she knew he was repeating the point for the benefit of the others. “I’ll be far better as your backup.”
“As long as you remember you’re backup,” she said, driven by her weakness where he was concerned. “Don’t attempt to manipulate me.”
Everyone else went quiet, while darkness eclipsed the stars in his eyes. She knew he understood what she was saying, understood what she was asking of him. Their past could not color this interaction, not if they were going to do this right.
“IF I’d wanted a doll to manipulate,” Canto all but growled, furious with her for taking one step into trust, then two steps back, “I’d have picked anyone but you. I picked a gladiator for a reason. Anchors need a leader who’ll stand and fight against the biggest predators in the Net.” The Ruling Coalition might not think of themselves that way, but they were all—each and every one—huge powers.
Kaleb was a rumored dual cardinal with fingers in every pie in the Net. Payal and Canto might hold two cardinal designations, but they weren’t dual cardinals. The term was one of art and did not include anchors—because a cardinal A could only access and use their anchor powers within the Substrate.
Outside that, they were reliant on their secondary abilities. The same applied in reverse—their secondary powers were effectively useless to them when they acted as anchors. The two different abilities simply did not interact. There was also the fact that many, many As were so mentally wiped by their anchor duties that they barely utilized their secondary abilities.
During his research into the designation, Canto had run across a very old—and cruel—joke made at the expense of Designation A: What do you call a group of anchors? A waste of cardinals. If he had to guess, he’d say it was an A behind the joke, a person who understood the price they paid to stand as the iron foundation of the Net.
Kaleb, however, if the rumors were true, had no restrictions on his abilities. He could access both cardinal-level telekinetic and telepathic powers at the same time—and at any point he wanted. The man could level cities and erase minds with the ease of a wave crashing to shore and wiping the sand clean.
Aden Kai was a huge psychic power in his own right, but he also had the might of the entire Arrow Squad behind him. The specialist black-ops squad was composed of soldiers deadly and relentless.
Ivy Jane Zen was the softest of the group, but she brought with her the Empathic Collective—who were backed by the Arrow Squad.
Nikita Duncan was a former Councilor with knowledge of more secrets than almost anyone else in the Net; she was also a massive financial powerhouse.
Anthony Kyriakus hadn’t been a Councilor for long prior to the Council’s collapse, but his power came from another source altogether—he headed the strongest clan of foreseers in the world. PsyClan NightStar knew more about the future than was wise or sane.
Canto’s anchors needed a person of equal weight and steel to stand against that wall of power. To be a fighter who would not flinch, would not back away, would not stop until they listened to her.
Payal gave him a measuring glance that betrayed nothing of what they were to each other before she looked around at the group. “You all feel emotion.”
“So do you,” Suriana whispered back, this anchor who’d been terrified of Canto’s approach yet had stepped up. “You’re an anchor. You can’t be immune to everything that’s happened, all the emotions the Es are pumping into the Net. It was powerful even when they were in a forced sleep. Now that they’re awake, there’s no way to avoid their colors in the river that is the Net.”
Suriana had spoken in a rapid burst, as if she’d had to psych herself up to get out the words. She collapsed in the aftermath, her shoulders hunching inward.
Someone hurt her. Cold, crisp Payal in his mind.
His parched cells drank in the psychic touch. Yes. I haven’t figured out who yet, but I will.
Payal gave him the slightest nod. Because she’d committed, and when Payal committed, she gave it her all. Suriana was one of hers now.
“I always felt something.” Ager’s voice was a bit croaky but not tired—as if this gathering had given them a new lease on life. “I don’t know if it was because I was raised around people who were alive prior to Silence, but I’ve felt tendrils of emotion in the