Because the alternative was still upstairs, weak and stubborn and already crawling under my skin in ways I didn’t want to think about.
I heard the code beeping and the side door creak open, the low squeal of the hinge, and footsteps I knew too well. Jamie appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later—alone. No Killian.
Good.
Not that I’d ever put much effort into being the guy who watched out for Jamie. I’d tried, but I’d slipped, and I still harbored guilt for that, but I was too caught up in my own shit back then. Too angry. Too loud. Too busy getting hurt and railed by guys bigger than me so I didn’t hurt them.
But still, some part of me resented Killian for stepping into that role as if it were easy. As though Jamie didn’t need someone solid in me, and maybe I could’ve still been that if I hadn’t been such a fucking mess.
Jamie didn’t pause. He gave me a nod on the way in and headed straight for the counter where I was setting out a bowl and a spoon. I had questions for him. He’d mentioned nine contracts on Lyric. What was that about?
“How is he?” Jamie asked, voice clipped.
“Alive.”
“Can he talk yet?”
I thought about Lyric upstairs, skin too pale, hair damp and stringy. He was clean, small, and fragile. His eyes were wide and defensive. And worse—part of me wanted to reach for him. Braid that mess of hair. Stroke it. Curl him up against my chest as if he were mine to take care of.
Fuck that.
He’s not a fucking pet.
“He needs to eat first,” I said, jaw tight.
Jamie showed me a photo, something that looked as if it had appeared on a phone screen, or maybe a laptop.
K:You did this. It’s stopped loving me. It will kill us all.
“This isin the files he gave us access to, along with a shit ton of other messages. I assume K is Kessler. So why is Lyric talking to him? What does that message mean? What does this K thinkLyricdid? Who is killing us all?”
“After he eats,” I said stubbornly.
“Jesus, Rio.”
I tilted my chin, stubborn and focused, and finally, he rolled his eyes and backed off. Before I went back upstairs, though, I had one question.
“There were contracts on Lyric; he’s being hunted.”
Fear struck quick and hard, leaving my stomach in knots. “Do people know he’shere?” I demanded, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
Jamie shrugged. “The contracts weren’t random. Caleb and I cross-checked timestamps, ran traces, and every single one lined up with a disruption Lyric caused in the system—times he accessed a node, rerouted packets, disabled authorization bridges.”
I didn’t understand half of that shit. “Slow down.”
“Sorry, look, the older contracts weren’t put on the web by Kessler, LyricNight… shit… the AI’s adaptive response engine marked interference and reclassified the threats from Lyric based on evolving behavioral patterns?—”
I shoved my friend. “English, Jamie.”
He huffed in exasperation. “Every time Lyric managed to break through a firewall or crippled a segment of Kessler’s operation, the system Kessler built—LyricNight—flagged Lyric, recalibrated, andissued a fresh bounty—always with escalating rewards and urgency for Lyric to be found alive.” Jamie sighed, rubbing at his jaw. “It’s fucking scary, end of days shit. That thing—it thinks for itself. It’s anticipating interference, protecting itself. And it’s not just Lyric. There were other contracts that were completed, involving people that KessTech wanted out of the way. We’re talking witnesses and jury members, random investors, and even some corner shop guy who was the last bastion against a construction project.”
“Thecomputeris the bad guy?” I asked, just to get it to my level.
“Yeah, likeWar Gamesshit.”
Nope, another reference that passed me by, but the way Jamie said it made me pause. He was wired.
“Okay, stupid question, but can’t we find it and turn it off?”
