Page 97 of Villainous Intent

“Cipher—”

“No.” I leaned closer. “You want to save him? You want to play Keeper? Then here’s the deal,” I whispered. “You walk out those doors with Number Fifteen. You go to my office. You sit in my chair and you wait for me. If you do that, I will make his end quick.”

She shuddered and opened her mouth to argue but I squeezed her throat just enough to silence her.

“If you stay,” I continued, sliding my hand up to cup her jaw, “if you force me to have this conversation one second longer, I will peel him apart. I will take my time. And I will make you watch every second of it.”

Her breath hitched and her eyes went wide. She’d finally realized she wasn’t talking to Cipher the public persona anymore and I was certain she hadn’t forgotten how I’d forced her to watch Solstice’s death at the hands of Dread at the Opener.

“Choose, Annie.”

She stared at me for a heartbeat. Two. Then her gaze flickered to the containment cell, where Velocity was still shouting mute obscenities, oblivious to the fact that his style of execution hung on the whim of the woman he’d just abused.

“It will be quick?” She looked paler now but she still hadn’t shied away.

“Instant.”

She jerked her chin out of my grip. She didn’t look at Velocity again as she walked toward Fifteen.

“Number Fifteen,” she said, her voice regaining its professional clip. “Escort me to the office.”

The doors hissed shut behind them and the silence that remained on the bridge was absolute.

I turned back to the containment cell and looked at Velocity.

The cold inside me finally snapped into focus.

“Now,” I said to the room. “Where were we?”

CHAPTER 19

ANNIE

My anger was a tangled mess. It was aimed at Cipher, naturally, for dragging me here, for the casual murder he was committing as if it were nothing. But it was also aimed at Velocity. That smug, stupid boy-Hero. He’d broken the rules. You don’t call a civilian in Villain custody a whore. You don’t degrade them. He’d shattered half a dozen regulations in one breath.

It was completely unprofessional.

My stomach twisted when I realized I was mentally tallying Alliance rules to justify a man’s murder. A man who had only insulted me. The part of me that was Annie Bishop, Keeper, was screaming in horror at my own detached pragmatism.

The door opened and Cipher stood in the doorway. It had been less than five minutes.

“What the hell is your problem?” I rounded on him. “I’m nothing to you. A distraction. A prop for your ratings. So why? Why did you kill him just for insulting me?”

He just reached up, gripped the edges of his mask and pulled it off. His face was a study in cold fury. His silver eyes were icy, his jaw locked so tight I could see the muscle jump beneath his skin.

He advanced on me and I took a step back, my shoulders hitting the wall beside the tiny window.

“My problem,” he said, his rich baritone dropping lower, “is that you don’t understand what you are.” He slapped his hand against the wall, bracketing my head while he brought his thigh between mine, parting my legs and trapping me.

“Masked as my ally? You are mine.” His fingers traced the edge of my mask. “Unmasked in my custody? Mine.” He peeled the mask off my face and tossed it onto the desk with a sharp clatter. “Forced to work together?” His lips brushed against my temple. “Still mine.”

His fingers captured my chin and tilted my face up to his.

“No matter what role you are playing, Annie,” he breathed, his hypnotic gaze dropping to my mouth, “you are fucking mine.”

His thumb dragged over my lower lip, slowly, pressing into the soft flesh.

“No one touches you. No one hurts you.” His lips ghosted over mine. “That is my right.”