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Every muscle in my body tensed, and I stared straight ahead. “Yeah…?”

“I talked to him later and I asked him about the co

Closing my eyes, I nodded. Of course, I already knew that. I squeezed my hands into tight balls. I almost told him I knew, but bringing up Blake would really mar the moment. “What about the whole you die, I die thing?”

“What about it?” he responded, eyes on the road. “There isn’t anything we can do about that other than not getting ourselves killed.”

“There’s more to it than that,” I said, watching the rolling white-tipped hills go by. “We’re really joined together, you know. Like, forever…”

“I know,” he said quietly.

There really wasn’t anything I could add to that.

We arrived at the abandoned industrial park near midnight, driving past it first to make sure there were no cars around. There were three buildings clustered together near a field covered in white. One was a squat, one-story brick building and one in the middle was several stories high, large enough to store a jumbo jet.

Daemon pulled behind one of the buildings, parking the SUV between two large sheds with the front facing the only entrance. He turned to me, killing the engine. “I need to get in that building.” He gestured at the tall one. “But you need to stay in the car while I do this. I need eyes on the road and I don’t know what’s waiting in there.”

Fear pinched my stomach. “What if someone is in there? I want to go with you.”

“I can take care of myself. You need to stay in here, where it’s safe.”

“But—”

“No, Kat, stay here. Text me if anyone comes in.” He reached for the door. “Please.”

Given no other choice, I did nothing as Daemon slid out of the car. Twisting in my seat, I watched him disappear around the side of the building. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and faced the front, keeping my eyes trained on the main road.

What if Bethany was in there? Hell, what if Dawsonwas in there? I couldn’t even wrap my brain around that and what it would mean. Everything would change. Rubbing my hands together, I leaned forward and watched the road. My thoughts kept going back to Will. If he was the implant, then I was so screwed. He’d most likely seen me use my abilities, but if he was the implant, then why hadn’t he contacted the DOD immediately?

Something didn’t add up with that theory.

My breath started to make little puffs of clouds in the rapidly cooling interior. Only ten minutes had passed, but it felt like forever. What was Daemon doing in there? Sightseeing?

I shifted, trying to keep warm. Off in the distance, I saw two headlights piercing the dark. My breath held.

Please go by. Please go by.

The vehicle slowed as it neared the entrance to the industrial park. My heart raced as I realized it was a black Expedition.

“Crap.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent Daemon a quick text. Company.

When he didn’t respond and I didn’t see him heading out of the warehouse, I started to get anxious. The Expedition had disappeared from view, most likely parking in the front. I turned in the seat, gripping the leather until my fingers ached.

No Daemon.

I wasn’t about to let fear or his misguided attempt to keep me safe stop me from helping Daemon. Dragging in a cold breath of air, I opened the door and quietly shut it behind me. Keeping to the shadows, I crept to the corner of the building, passing padlocked bay doors. There were no windows, just a steel door I had no hope of getting open after I tried the lock. Above the door, there was something embedded in the brick, round and glossy in the moonlight, but too dark to make out the color. Glancing back at the bay doors, which were perfect for unloading cargo, it also had a round object embedded over the doors.

I crouched at the edge of the building, craning my neck to see around the side. The path was clear. Not quite relieved, I continued around the corner, keeping close to the side. Up ahead, I saw another door. Was that where Daemon had gone? Biting my lip, I crept closer to the entrance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. Holding my breath, I flattened myself against the building as two men dressed in all black came around the front, talking softly. The orange glow of a cigarette flared and then it flickered through the air, fading out when it hit the ground.





I was trapped.

Stark terror forced the air out of my lungs so quickly it left me dizzy. My muscles locked as I turned my head to the side. The taller man—the smoker—looked up. I knew the second he saw me.

“Hey!” Smoker yelled. “Stop right there!”

Like hell. Pushing off the wall, I sprinted away. I made it a couple of feet before he yelled out again. “Stop! Or I’ll shoot!”

I stopped, throwing my hands up. Each breath I took sawed painfully in and out of my lungs. Crap. Crap. Crap.

“Keep your hands up and turn around,” Smoker ordered. “Now.”

Doing as instructed, I pivoted in place. They were a few steps away, sleek black guns drawn and pointed directly at me. They were dressed like paramilitary or something, in full combat gear. Jesus, what had Daemon stumbled upon?

“Just stay right there,” the shorter one said, approaching me cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

I clamped my mouth shut and felt the heady rush of Source pooling in my veins, provoked by fear. Static built under my clothing, raising the tiny hairs on my body. It demanded to be called upon, used. But tapping into it would seriously expose what I was.

“What are you doing here?” the shorter one demanded again, now just a foot away.

“I’m…lost. I was looking for the interstate.”

Smoker glanced at the shorter officer. “Bullshit.”

My heart was pounding so hard I felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, but I kept the Source locked inside. “I’m serious. I was hoping this was, like, a visitor’s center or something. I got off at the wrong exit.”

The closest one lowered the gun by a fraction of an inch. “The highway is several miles from here. You must’ve taken the wrong exit by a long shot.”

I nodded eagerly. “I’m not from around here. And all the roads and signs look the same. Like the towns all sound the same,” I rambled on, playing the dumb girl. “I’m trying to get to Moorefield.”

“She’s lying,” Smoker spat.

Any hope that had sparked in me died in a fiery crash. Smoker came closer, keeping the gun trained on me. With one hand, he reached out and placed his palm against my cheek. His hand smelled of cigarettes and disinfectant.

“See,” the shorter one said, starting to put his gun back into the holster attached to his thigh. “She’s just lost. You’re getting paranoid. Go ahead, honey, get out of here.”

Smoker grunted and grasped my other cheek, ignoring his partner. Something warm and sharp was in his palm. Fear spiked my heart rate. Was it a knife?

“I’m lost. I swear—”

Red-hot, needle-sharp pain streaked across my cheek, slicing down my neck and over my shoulder. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

The pain rushed at me in waves. Blackness inched across my vision, and I doubled over, breaking contact with whatever he held in his hand.

“Christ,” the shorter one said. “You’re right. She’s one of them.”

I dropped to my knees as the pain ebbed, leaving a dull ache throbbing deep in my skin. Gulping in air, I placed my hand against my cheek, expecting to find my skin split open, but it was only warm.

“Told you.” Smoker grasped my arm, yanking me forward. When I lifted my head, he had a gun pressed between my eyes. “What’s in this barrel will do far worse. So you better think carefully before you answer the next question. Who are you?”