeaker equipment in the van," Lyall said. "Why didn't I think of bringing a damn loudspeaker?"

"Don't you have something in the van you can use?" Peter asked. "But it has to be very loud."

"I don't. I can probably rig up something, but it will take too long."

"What about the guards' radio network?" Alfie's voice came through. "If we grab one of their transmitters, Drova could command them all at once."

"The Doomers might not be on the network," Peter said after a moment. "We need to get her inside somehow."

Drova's pulse quickened at those words.

Finally.

She could already imagine tearing into her prey. "I can compel them to stop breathing," she offered, running her tongue over her extended fangs.