DALTON POV
I took one of my little new toys from the backpack Harper had been hauling all the way here.
“This one’ll see what we can’t,” I murmured, thumbing the switch.
The device hummed alive, its tiny screen lighting up in green. It was tuned to catch the hum of electric life — alarms, wires, trip sensors — and paint them as little ghosts on the display. All I had to do was point and sweep, and it would whisper back the secrets this place didn’t want to give.
A blip appeared dead ahead. Small, steady, right at the cave’s mouth.
Pressure sensor. I’d bet my left fang on it.
I kept moving the scanner, slow and low, hunting. Three more dots popped up on the display, like land mines on a soldier’s map. And then two camera icons in the upper corners of my screen, invisible to the naked
