“Ford doesn’t deserve to be in a cell,” I say darkly. “He helped me escape Sanctum Point. I wouldn’t have made it through the Blacklands without him.”
“As I already told you, the Authority will decide what to do with him.” Noting my frustration, Grayson softens his tone. “We’re not giving a Silver Block lieutenant free rein of our base. He’ll be detained until further notice.”
“You mean until you decide whether you’re going to kill him.”
“Pretty much.”
I shake my head at him. “You weren’t this callous on the Command base.”
“Yes,” he says simply. “I was.” Then his eyes sparkle. “But I was also charming. Lovable. Hilarious…”
I recite my own list. “Conceited, obnoxious…”
He winks. “I’m a man of many talents, Darlington. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
“I haven’t figured out anything other than I cried at your funeral. Igrievedfor you.”
The playful glint is snuffed from his expression. “I know, and I’m sorry about that. I truly am. But I had a mission to execute. You of all people should understand that. You were running a mission, too, after we recruited you.”
“ ‘We,’ ” I echo, still trying to process that. “I can’t believe you were a Mod that entire time.”
Even as I glower at him in accusation, I can’t resist opening a path and tapping into the frequency for telepathy. When you link with someone, you need to ask for permission. It’s a nudge, a polite way to access their mind, rather than the mind-reading frequency that allows you topushyour way inside. Luckily, every Mod has an internal alarm system designed to combat that unwanted intrusion. If someone infiltrates your shield, an electric shock courses up the back of your neck, alerting you to the danger.
With telepathy, Mods possess their own unique energy signatures. You recognize that energy when you link, and if someone dies, that energy disappears.
Grayson doesn’t have a telepathic signature.
The discovery fills me with bewilderment. I can see his shield, a strong one, which means reading his mind is a possibility. But telepathic energy? Nothing.
“Why can’t I link with you?” I stare at him, suspicion churning in my stomach. “What kind of Mod are you?”
“The kind without telepathy.”
My mistrust gives way to surprise. “Bullshit.”
“It’s the truth.” He shrugs. “We’re a rare breed.”
“But youareModified?”
“Yes.”
“So what can you do?”
That makes him chuckle. “Sorry, cowgirl. You’re need-to-know at the moment. Until you see the Authority, you’re not getting any more answers.”
“Fine. Where’s the Authority then? Where’s Adrienne?”
“You’ll be summoned soon for a briefing.” His comm vibrates in his hand, and he checks the screen again, sighing.
“Is that them?”
“No.” Sliding the device in his pocket, he takes off walking and gestures for me to follow him.
I struggle to match his long strides, trying to absorb everything I’m seeing. And here I thought the Command base’s layout was complicated. The Dagger is a sprawling network of tunnels and corridors bathed in artificial lighting. There are cameras everywhere, and nearly every door requires a print or eye scan.
“Is this a fortress or a prison?” I ask, marveling at the security protocols.
“A little bit of both,” he says without slowing down.
