The owner must have used the money for other purposes. I wonder how that will be dealt with.

    Not important right now. Maybe Javier will wake in a good mood if he’s on the bed instead of the floor? Since my Shell is stronger than a human body, I have no trouble lifting him onto one of the twin beds. By the time I straighten, however, I’m trembling.

    Weakened by Penumbra?

    I back away from him. At the window, I stand between the curtains, letting golden rays of sunlight strengthen me.

    Five minutes stretches into ten. I perch at the end of the vacant bed. Amid the silence, Lina’s newest song plays through my mind. One fox in the henhouse. In two days, he’ll try to eat his mouse. Three, yes, three warnings will come. By four five six, you’ll be glum. Look, look, look, for the seven. Eight, nine, Ten is in heaven...

    Could Javier be the fox? He’s the closest thing to an Abrogate, after all.

    What warnings will sound, and why will I be glum? What is the seven?

    My brain must be fried, because I’m stumped.

    Finally Javier arches his back, stretching his arms over his head. My heart pounds a wild beat as he blinks open his eyes.

    When he sees me, he jolts upright and frowns. “Who are you?” His gaze darts through the room. “Where are we?”

    Let the games begin.

    “I’m Ten, your Troikan Laborer. As to our location... I suspect we’re in a human petri dish.”

    He rubs the palms of his hands into his eyes. “I told the last guy I want nothing to do with your realm.”

    “And I forgive you,” I say, batting my lashes at him. “I’m sure you didn’t mean it. Otherwise you would have already signed with Myriad.”

    “Wrong. I like to keep my options open.”

    “So I hear.”

    He eases onto the pillows and pats the spot next to him. “You want to stay and talk about where I’ll live in the Unending, you’ll have to get naked.”

    Do women actually find him charming?

    I’m not shy—how could I be? During my year in Prynne, cameras watched me every second of every day, even while I showered. Guards, who were allowed to view the feed, often propositioned me.

    “No thanks. I’m dating Killian. You remember him, right? The guy who popped you in the face.”

    “So what?” Another pat. “You and I can still be...friendly.”

    Irritation flares. “You are dating Dior Nichols.”

    At last he backs down. “Is she here?”

    “Nope. Sorry. But she’s safe.”

    He throws his legs over the edge of the bed and sits up. He’s shirtless, his knuckles cracked and scabbed. “Take me to her. I want to see her.”

    A buzz in the Grid gives me pause. “Not yet,” I say. I’m supposed to keep the couple apart?

    He glares at me, probably trying to decide how to proceed. The black veins under his skin are thicker than Dior’s, and even spill into his eyes. “How did I get here?”

    “I carried you.” The truth without revealing more than he needs to know.

    He looks me over and barks out a laugh. “Yeah. Right.”

    I’m tempted to give him a demonstration. Possible Abrogate, remember? “Look. Dior is in trouble. And so are you.”

    In an instant, he sobers. “Is that a threat?” His voice lashes like a whip.

    He doesn’t give me a chance to respond but launches a surprise attack, lunging at me, pushing me to my back and pinning me to the mattress. I’m not afraid, but I won’t be manhandled, either. I work my legs between us and shove with enough force to send him flying onto the other bed.

    I hop to my feet, my knees close to buckling. Zero! Weakened again. I study him and realize he’s trembling, too. He’s not immune to my Light.

    We face off. His gaze spits fire at me.

    “If you’ve harmed a single hair on Dior’s head—”

    Oh, now he cares about having a girlfriend? “I would never harm her.” But, uh, considering I’ve done so—twice—I rush to add, “Not purposely.”

    He pops his jaw. “I’ve been told your realm is encouraging her go to court. If that’s true, you’re not saving her, you’re endangering her. According to my ML, most people lose.”

    Well played, Killian. Well played. He erected roadblocks just in case I got my hands on Javier.

    He’s not done. “Dior’s Firstlife and Everlife will be worse when she loses.”

    When, he said. Not if. “Great risk, great reward. She’s sick, and so are you. You’ve both been infected with Penumbra, a disease—”

    He shakes his head. “No.”

    “Yes.”

    “No. I’m healthy.”

    “You might feel that way now, but—”

    “I’m healthy,” he insists. “So is she.”

    And the award for most stubborn guy in the Land of the Harvest goes to...

    Is this how I came across to Archer? How I come across to Killian and Levi? Yeah, probably. So frustrating! It’s a miracle I haven’t been stabbed.

    Okay. I can handle this one of two ways. The hard way, trying to reason with him, or the harder way, touching him and proving he’s filled with darkness.

    What the heck? I’ll take my own advice. Great risk, great reward.

    I close in on him. He stiffens, as if he expects me to throw a punch. Not giving myself time to change my mind—and gearing for a kick of pain—I reach out and flatten my hand on his check. Skin-to-skin contact.