Chapter 1
Sera
“If you wish to go any further, you must sign forms A7 and Z12,” snarled the stern, muscular woman staffing the reception desk as soon as the automatic doors slid shut behind me.
I blinked at her, baffled by her tone. She wore her hair in two tight braids, and her mauve eyes glittered with hostility. She looked human apart from the eyes and fangs peeking between her lips, and yet, too perfect to be human. Her physique resembled classic statues of the gods. I wanted to be her.
Minus the attitude.
I shivered, my sweaty T-shirt cooling rapidly in the air-conditioned lobby. The space didn’t just feel cold, it looked so, too. Spacious and furnished with light blue marble and white furniture, it broadcasted wealth and professionalism.
I was so out of place here, shivering in my pink jean shorts and scuffed sneakers, my long, purple braid swinging behind my back.
“Why do I have to sign anything?” I asked, hating how hesitant I sounded.
I was normally self-assured, but the recent events did a number on my nervous system. I was overwhelmed, anxious, and constantly battling the urge to look over my shoulder.
They are coming for you.
“Our system has marked you as a risk of the third category,” the receptionist replied, her lip curling with disdain. “That means you might be attacked as soon as you leave, and we’d rather avoid a bloodbath on our doorstep.”
“Your system?” I asked, locking my knees to keep my legs from trembling. “Some wonky AI, no doubt. No one’s going to attack me in broad daylight! I’m a journalist, not a drug cartel queen.”
She eyed me coolly, her perfectly manicured brow arching. “Yes. Which is why I saidthird category, not fifth or seventh. You have powerful enemies, Miss Evans, which is why you came here. Now either sign or I’ll be forced to remove you from the premises.”
I eyed the biceps bulging under her tight, white shirt to confirm that yes, she was able to remove me all right. Probably without breaking a sweat, too, even though I was fit myself and worked out five days a week.
That woman clearly didn’t like me, yet I couldn’t help but envy her—a little. She was what I aspired to be: strong, immovable, a rock in the face of dissent.
“What are these forms about?” I asked with a sigh of defeat, taking two sheets of paper from her hand. She wore heavy rings that probably doubled as brass knuckles.
“The Monster Security Agency has a reputation to uphold,” she explained. “We do our best to prevent violence on our doorstep.If you remain on the premises and our systems flag an imminent threat, we may deploy a detail and bill you accordingly. Sign to make it clear you consent. We’re not a charity.”
I skimmed the forms and signed both, a heavy weight settling in my stomach. It wouldn’t matter anyway, I told myself firmly. No one would attack me openly. My enemies used more underhanded methods.
Which made them all the more dangerous.
“You don’t like me,” I said, doing my best to sound as cool and haughty as the receptionist, and failing miserably. It was probably in the voice. Hers was steady and rich, while mine was higher pitched and prone to squeaking when I was upset. “You hated me the moment I entered. Why?”
She scoffed, giving me a look clearly expressing her unfavorable opinion of my mental faculties.
“Why? You’ve lobbied for years to get my friends lobotomized and killed. I loathe you, Sera Evans. Luckily for you, I’m at work and there are cameras here, but if you ever see me out in the city, you’d better run.”
I shook my head, frowning.Lobotomized and killed?I’ve never supported anything like that. “No, you must have confused me with someone else or…”
“There you are,” the receptionist said brightly, turning to an elevator on the far side of the brightly lit lobby. It pinged, and the door slid open. “Your consultant, Miss Evans. And my closefriend.”
I swallowed thickly, fear and anger rising in my chest like two tides about to collide and make me implode. I finally understood her meaning. Of course, she was one of those who thought of… them… as people.
The thing that came out of the elevator was not a person. It was a machine covered in armor made of dark, matte metal, with eyes glowing blue in its grotesquely handsome face made to look human. Its body was humanoid and tall, its movements limber and graceful, even though the thing should have lurched and squeaked like a badly oiled contraption.
It moved toward me, and I took a step back, my heart beating right under my skin until I felt sick.
“No,” I whispered, my lips feeling numb. “Please. I… I need someone else.”
The receptionist gave a mean little laugh. “Charlie is our only available consultant at the moment, Miss Evans. Do you wish to leave? Our systems indicate no threats in the area. Leave and never come back.”
I was at the door, letting the hot air from outside blast me as it slid open before the echo of her laughter died down. Here, I stopped, my body coiled with indecision.
