Untamed (66 page)

Two guards wearing black suits and earpieces approach me as I walk toward the open hangar door.

“Excuse me, miss,” they say. “Do you have the—”

“Flyer?” I ask, pulling it from my bag.

But they’ve already seen my face, and they know who I am.

“Sorry, Ms. Marino,” they both diffidently say in unison. They cast quick, nervous glances at each other.

“It’s okay,” I tell them, smiling.

“Just doing our jobs.”

“Come on, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I won’t bite. Where’s Duncan? I need to speak to him.”

“There’s a closed-off area down in the back,” the guard on the left informs me. He’s got an accent I can’t place. Dad always liked to hire new immigrants; he says they’re easier to control. “There’s a guard outside, too.”

“Okay,” I say, nodding. “Thank you.”

“Ms. Marino,” the guard says, stepping in front of me when I move to enter the hangar.

“Yes?”

He hesitates, seems to be trying to figure out the most diplomatic words to use. Eventually, he just spits it out.

“Are you carrying a weapon?” He holds out a numbered tag. The number reads eighty-six. “If you don’t mind.”

“No,” I tell him. I open my bag, let him peer inside. “Satisfied?”

“Do you mind if I look inside myself, Ms. Marino?”

I sigh, but give him my whole bag. He rummages through it quickly, before nodding and giving it back to me.

“I’m really sorry, but—”