Excerpt:
Darkness
pressed against her eyes. The air carried no warmth, only a damp cold that
burrowed into her marrow. The metallic taste on her tongue sharpened. Air
scraped colder against her throat. Every nerve screamed awake as the chemical
fog bled out of her veins. It was easy to fend off the hazy pull of delirium
when it felt like she was sitting in an ice box. Frigid salty air wrapped her
in an arctic grip, numbing her body. The sound of the seas never betrayed its
location, offering no clues as to her whereabouts until the blackout hood was
lifted.
Her
surroundings winked awake, blurring slowly into focus. Faint traces of soot and
aged timber amplified the cabin’s solitude. As her vision sharpened, the first
thing she saw was the rugged glaciers looming beyond the drafty windows. Snow
consumed the landscape, a frozen expanse as thick as packed sugar, burying the
world beneath at least twenty inches of wintery silence. At a distance, she
could hear how the ocean roiled, a wild, restless beast, while the bitter
subzero terrain stretched in stark harmony with the gray horizon.
Groggy,
her eyes roamed in search of Zeus, panic setting in, forcing her heart to
quicken until she spotted him across the room in a dark corner. Her head felt
like a thousand-pound weight pressed down on her skull, each pulse of pain a
hammer striking her temples. She found herself passed out on a lounger that
looked to be a decade old—at least her kidnappers, or rather, her new boss—had
the courtesy to leave her somewhere relatively comfortable. At the sound of her
steps, Zeus lifted his head, tail thumping against the rickety wooden
floorboards, though not quite making it to his feet.
It
looked like she wasn’t the only one trying to shake herself out of the cocktail
she’d been injected with, as Zeus tried to drag himself up. She knelt beside
him and massaged his legs, trying to coax circulation back into his limbs.
After a few minutes, Zeus soldiered to his feet, the kneading doing the trick.
Von exhaled, tension ebbing at the reassuring presence of her loyal companion.
She ambled back to the kitchen, taking in her surroundings while Zeus kept time
with her steps. A thin film of dust coated the kitchen counters and cupboards,
telling her that time had been the lonely cabin’s sole friend for a long while.
She
rooted around, discovering there were enough dishes for one person, and the
fridge had been stocked with salads and fruit. At least her mysterious employer
had the decency to respect her food preferences. They even left a bowl of dried
dog food and water for Zeus. How thoughtful. She smirked at their attention to
detail as she headed to the bedroom—and then she saw it.
Sitting
dead center on the bed, the phone was waiting for her.
Sleek,
black, and unbranded—just a smooth slab of technology with no markings or
logos, nothing to indicate who made it. While it appeared to be just another
typical high-end smartphone, Von knew better. This wasn’t an ordinary device.
It was a leash. She picked it up. Lighter than she expected. No buttons, no
ports, no removable SIM card. Completely sealed. The kind of hardware designed
to be untouchable, tamper-proof. Not to be trusted. The screen stayed dark for
a ten-count before flickering to life, awakened by a simple touch. The
interface was equal parts minimalist and sterile.
Nothing
personal. No apps. No browser. Just a lone notification, already there.
“Welcome
to Black Nova.”
She
flipped it in her hand, examining it. There wasn’t even a password prompt,
fingerprint, or facial recognition scan. Von wasn’t logging in. She was already
in—immediate access like it knew her. Then she remembered where she’d seen one
before: Jefferson Pierce. Former Marine-turned-hacker, an asset for the FBI.
Asset. The word twisted in her stomach, acidic and biting. She recalled the
words—“federal asset”—before her world went black. Right before they took her.
“Silent
Circle—” Jefferson had called it.
“A
what?” She recalled how her brows had knitted together, confused over the
unfamiliar phone. “Never heard of it.”
“Military-grade.
Locked down tight. End-to-end encrypted calls and messages.”
“Sounds
a bit paranoid,” Von had said.
“For
what I do—I gotta be. Safest, most private phone out on the market.
She
recognized it now. Its black matte finish and elegant, no-nonsense style. But
it wasn’t hers—it was theirs. A direct line to the people who had dragged her
into this. Her permission not needed. Her choices, her next movements, her next
breath would be dictated, assigned. The second she thought this, the phone
rang. She stared at it, letting it ring three times before quietly answering.
“You’re
awake. Good. Commander Lucian Cain here, in case your memory needs a little
reminder,” a calm, authoritative voice began. “Let’s see if we didn’t make a
mistake bringing you into the fold.”
“Where
the hell am I?”
“Kodiak
Island.”
“Fucking
Alaska?”
“Impressed
you know your geography—most people don’t know where Kodiak Island is,” Cain
said. “Before we officially begin, you must complete our test.”
“And
if I fail?”
“Don’t
think failure’s in your DNA,” he said, then switched to German,
“Schlangenfrau.”
She
hadn’t intended to assume the title of the Serpent Woman, not before the brutal
attack that dragged her to the edge of death. Her guts shredded, body mutilated
and left infertile, stripped of the capacity to bear life. A monstrous
snake-like crimson keloid scar now etched its path along her abdomen, sewn back
up like an object in a sterile lab—efficiently reconstructed like a modern
Frankenstein experiment, an uncanny patchwork that left her hollow.
Von
Schlange—Schlangenfrau—the Serpent Woman had become her signature.
.jpg)
.jpg)