“Hers,” Knox said without hesitation. “Let them go—”
“I’m not negotiating with you,” Ava said without looking away from Nina. She approached a second mercenary and drew his knife as well, and the knot in the pit of Nina’s stomach turned to ice. “You’ll fight. The rules are simple. The winner saves the lives of their people.”
It could have been a bluff, a strategic gamble carefully calculated to pay off. At one time, Nina would have sworn it had to be. Ava wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of acquiring Nina if she planned to leave her fate up to chance.
But nothing about that certainty would guarantee Knox’s safety. And, honestly, Nina couldn’t really be sure about her own. Not with that uncomfortable fire burning in her sister’s eyes.
Something had changed Ava, something so profound and horrible that Nina barely recognized her—but maybe Nina could use that. After all, she wasn’t the same idealistic kid Ava had known, either. There was a way out of this, despite her sister’s insistence that Nina couldn’t save everyone.
She just had to find it.
Being unbound and free to move around was a start. “I accept.”
“I don’t,” Knox snarled, even as one of the mercenaries hauled him to his feet. “Fuck this, I’m not fighting you.”
“Then she’ll win,” Ava replied, tossing both knives to the floor in the middle of the empty space. “Since you did bring Nina to me, I’ll give you one concession. The girl is safe. A biochem hacker with knowledge of TechCorps infrastructure is too valuable to waste. The rest of your men? Well, given your current state of deterioration, it might be a mercy to put them down.”
One of the mercenaries sliced through the zip tie binding Nina’s wrists. Her body itched to move, to fight. To whirl around before he could react, snatch his sidearm, and end this whole stupid standoff.
Instead, she took a deep breath and rubbed her wrists as she rose. Two knives. Even if she threw them true and both found their marks, there would be a dozen mercenaries left to retaliate, plus Ava.
So she picked up one knife and kicked the other over to where Knox stood, his agonized gaze flitting over his men. The knife handle thudded against his boot, and he stared down at it. “No. No, Nina.”
“Pick up the knife, Knox.”
He scowled at her, swooped down, and came back up with the knife gripped in one hand. “This is insanity.”
“Maybe.” She circled him slowly. Her mind hurtled through the variables and possibilities at light speed, but she kept coming up empty. “But you have to do it. For your men.”
“My men and I already had this conversation,” he told her in a tight voice, pivoting slowly to watch her. “We’re not sacrificing your lives for ours.”
If he kept shutting her down, Ava would quickly realize she wasn’t going to get the fight she wanted—and Nina would be out of time to think. So she darted forward, slashing her blade lightly across Knox’s cheek.
As he hissed and recoiled, she danced back, adjusting her grip on the knife’s hilt. “Focus, Captain.”
His gaze locked with hers for just a moment. His jaw tightened. When he lashed out, it was with only a fraction of the speed she knew he possessed. Even that was still fast. His knife slashed toward her arm in a blur, and she whirled out of the way, unharmed.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” she admonished.
He snarled and lunged again. Nina sliced the front of his T-shirt this time, carefully controlling the force and angle of the blade so that it didn’t bite into the skin beneath the cloth.
Ava watched, frowning. Nina could practically hear her voice, mildly disgusted, telling her to get on with things. She had Knox at a disadvantage already—
Just like that, the variables and possibilities clicked into place, and Nina knew what to do. It would be tricky. Ava could say no. Worse, it could make her suspicious. She could judge the risk too great. But she was running out of time and options.
Nina had to take the chance, and she had to make this good.
She worked up her best look of indignation—which wasn’t difficult to do at this point—flipped her knife over in her hand, and gestured to Knox with the handle. “I’m not doing this. He’s a mess—he can’t even block or parry, much less move fast enough to strike. It’s unfair to fight him while he’s in this condition.