Keir and Askel heard her scream. The scream had them scrambling to find her. But Akira was gone. Only a pile of documents remained where she had stood.

Akira

Akira shook with cold. She wasn’t dressed for the cold. Her coat had also been left behind when the stranger had heard Keir and her brother scrambling to find her. Akira shivered again.

“You know I wouldn’t have minded this so much if you’d let me get my coat, bastard,” she mumbled through chattering teeth.

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The man who’d spirited her from the archive room turned to glare at her.

“You may not feel the cold but I most certainly do,” she snapped returning his glare with one of her own. “If you want me to die then by all means keep me out here. I’ll die of exposure or hypothermia long before we get to whereever it is you’re taking me.”

“Christ woman,” the man groaned. “You will be the death of me.”

“Actually, you will be the death of me if you don’t take me somewhere warm NOW,” Akira corrected with a sweet but deadly smile.

“Jesus, you are more like her than I bargained for,” the man told her.

“You’re an idiot,” she told him simply. “I am Akira-Mavi Asena Eames.”

“Fuck,” was all her kidnapper said.