“I’m sure Loricel can only move so many of us at once,” he says, but his eyes dart around as we wait for Jax and Falon to join us.

After a moment, a figure rips into the room, crashing onto the floor. Jax rolls over with a groan. “That was not pleasant.”

We wait a few more minutes before I start to realize no one else is coming. “Dante,” I say softly, “Falon will chew you out if she shows up and we’re waiting around.”

Jax takes my lead. “Yeah, man. We can’t wait.”

“You’re right,” Dante says, but his eyes never meet mine. He keeps searching the air, waiting for her to appear.

Jax distributes a number of devices that look like digifiles to me, but they’re smaller.

“What are these?” I ask him.

“PTDs. Portable telecommunications devices,” he says.

“Like a walking companel?” I ask.

“It’s more like a complant, but I don’t have to embed this one in your brain. They’re given to lower-level officers in the Guild. We’ll be able to communicate with one another through them,” he explains. “But if you get caught, smash it.”

“Smash it?”

“Heel of boot and floor,” he says. “Otherwise it will lead security straight to the other two … three of us.”

If Falon joins us. There’s still no sign of her.

“What first?” I ask.

“I need to get to the mainframe and dive in while you get Cormac to say that pass code.”

“How will we know when you’ve initiated the protocol?” Dante asks.

“You’ll know,” he says. “This whole building is wired to alert everyone of the impending protocol.”

“Are you telling me an alarm will go off?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says with a sheepish grin.

“There goes our low profile,” I say with a grimace. Now that we’re here, my bravado is evaporating quickly. I might have been able to guess Cormac’s code or find it somewhere in his office. I already knew all his favorite things—cigar boxes and decanters. If it was hidden somewhere, I could find it. But talking it out of him was another story, especially if I would have to wait for an alarm to signal me that it was time for him to say it.

“Nothing about this mission was going to stay secret for long,” Dante reminds me. We race through the halls, following the blueprints Jax has uploaded to his digifile.

“I’m down here,” Jax says, motioning to a door on his right.

“Good luck,” I say, and without thinking I lunge forward and hug him.

“No time for that,” Dante says, but the two shake hands with a meaningful nod to each other.

“Cormac’s office is on the third floor,” Jax says.

“I know.” Despite my claim that I can get Cormac to talk, as we maneuver the halls of the Ministry dread builds in me, overflowing into a frantic energy that spills through my body. It’s quiet here, so quiet our footsteps echo off the white tiled floors. Every door we pass is shut, and we haven’t encountered a soul yet.

“You okay?” Dante asks.

I nod, but I can’t hide the tremors rolling through my body. Everything depends on getting Cormac to do one thing for me. And Cormac has never done anything for me before. I don’t know why I expect he will now. As we round the corridor that leads directly to Cormac’s office, a pair of thick hands grab me from behind.

“Look what I found,” a gruff voice teases in my ear. Hannox. Of course. I kick back against my captor, but between being out of breath from running and a little wobbly from the rebound, my feet meet with air. And the man laughs.

“Cormac is expecting you,” Hannox says. He pushes me forward and I stumble up on my feet.

“I wouldn’t drop by unannounced,” I say, trying to keep the situation light even though my pulse is racing. I glance around, finally catching sight of Dante. He’s been pinned by another security guard, who’s holding a gun to Dante’s head.

“Yet you’re using a veil,” Hannox says.

I bite my lip and stare him down. I have no idea how he can guess that.

“We found your friend. She put up quite a fight,” Hannox says. “It shouldn’t be long until they’ve locked in on all the veiled sequences in the pattern.”

“What did you do to her?” Dante demands. Another guard is holding him steady, his arms locked behind his back.

“What we do to traitors,” Hannox spits back at him. He gets up next to Dante’s face. “We ripped that little girl. And now we’ll rip her, too.” He jerks a thumb at me.

Dante’s jaw tenses, but before I can say anything to distract him, he smashes his forehead into Hannox’s nose, sending a fountain of blood spurting into the air and the guard fumbling to control his gun.

“You bastard,” Hannox says, grabbing his nose. His hand flies up.

“Stop!” Cormac commands. “This is no way to treat our guests.”

“He broke my bloody nose,” Hannox shrieks.

“Thanks for the status update,” Cormac says. “Bring them into my office.”

Hannox grabs me roughly and drags me toward the open door at the end of the hall. I consider the injuries I could inflict on him and for a moment my fingers itch and tingle, urging me to attack. But if I unwind Cormac’s right-hand man, I’ll never get Cormac to give me the pass code.