I place my free hand over my heart, moved in a way I would never have expected. A warhorse, unafraid of battle, actually craving it, daring his opponents to fight him, his enemy’s efforts only making him laugh, because he knows he’ll win. “You thought I was brave.”

“And kind. And odd.”

“Hey!”

“You shook me up. The things other assignments valued meant nothing to you. The things I valued meant nothing. Only when I spoke of a past I’d rather not remember did you soften toward me, as if you saw something in me no one else ever had.”

He shook me up, too. He’s still shaking me up. “Do you want to know what I thought about you when we met?”

“Please, Killian, kiss me.”

Ha! “Close. I thought you were the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen...and that I’d better invest in a chastity belt.”

He barks out a laugh, though his good humor doesn’t last long. There’s something going on inside his head.

“I wanted to know more about you, and I was secretly thrilled about our date. I was intrigued by everything about you, from your cocky attitude to your tattoos. There’s a pattern to the designs.”

“Yes,” he says, but offers no more. “One day I’ll tell you about them.”

The device in his arm lights up, but he snags a razor from the console between us—one I didn’t notice before—and runs the blade across his arm, tearing the flesh out of the Shell. He grunts. The light fades...dies as thick, sparkling Lifeblood gushes from the wound.

Fighting past my shock, I place my arm over the wound, applying pressure. He is risking everything for me.

“She threatened my mother,” he says tightly.

“Oh, Killian. I’m sorry. Is there anything you can do to stop her? Wait. Let me rephrase. What can I help you do to stop her?”

He flicks me a glance loaded with surprise. “I need to get inside the Annals. A building heavily guarded. When I know my mother’s new identity, I can protect her.”

I don’t think I believe in Fusion anymore, but I don’t have the heart to tell him his mother is probably gone for good already.

When the hemorrhaging stops, I peer out the window. Palm trees whiz past. The sun is a magnificent ball of fire as it sets in the horizon. Warm, golden rays stroke over me and absorb through my skin.

For the second time, he lifts my hand to his lips, kisses the scars on my knuckles. He’s kissed my knuckles once before, but this time...this time there’s something special about the action and I feel branded deep in my soul.

“You wanted to know more about me,” he says, returning to our conversation. “Here’s the truth, flat out. I’ve pushed you so hard because I don’t want you to end up like me. A failure.”

I frown at him. “When did you fail?”

“Once I was thought to be Fused with a General, too. That’s why I was allowed to train with Archer. That’s why the King would visit with me.”

Dread fills me, but I say, “What happened?”

“I couldn’t complete the final stage of training. The King was disappointed, of course, and he gave me a task meant to redeem me. I was given the name of a human...someone I was supposed to kill.”

The dread becomes tinged with horror. “Murdering an innocent isn’t right, Killian. Your realm needs reform.”

“Then join us and reform us, Ten. That kind of change can be made only from within.”

Ugh. He makes a good point. But what of Troika? They need work, too.

And, wow. When did I become Miss Know It All, as if my way is the best way?

I sigh. “Go on.”

“I was given the name Dior Nichols.”

Oh...zero. “Does Archer know?”

“No. He’d already defected to Troika, and it was well-known she was one of his assignments. Which is why the King wanted me to kill her, I’m sure. I hated Archer, but I saw the way he looked at the girl, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t send her to Many Ends. I turned her against him and signed her to Myriad instead, and while I succeeded, I failed my King. I was banned from his presence and placed under Madame Pearl’s leadership as a Laborer.”

No wonder failure at his job is so abhorrent to him. No wonder he pushes and pushes to win every assignment given to him. He seeks to prove himself worthy of love and respect.

His motive doesn’t excuse his method, but he’s not the boy he used to be. “You’ve learned from past mistakes. You know what’s right and what’s wrong, and you’re taking steps to make up for it through your dealings with me.”

The gaze he throws me reveals shattered eyes. Something inside him is breaking. “How can you say such things to me?” His voice is layered with different degrees of pain.

“Because there are no conditions for the things I feel for you.”

He whips the car to the side of the road. Acting on instinct, I unbuckle and climb over the console to straddle him. He stares up at me with surprise and hope—a hope that breaks what little piece of my heart was still intact.

I brush my nose against his. “Is the night-night drug always in your mouth?”

“Only when I bust the capsule behind my tooth. A capsule I haven’t yet replaced.”

“Good.” I frame his cheeks with my hands and press my lips against his.

He opens immediately and rolls his tongue against mine. I taste sugar and a hint of cinnamon, and I’m instantly addicted. I want more...want to devour. We thrust and parry, and I moan as delicious sensation after delicious sensation pours through me.

It’s a kiss worth every moment of confusion and uncertainty. Worth every sleepless night and tormented day. A kiss capable of restarting a thousand dead hearts. A kiss with the power to soothe the rawest of wounds.

He wraps his arms around me, one hand sinking under my shirt to stroke up my spine, the other flattening on my rear to pull me nearer.

No matter how close I get, I can’t get close enough.

I gasp his name. I comb my fingers through his hair. Soft and silky, the strands make my palms tingle. Those tingles ignite sparks and those sparks swim through my veins, heating everything they encounter, until I’m burning up from the inside out.

“I feel you,” he gasps out. “The heat of you...it’s so good.”

Unable to sit still, I move against him, actually grinding on him. He leans forward, pressing his chest against mine, and my back arches until I accidentally hit the wheel. The horn gives a short but loud blast.

I chuckle. He chuckles. Then the ground beneath the car shakes, and he breaks from me. His hands tremble as he smooths the hair from my cheeks. His eyes are glassy, his pupils so enlarged his golden irises are almost completely eclipsed.

When he manages to catch his breath, he says, “We don’t have time for this. Archer and friends are fighting Pearl, trying to stop her from tracking you. They’ve lost a Conduit, the light in their realm dangerously dim. They are now doubly determined to save and recruit you.”

I’m struck anew by the knowledge that so much happens in the worlds and the realms, so much I can’t see and don’t realize.

“Besides,” he adds, “I don’t want our first time to be in a car.”

We are cramped and anyone can approach the windows, attack us while we’re distracted.