Aunt June dropped a smoke device from her sleeve. The room filled with gray. Mom shoved me behind a console. Carter tackled one of the armed men with the kind of speed I did not expect from an admiral. Aunt June shouted something rude and swung the shotgun like a club.
Mom grabbed my wrist.
“Run.”
We ran through the smoke into the hangar.
The Ghostwing aircraft sat in the center, its surface shimmering like heat above asphalt. Men moved around it, shouting as alarms began to blare. The pulse in my head grew stronger.
Lucas.
I stopped.
Not because I wanted to.
Because the aircraft knew
