“If I can get the exact compound sheet, I might be able to formulate a neutralizing wash for the rest of the inventory.”

Killian shook his head, his boots shifting on the damp floorboards.

“It is too dangerous, Aries,” Killian said.

“The power cut was not an accident.”

“We are blind here, and the harbor master is no longer answering his radio.”

“We do not use the main gates,” Aries said.

“We use the utility tunnel under the dry dock.”

He looked at me, his gaze lingering on my wet hair and the heavy coat clinging to my shoulders.

“Can you walk, Sienna?” he asked.

“I can walk,” I said.

“But I am keeping my shears.”

I slipped the heavy metal tailoring shears into the deep pocket of my coat.

The cold weight of the steel against my thigh was the only comforting thing in the room.

Killian drew his weapon, a matte-black semi-automatic that seemed to swallow what little light remained.

“I will lead,” Killian said.

“Keep five paces behind me.”

He unlocked the side door of the boathouse.