She smirked at Keefe, daring him to contradict her. But he honestly wouldn’t care if Dex made him sound like a screeching siren, if it made talking safe again.

“Welllll,” Dex said, dragging out the word. “I bet I can figure out how to make something like that. But… would it really help? There’s a difference between voice and tone, you know? Look at Sandor. He sounds all cute and cuddly—until he gives an order. Then he’s terrifying. But his voice doesn’t change. Just his tone.”

“Okay, first: I’m so telling Gigantor you called him cuddly,” Ro told him. “Second: If you think he’s terrifying, you should hear my dad command his Mercadirs. And third: I… guess that’s a fair point. So, fine, make something that tweaks Hunkyhair’s tone.”

Dex reached up, mussing his strawberry-blond hair. “I mean… I can definitely try. But tone is way more complicated, since it’s connected to emotion.”

“It is?” Keefe asked—then clapped his hands over his mouth.

Ro pumped her fist. “He speaks! And look—the world didn’t end! No one got all dazed or numb or anything! Try it again! Try it again!”

Keefe pressed his hands tighter against his lips and glanced at Dex, hoping the look in his eyes said Please ignore my annoying bodyguard and answer the question I accidentally asked, because emotion might be a clue to what’s happening with this ability.

“Think about it,” Dex told him. “When you feel sad or angry, your tone changes, right?”

Keefe nodded slowly.

He hadn’t really considered what he’d been feeling when he’d numbed everybody. He’d been more focused on how Sophie’s emotions had overloaded his brain.

But… when he’d touched Sophie’s hand and everything turned overwhelming, some part of him had been terrified that he’d never be able to get close to her again. And that made him desperate to do anything to stop the chaos.

He’d also been just as scared and desperate when he was trying to figure out how to snap everyone out of it.

Though… the first few words he’d tried hadn’t worked, and he’d been just as emotional when he said those. So there had to be some other variable—some other connection—between the two effective commands.

His mind drifted back to the moment right before he’d finally found the word that brought everyone out of the daze.

What had he done differently for that command?

He’d made himself stop, take a deep breath, and think. And then…

He seriously had no idea.

Somehow he just knew the word he needed to say—knew it would work even before he said it.

Was that… confidence?

Maybe—but that couldn’t be the connection either, since he definitely hadn’t been feeling confident when he numbed everyone.

There had to be something else.

And then he realized…

It was all about him.

His wants—or maybe it made more sense to call it his needs. Either way, it was that craving—that desire—that took over and made him do whatever it took to get his way.

Which was actually super terrifying, since his mom could easily use that to manipulate him.

She knew his hopes and fears and dreams.

And she knew exactly how to stack them against him.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, burying his head in his hands and closing his eyes.

“Oh goody, looks like we’re back to the overthinking,” Ro announced, and a burst of her annoyance hit Keefe like a gut-punch.

It took all of his willpower not to shout back, Of course I’m overthinking—I could turn everyone into mindless murderers for my mommy if I don’t figure out how to stop this!

“Hey,” Dex said—and when Keefe didn’t respond, the bed shifted, like Dex had sat down beside him. “I’ll see what I can come up with, okay? And if I can’t figure it out, I’ll check with Tinker. Or I can always have Sophie enhance me. Sometimes that helps me find the right answer.”

The promise should’ve made Keefe feel better—especially since he wasn’t picking up any pity in the air.

But his brain was too stuck on the word “enhance.”

What would happen if Sophie enhanced his ability?

He did not want to find out.

And there were only two ways to make sure that never happened.

He could stay away from Sophie from now on, or…

He cleared his throat and raised his head, trying to focus on calm, steady breaths.

“Wait—I think he’s going to speak again!” Ro called out.

He was, because this request was too important to risk any misunderstanding.

In fact, it required a whole sentence.

He cleared his throat again, lowering his voice to something barely more than a whisper as he said, “I need you to make me an ability restrictor.”

And whoa, did he get hit with worry, anger, and panic.

His ears rang and his vision dimmed and he sucked in a long, deep breath as Dex jumped to his feet and told him, “I’m never making one of those again!”

Keefe wasn’t surprised.

The other ability restrictor that Dex had made was an epic disaster and had left Sophie powerless and in a whole lot of pain. Their entire group also had to flee the Lost Cities after Dex defied the Council and destroyed the gadget.

But this was different.

This new ability needed to be restricted.

And it was only a matter of time before the Council realized that and locked Keefe away somewhere.

“Please,” he whispered, keeping the word barely audible. “You can find a way to key it to my DNA, so it’ll only work on me.”

Dex shook his head so hard it made his ears jiggle. “Then the Council could have one of their Technopaths figure out a way around that. Or copy my design and build a bunch more—why do you think I threw the other one into the fire?”

His resolve felt like a wall between them.

“Please,” Keefe begged again, trying to wear Dex down with as few words as possible.

But Dex’s determination strengthened, and Keefe could tell that nothing he could say would get through.

Unless…

His heart started racing and his palms started sweating and he felt a thought start itching in the back of his brain.

No—not a thought.

A word.

A word that Keefe refused to acknowledge because he knew it was his need taking over again, and if he said the word, it would smash through Dex’s doubts and make him cooperate.

But he couldn’t shove the word out of his mind either, because the need kept reminding him that if Dex wouldn’t make him an ability restrictor, he could never see Sophie again.

He’d probably never be able to see anyone.

Those were his only options.

He had to make Dex understand.

Had to. Had to. Had to.

The command burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it back, hacking and coughing as the unspoken word caught in his throat.

His instincts were screaming at him to stop resisting, but he slammed his fist into his chest, and the pain distracted him enough to make the word fade.

“Whoa, easy, boy,” Ro said, grabbing Keefe’s arm to stop him from hitting himself again. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Keefe shook his head, feeling tears pour down his cheeks as the rest of him collapsed into Ro, clinging to her as hard as he could.