Surely they wouldn’t bring Ryker out for one Ezebethian officer without involving Audrey? At night, Audrey wondered if he was close enough for her to smell his smoke—but she knew hewouldn’t be here for long. Her inevitable interrogation process might be her only chance.
In the last few days, Audrey learned one thing clearly: nothing was random. Prisoners dragged through—burned, screaming, silent—weren’t just casualties. They were pieces in a larger system, sorted into usefulness or extinction.
Audrey tried with Taryn again, voice subdued so as not to disturb the rare, fragile veil of calm shrouding Taryn that day. “Why are they doing this to you?”
A humorless laugh broke free from Taryn’s cracked lips. “I’m Aggregate security. I work in the Fields. I know things. I am…the enemy.”
War had laws only for the people strong enough to enforce them. Audrey didn’t know why she was still surprised.
“And why do I keep hearing Ryker in your head? Did they bring him in for you?” Audrey’s voice hesitated in spite of her best efforts.
Taryn swallowed, eyes beaming with fresh terror. “I wouldn’t talk. A man is missing—a very important one—and they brought in Number One to find if I knew where.”
Mihail, then. It had to be. Even half hidden in someone else’s pain, Audrey knew that much.
Taryn pushed herself up, meeting Audrey head-on despite the shiver in her wrists.
“I know you read minds. You’re likehim.” The fear in her eyes was unmistakable—still, beneath it, her courage held steady.
Audrey knelt so their faces were level. “I’d never take something from you on purpose,” she said gently. “But I’m going to try to kill him. Like I killed Nassar. Like I tried with Basir.”
Taryn could hardly get her next words out. “Good. You’re…different from him. You’re kind.”
Audrey almost argued. Instead, she let the lie sit between them, warm and unbearable. “Can I see what he’s done? Can I hear what he wants?”
Taryn snapped back as though struck, trembling so violently the bed frame creaked. Tears wet her eyes. “I can’t,” she sobbed. “You don’t want to see. He’s a monster.”
“Please, Taryn,” Audrey begged, voice constricted. “I need to know. Anything could help.”
Taryn grasped her hair in both hands, rocking.
“I’ll tell you—but stay out of my head. No more. I cannot take any more.”
“I won’t,” Audrey whispered. “I promise.”
Taryn gasped for air. “He knows almost everything except how to get into Field One. If the Hunters learn that I told him, they’ll kill my family. Even if I die, they’ll punish them. I can’t tell him. I can’t!” She came apart.
Resisting Ryker must have been like trying to hold back a tsunami with bare hands. Audrey stroked her arms. “You did enough. Hear me? Enough. Maybe they’ll take me tomorrow.”
Taryn lifted her mangled face, something like hope—desperate and thin—winking in her eyes. “And then you’ll kill him?”
Audrey didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
For one fragile second, Taryn’s expression eased—like the promise itself might keep her alive until morning.
It made Audrey believe she’d gotten there in time.
The next evening,Taryn had come back glassy-eyed, mumbling. The day after that, even the words were gone. She screamed through the night and fought things that weren’t there.
Taryn was losing her mind by inches. Whatever Ryker was doing had gone beyond burns and cuts. But Audrey stayed out of Taryn’s mind. A promise was a promise.
One night, Audrey woke to Taryn crawling on the floor, moaning, as if she’d fallen out of bed and couldn’t return. Audrey tried to help, but Taryn’s eyes twitched as her body went limp.
Audrey carefully lay her down and checked her pulse. It was barely there.
A minute later, Taryn stopped breathing.
Panic ripped through Audrey. She shook her head. “Taryn. Taryn, wake up.” She didn’t care who heard. She performed chest compressions. Counted. Breathed for her. Counted again. Nothing.
