Page 115 of Villainous Rise

I heard the containment cell door slide shut, followed by Cipher’s footsteps approaching. Even his walk sounded smug. How was that possible?

“What’s wrong?” His voice was closer than I expected, making me jump.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lied, because apparently I enjoy being transparently dishonest to a man who reads people for a living.

“You’ve been glaring at your phone like it insulted your rulebook.” He dropped into the seat beside me, stretching his long legs out. “And you’ve completely ignored my masterful interrogation techniques, which, frankly, is a little hurtful.”

“Sorry I missed your Villain-on-Villain ASMR session back there,” I muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Cipher asked again.

I shook my head, staring down at my phone like I could will Wraith to respond if I concentrated hard enough.

A blur of movement, and suddenly my phone wasn’t in my hand anymore. Cipher twirled it between his fingers.

“Give that back,” I snapped.

He didn’t try to unlock it, but I could feel the weight of his stare behind that mask. The challenge was clear: tell me what’s bothering you, or I’ll find out myself.

“It’s confidential Alliance business.” The words came out flat and drained of energy.

“Give me the non-confidential version,” he said, leaning closer. “I’ll get the rest myself when you’re not looking. That way you won’t get in trouble.”

“You are trouble,” I muttered. I held out my hand. “Phone. Now.”

He placed it in my palm, his fingers lingering against my skin. “Fine. Keep your secrets, Sparks. But remember,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m very, very good at finding things people don’t want found.”

I sighed, my shoulders slumping because I knew he’d make good on the threat sooner rather than later. “I’m still trying to contact Wraith. I’ve lost count of how many messages I’ve sent already, but he hasn’t responded. I feel like I’m failing.”

His hand found mine and he interlaced our fingers. A few minutes ago, he was psychologically destroying a man. Now, his thumb stroked the back of my knuckles with quiet devotion. Being the singular soft spot in a monster’s world was going to ruin me.

“You’re not failing,” he said. “And I told you not to contact Wraith, or have anything to do with him.”

“That’s not an option.” I shoved my phone into my pocket. “It’s just hard for me to be given something important and not be able to complete it.”

My fingers twitched against my thigh, the weight of twenty-eight dead people pressing down on my conscience.

“I can’t shake the feeling that something horrible is going to happen if I don’t manage to contact him. Like I’m just at the beginning of something worse.”

Cipher squeezed my hand once before releasing it and standing. “I have more work to do,” he sighed, striding toward one of the workstations where Number Three hunched over a screen.

I watched him go, admiring the way his suit hugged his ass.

But there was only so much ass watching I could do. I pulled my phone back out, refreshing my messages for the millionth time and nearly dropped the damn thing.

There it was. A response from Wraith. Just a time, 10 PM, and a video link. No pleasantries, no apology for the delay, not even a period at the end. Just the bare minimum communication needed.

I checked the time. 9 PM. Shit.

I rushed over to Cipher, who was leaning over Number Three’s shoulder, pointing at something on the screen.

“I need to go,” I blurted out. “Wraith finally responded.”

Cipher straightened, his posture stiffening. “When?”

“Meeting’s at 10.”

His mouth tightened into that stubborn line I knew too well. “You agreed to stay with me this weekend.”