“The algorithm failures.” I let a hint of excitement creep into my voice, as a dealer might who'd stumbled onto valuable information. “He's particularly interested in them. Mentioned something about exploiting the degradation patterns.”
Kreeg studied my face, searching for deception. I'd spent five years perfecting my dealer's mask. It held.
“Corporate espionage.” He released my arm, stepping back. “That tracks with his profile.”
I resisted the urge to rub the bruises already forming. “Is that what you needed?”
“The Administrator has special plans for that one.” Kreeg moved toward the door, then paused. “Something about reclaiming stolen property.”
My blood chilled. Qeth knew. Of course he knew.
“When it happens just before the first shift tomorrow, you don't want to be collateral damage.” Kreeg's smile was thin, predatory. “Find somewhere else to be.”
The door closed behind him. It wasn't a warning from an ally. It was a Conclave informant managing the situation, keeping things clean for his real masters. I counted to thirty, then bolted.
Level 19. My legs shook as I half-ran through the VIP corridor. Suite 217. I’d memorized his room number days ago, just as I memorized every detail about him. The way his jawtightened when he calculated odds. The way his voice dropped an octave when he said my name.
I pressed my palm against his door panel, not caring about the security cameras. Let them see. After tomorrow, it wouldn't matter.
The door opened before I could knock again. Varrick stood there in loose sleep pants and nothing else, his gray skin marked with those green traceries that I'd dreamed about tracing with my tongue. His red eyes went from sleepy to alert in an instant.
“Sabine?”
I pushed past him into the suite, needing to be inside, safe, near him. The door sealed behind us, and I finally let myself breathe.
Then he saw my arm.
The change was instant and primal. His entire body shifted. Muscles coiled, fangs extending fully, a sound emerging from his chest that made every nerve in my body fire at once.
“Who?”
One word, but it carried death in it.
“Kreeg.” My voice came out rougher than intended. The way he looked, lethal and protective and mine, created a current of awareness in the room despite everything. “Listen to me?—”
“He's dead.” Varrick moved toward the door, his body radiating violence. “I'm going to tear his throat out and feed it to him.”
I intercepted him, pressing both hands against his bare chest. His hearts pounded beneath my palms, his skin hot. “Stop. We can use this.”
He looked down at me, eyes blazing red, chest heaving. This close, I could smell him—something warm and spiced, uniquely his, with an undertone that reminded me of electrical storms. My body responded without permission, remembering exactly how that chest felt pressed against mine.
“He marked you.” His hand came up to hover over the bruises, not touching but close enough that I felt the warmth from his palm. “Hurt you.”
“They know about the pre-shift window. It's a trap.” I kept my hands on his chest, feeling his breathing slow marginally. “The Administrator, Qeth, has special plans. Something about reclaiming stolen property.”
That penetrated his fury. “They're expecting us.”
“Yes.” We were pressed together in the narrow space, the charge in the air undeniable. “But they don't know that we know. We can use their trap against them.”
His hands came up to frame my face, thumbs ghosting over my cheekbones with devastating gentleness. The contrast to his earlier rage made my knees weak. “How?”
“Five years I've been mapping that station. Learning every override code during 'maintenance' shifts.” My voice caught as his thumb traced my lower lip. “I know seventeen different routes to the vault. I know which cameras actually work. I know where the guards take their unauthorized breaks.”
“Sabine—”
“Tomorrow night.” I could barely focus with him touching me like this, looking at me with an expression that was both protective and possessive. “We use their trap against them. They'll be watching the obvious route, expecting you to come alone. They won't expect us to know about their ambush.”
His hand slid down to my bruised arm, fingertips barely skating over the marks. The gentleness made me shiver. When he looked back at my face, his expression was raw. Hungry. “I should have been there. Should have protected you.”
