Boston waited, six hours and a lifetime away. Somewhere in that city, Gabriel might be rebuilding his empire. Creating more broken dolls. Teaching more pets to beg.
My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into scarred palms. Soon. Soon I'd show him what his perfect experiment had become.
A hunter. A killer. A monster who remembered how to love.
His greatest success and biggest failure, coming home to roost.
The drive stretched ahead, dark and full of possibility. Nathan took the wheel without asking—he'd learned I was too volatile to trust with vehicles when the mania hit. I watched the miles disappear, each one bringing me closer to an ending I couldn't quite envision.
What would I be when this was over? When Gabriel was dead and the mission complete? The question haunted me more than any nightmare. Because I'd built myself around this hunt. Shaped myself into a weapon aimed at one target.
What happened to weapons when the war was over?
"Stop," Nathan said quietly.
"Stop what?"
"Thinking yourself in circles. We'll deal with after when we get there. Right now, focus on the hunt."
The hunt. Yes. That I understood. That I could do.
Boston by dawn. Properties to search. A ghost to find and put down.
Everything else could wait.
The highway stretched endlessly ahead, and I let myself sink into the familiar rhythm of pursuit. This was what I was now. What I'd chosen to become.
Gabriel's pet had evolved into Gabriel's nightmare.
Time to show him what his training had really created.
20
Closer
The miles bled together like watercolors in rain.
Connecticut to Massachusetts, highway lights creating halos in the November drizzle. Nathan drove while I catalogued every exit, every mile marker, every minute that brought us closer to Boston. To Gabriel. To an ending I couldn't quite imagine.
Three hours in, my hands started shaking.
"Pull over," I said.
Nathan glanced at me but didn't argue. He took the next exit, finding a gas station that squatted against the darkness like a neon infection. I was out of the car before he'd fully stopped, stumbling toward the bathroom on legs that felt disconnected from my body.
The fluorescent lights were too bright. The mirror showed a stranger—hollow eyes, sharp cheekbones, dried blood under my fingernails I'd missed. When had I gotten so thin? Soferal? The past weeks of hunting had carved away everything unnecessary, leaving only purpose and rage.
I splashed cold water on my face, trying to quiet the thing crawling up my spine. Not fear—I'd moved beyond fear weeks ago. This was something else. Something trained into me so deeply that proximity alone could trigger it.
Anticipation.
My body was preparing for him. For Gabriel. Some sick part of my conditioning recognized that we were hunting the master and was getting ready to perform. To be good. To earn approval.
"No." The word came out harsh, directed at my reflection. "Not anymore. Never again."
But my body didn't believe me. My pulse raced with something that wasn't quite fear, wasn't quite excitement. The careful programming responding to stimuli I couldn't control.
When I emerged, Nathan was leaning against the car, watching the door. He took one look at my face and held out his hand.
