end goal enough to bomb them.
I sit up, fighting the dizziness that followed me out of the realm. Cars whiz past our SUV. The sun is in the process of setting, which means I slept—and dirt-napped—another day away.
“I’m sending a message to Madame Bennett,” he says, typing into his arm. “Telling her you’re very close to signing with us.”
“But—”
“It should buy you a little time. If the ones who want you dead are from Myriad. If not, and word of this gets out, Troika will strike again and strike harder.”
I disagree. A sneak attack isn’t Troika’s style.
Know them so well, do I?
No, but I know Archer and Deacon. I know their laws mean something to them. I know how precious life is to them. “I don’t want you to lie for me, Killian.”
He stops typing and lowers his head toward mine, the scent of peat smoke and heather thick between us, heady and intoxicating, making me shiver. “I’m not. I do think you’ll sign with us. Why wouldn’t you? You’ll have a place of honor, you’ll be adored by the citizens...and you’ll be one of mine.”
I gulp.
“If that doesn’t convince you—I hope that convinces you—just remember the horrors awaiting you in Many Ends.”
Like I’ll ever forget. “I’m rolling the dice on this.” At least for a little while longer. If I really am a tipping factor of the war, backing the right people—the ones I’ll have to live with—is more important than ever.
“You make protecting you an almost impossible task, lass.”
“Don’t protect me, then. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” He cups my cheeks again, his grip stronger, his thumbs caressing. “It’s a sad way to live, and I don’t want that for you.”
I curl my fingers around his wrists, holding him in place. “How do you know it’s sad? You have Elena and Charles.”
“They report directly to Madame Bennett. I’m on my own and have been since Archer left.”
I slide my hands up his arms and cup his cheeks. “We’ll look out for each other, then.”
As he holds my gaze, something shifts in our relationship. I don’t know what. I’ve never experienced anything like this. But I feel the change deep, deep inside. I think he does, too, and it throws him.
He pulls back, severing contact. “Let’s get back on the road. Time is our enemy.”
In more ways than one. “Agreed.” I’m not worried about Archer. I know he’ll find me. He always does.
Killian exits the car, walks to my door and, his motions jerky, “helps” me out and leads me to the front passenger seat. I buckle in as he takes his place behind the wheel.
We sit in silence...silence that continues as we pass a group of picketers outside a virtual-reality tour facility owned by Myriad. Though there are at least fifty people, and each of them carries a sign, there are two slogans. One reads The Many Are Doomed! The other reads Your Might Isn’t Right!
Their efforts are wasted. They aren’t going to convince anyone they’re a better choice this way. If I were part of Troika, I’d—
What? Try to change this, definitely. But how? I’ve never really been part of something bigger than myself. Never been on a team or put the good of many over the good of, well, me.
“Are you hungry?” Killian asks me, shattering the quiet.
“Starved, actually.”
He exits the highway and turns into a burger joint and inches along the drive-through line. He orders a hamburger and fries, and the girl who collects his cash gasps.
“Killian.” Her eyes go wide with a combination of shock, hope and anger. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
He stiffens, stares straight ahead.
“How are you?” She looks to me for a moment then yanks her gaze back to Killian. “Who’s the girl?”
Finally he deigns to glance in her direction. “Our food?”
Oh, wow. He’s cold.
The color drains from her face. She trembles as she hands him a bag with grease stains on the bottom. He accepts and drives on.
“Your kindness brought a tear to my eye,” I say drily. “Is that what’s in store for me?”
“I was cruel to be kind.” His fingers clench on the wheel. “And I don’t know what’s in store for you. I’m in never-before-explored terrain.”
To hide my own trembling, I dig out the burger. “She was once your target, right?”
“You mean assignment. And yes, she was.”
“Did she know you were a Laborer?”
“No.”
“And yet you still managed to sign her.”
“I’m that good.”
His favorite