Before—just days ago—that thought would have terrified me.
The idea of condemning someone to death.
Of being the reason someone stopped breathing.
Of having that blood on my hands, even indirectly.
I would have felt guilty.
Sad.
Nervous about the inhumanity of that decision.
But now?
Now, I felt nothing but cold, crystalline determination.
They tried to kill me.
They photographed me.
They violated everything.
Fuck them. You’ll die before I will.
Sucking on the sweet lollipop, I turned my view to the massive floor to ceiling window behind the Fangs.
Outside, the sun was setting, and it wasn’t gentle.
It bled a slow spill of molten gold across the horizon, leaking over the massive Japanese island like a wound opening.
The light hit the water first.
Then it touched the Scales’ villas scattered across the hills—warm boxes of light where families lived under the Dragon’s protection.
I watched mothers calling their children inside and small bodies running to them with their sandals flashing.
I spotted tons of armed men heading home with their shoulders heavy from the day’s work.
Doorways glowed and then closed one by one.
Shadows lengthened across rooftops.
The sea turned from gold to bruised purple.
The sky dimmed as darkness crept in.
I blinked, pulling myself back from the window.
Back to the room.
Back to the table and the men waiting for orders.
Reo's voice sliced through the silence. “Our hackers intercepted the messages before they reached the Fox. He doesn't know anything. But the spies will realize something's wrong when they don't get a response. Soon. And when they do, they'll act on their own.”
Reo placed both hands on the table and leaned forward. “We have less than twenty-four hours to find the spies. All of them.”
His eyes moved across the room—the Fangs, the Claws, Kenji, Hiro. Then they landed on me. “And. . .Nyomi is going to help us hunt them down.”
