“Yes. No. I don’t know,” he repeats. He gives a single shake of his head. “Penumbra is above my pay grade. A well-kept secret among our Generals. The fewer people who know the ins and outs, the less Troika can discover.”

    “So you don’t know how Dior was infected?”

    “All I know is that General Rosalind Oriana left Myriad to meet with Dior and never returned. Word is Rosalind was ambushed by TLs when she stopped in a guard tower on her way home. And she’s not the only General we’ve lost this week. This morning, General Abdul Ibqal visited Javier Diez—Dior’s boyfriend—and like Rosalind, he died during an ambush on the way home.”

    I arch a brow. “You sound skeptical.”

    “I am. If Troika were responsible, they would have taken credit. Maybe gloated. So far, they’ve been silent, as if they have no idea what happened.”

    There’s another option, I suppose; Myriad could have taken out their own Generals.

    Impossible. They wouldn’t...would they?

    “Dior is desperate to escape her contract, Killian. I can’t turn my back on her just because we don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes. If I can help her get to court, I will. I must.” I have to act while I have the opportunity.

    His sigh is heavy. “I knew you’d say that.” His hands travel the ridges of my spine and stop just above my bottom, leaving me tingling with anticipation. The perfect torment. “Be careful who you trust. There’s a spy among you. That’s how we found your location.”

    A spy? “Who in their right mind would agree to live in Troika while remaining loyal to Myriad?”

    “Someone who isn’t in their right mind.”

    Right. “But how would we not know? I mean, we’re all hooked to...” I go quiet as tendrils of dread coil around me. We aren’t all hooked to the Grid, are we? Some Troikans...like my attackers...can unhook to hide their location. “I’ll be careful,” I croak.

    He reaches up to trace his knuckles along my jaw, and I wish, I wish so hard, I could feel him skin-to-skin rather than Shell-to-Shell. His touch is like the wind. I know it’s happening, but I only experience a vibration...like the ghost of a memory. But it’s enough. Today, it’s enough.

    “I should go,” he says, but remains in place.

    Every cell in my body screams No! Stay! But I reply with a soft, “I know.” I flatten my palm on his chest and imagine I feel the echo of his heartbeat through his Shell.

    He utters a bitter laugh. “I’m not ready to leave you. I’ll never be ready.”

    A familiar pang cuts through me. “We’ll see each other again, right?”

    His eyes heat like a thousand suns. “With us, there will always be a next time.”

    Shivers consume me. His words...they are beauty incarnate, poetry and passion. They are hope.

    Before Killian, I wasn’t a romantic girl. I existed with no real purpose, anger directing my actions. He’s changed me for the better.

    The rope attached to his waist jiggles. Scowling, he grabs hold of the center and tugs...and I discover Sloan Aubuchon hog-tied at the end.

    I grab my dagger, a curse brewing in the back of my throat.

    “Behold,” Killian says. “My new partner.”

    His...partner? I swallow bile, suddenly sickened in body and soul. My boyfriend and my killer are teammates. He’s teaching her how to fight, the way he once taught me. Worse, he’s teaching her how to defend herself from me.

    Decisions..nsequences. What did I expect when I picked Troika over Killian? Smooth sailing? No storms along the way?

    She frees her ankles and hands and, with a moan of relief, rips the blindfold from her eyes and the plugs from her ears. Spotting me, she palms a dagger and leaps to her feet. Her narrowed gaze zooms from me to Killian and back again. She’s pale and panting. Dirt streaks her from top to bottom.

    I know it’s wrong of me, but I like seeing her in this condition.

    “If you harm Ten,” Killian says, the menace in his tone almost frightening, “I will hurt you in ways you cannot fathom.”

    Even now, he defends me. My hurt begins to fade.

    A thousand different emotions flicker over her features; shame, remorse and guilt are the front-runners. Finally she returns the blade to its holder. “I’m not going to... I know you won’t believe me but...”

    “Sir Zhi Chen, our Leader, extends his blessing. He’d like you to punish Sloan for her crimes against you.” Killian’s hands fall away from me. “Proceed any way you see fit.”

    I mourn the loss of his touch.

    Sloan’s jaw drops. “Wh-what?”

    I’m tempted to accept, I admit it. But if I hurt her, I’ll be worse than she was—than she is. She lashed out at me, yes, but she never wanted to harm me. I yearn to harm her.

    Desire will not prevail over duty. I, too, sheathe my weapon.

    Her sky blue gaze widens and she points an accusing finger at Killian. “He’s using you. Trying to win your affections so you’ll betray your realm.”

    Killian doesn’t lash out at her but cants his head to the side and studies her more intently, as if he can’t quite understand what just happened.

    “Why are you telling me this?” I ask her. She has no idea he already admitted Myriad has a hidden agenda. Then I shake my head. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t trust you, so your answer is moot.” I placed my faith in her once, and paid the ultimate price. This could be another set up. Pretend to help me now, destroy me later.

    Tearing up, she rubs at the center of her chest. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I loved you. I still love you, despite everything.”