I sink back into my chair and press my palms flat against the table. I’ve been training for this mission for months, building the Wren Hayes identity and studying everything we know about the Kyzer family. The thought of walking away now, of letting someone else take this opportunity, makes my chest tighten with frustration. But the thought of merging with a symbiote, of having someone inside my head reading every thought and memory terrifies me in ways I can’t fully articulate.
“At least meet him,” Holt says. “Give him a chance. If you can’t work with him after that, we’ll discuss other options.”
We both know there are no other options. If I refuse the bodyguard, the mission ends, and all the work I’ve put into becoming Wren Hayes will be wasted. Someone else will go undercover eventually, probably someone with less experience, and they will blow it.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Zeth Thessian. He’ll be here in an hour.”
An hour. Sixty minutes before I meet the symbiote who will merge with my body and live inside my skin. I have to resist the urge to stand up and walk out of this room and keep walking until I’m far away from this building, and this mission, and this impossible choice.
But I don’t walk away. I just nod.
“I’ll meet him,” I say.
Holt’s shoulders relax, like he was braced for more of a fight.
“Good. I’ll leave you to prepare.”
He gathers the folders from the table and heads for the door, and then I’m alone in the conference room with the photos of Kyzer family members staring down at me from the board. I recognize most of them from the files I’ve memorized. Street dealers, enforcers, mid-level operators. And there, in the middle of the board, is Garrett Blanc.
The hitman. The man who fixes problems for the Kyzers. His photo shows a lean face with sharp features and a scar cutting through his left cheek. According to our intelligence, he’s the one who handles interrogations and eliminations. If my cover is blown, Garrett Blanc will probably be the last person I see.
I tear my eyes away from his photo and look at the question marks at the top of the board, the empty spaces where leadership should be. That’s why I’m doing this. That’s why the mission matters. We need to identify the people running the organization, gather evidence that will hold up in court, and take down the entire network before they can rebuild.
And to do that, I need to survive long enough to get inside and earn their trust.
Which means I need the bodyguard.
Which means I need to merge with the symbiote Captain Holt chose for me.
The thought makes me shiver. A symbiote will be inside my body, spread through my nervous system, woven into my muscles and my mind. He’ll have access to everything. Every thought, every memory, every feeling I’ve ever tried to keep private. There will be no walls, no distance, no way to hide any part of myself.
And there are parts of myself I’ve spent my entire adult life keeping hidden.
The desires I’ve never been able to admit out loud. The needs that made every relationship I’ve ever tried fall apart because no one could handle what I wanted. The fantasies I’ve buried sodeep I barely let myself acknowledge them anymore. All of it will be exposed the moment he merges with me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
I press my fingers against my temples and try to breathe slowly. Maybe I can control my thoughts. Maybe I can keep my mind focused on the mission and avoid thinking about anything personal. Maybe if I’m careful enough, I can maintain some kind of privacy even while merged.
But I know that’s not how it works. I’ve read the literature on symbiotes, the studies on merging and neural connections. When a symbiote integrates with a host’s nervous system, they have complete access. Trying to control my thoughts would be like trying to control my heartbeat. Possible in theory, but not sustainable, and the moment my focus slips, everything I’ve been suppressing will surface.
He’ll see it all. He’ll know what I want, what I need, what I’ve spent years pretending I don’t crave. And then he’ll look at me differently, the way everyone else has when they’ve gotten close enough to see the truth.
I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. This is insane. Letting a stranger into my head, giving him access to my most private thoughts, trusting him with secrets I haven’t trusted anyone with in years. It goes against every instinct I have, every wall I’ve built to protect myself.
But I don’t have a choice.
The mission is too important, and the Kyzer family is too dangerous. And if I walk away now, someone else will take the risk, and they might not come back.
I can do this. I’ve done harder things. I’ve gone undercover in dangerous situations before, maintained my cover under interrogation, survived a year in prison to make my criminal record authentic. I can handle one symbiote bodyguard, even if it means exposing parts of myself I’d rather keep hidden.
I just have to meet him first. See what he’s like. Maybe he’ll be professional enough to ignore whatever personal thoughts he picks up from me. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I’m imagining.
But even as I try to convince myself, I know I’m lying.
It will be exactly as bad as I’m imagining, because the last thing I need is someone in my head reading all my hidden, shameful, unfulfilled thoughts.
I can’t believe I’m even considering such madness.
