“What about Valery?” I ask. “We can’t leave her here.”

“Jax will take care of her. Get her clothes and get her to the crawler.” Dante looks to Jax for confirmation, and Jax nods.

“I’ll message Falon from Valery’s quarters,” Jax says.

I look at Dante and his face is determined as he gives one final order: “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

* * *

I rap so quietly on Erik’s door that he doesn’t respond so I knock again. When he answers his door, his shirt is untucked and his hair tousled but I can tell he hasn’t been sleeping.

“Can I come in?” I ask. It’s my job to convince both Erik and Jost to come, something I plan to approach with separate tactics, while Jax works on a distraction and gets Val and Dante out and into a crawler. The plan is straight and to the point, so I’m positive it will go all wrong.

Erik looks flustered to see me, which is unusual, but we haven’t talked about what he said to Jost. If he meant it. Or how I feel about it. Because I’m not sure yet. I duck in under his arm and push the door closed.

“I have something I need to tell you,” I start, but before I can continue Erik leans into me, resting his arm on the door behind me, and suddenly I can’t seem to breathe. He’s so close to me that I can see the golden flecks around his irises, like stars swimming in the ocean.

“We’ve needed to talk for a while,” he murmurs.

This close I can see that his lower lip is slightly fuller than the top one. I want him to lean closer. In this moment, I forget about Kincaid and Valery and Jost. I want him to kiss me.

Instead I push him away. Erik sighs and drops onto his bed, leaning his head into his hand. I’m immensely jealous of his hand in this moment. How he runs it through the mess of his hair.

“Not about us,” I stop him. “There’s trouble. More trouble than I can explain right now.”

“Well?” he says expectantly.

“We have to get out of here. I’ll explain later.”

“Explain now.” He grabs my wrist to stop my frantic pacing.

I gawk at him and pull away. Before I can respond to Erik’s demand, the door bursts open and a man stumbles in. At first I think we’ve been discovered, but then Jost appears in the doorway behind him.

So this is how it ends. The betrayal numbs my body into paralysis.

But Jost surprises me, releasing his fist. It makes hard contact with the Sunrunner’s jaw. He bounces back but doesn’t fall and soon he’s tussling with Jost. They wrestle each other to the floor and I jump up, looking for a way to help without accidentally ripping apart the room or anyone in it.

The Sunrunner pins Jost to the floor, his arm coiled around his neck.

“Little help here,” Jost gasps against the pressure.

I whip around, looking for something to attack the Sunrunner with, and as I do, the room spins to life, full of purple and gold and crimson. I could use my alteration abilities.

“Do it,” Jost croaks.

Before I can, Erik jumps in, surprising the Sunrunner enough that he loses his grip on Jost, who reverses the hold, pinning the other man to the ground as Erik unceremoniously cracks the medicinal bottle of whiskey over our attacker’s head, knocking him out.

“What’s going on?” Jost demands, his breath coming in heavy, fast pants.

I look to Erik, but neither of us speaks. I hadn’t planned on convincing both of them to come at the same time. That would require a miracle.

“Do you know what he was going to do to you? I got to know Burris on the mission,” Jost continues, pointing to the man on the floor. “Kincaid doesn’t send Burris to bring you tea. Trust me. He sends Burris to kill you—or worse.”

“Why would anyone want to kill us?” Erik asks in a cool voice.

“That’s what I’m asking you,” Jost says.

“Why don’t you ask Burris?” Erik says, crossing his arms defensively, abandoning the brief brotherly camaraderie.

“Because he’s not currently very talkative,” Jost says, “and because he already told me.”

“Told you what?” I ask.

“That he caught a spy and was going after her,” he says. “I assume he means you.”

My heart thumps when he looks at me. “We have to get out of here.”

“And go where?” Jost asks. “Kincaid will be after you.”

“We know where the Whorl is,” I say, trying to keep my head clear and my words rational despite the trying circumstances I’ve found myself in this evening, but when I finish relating the night’s events, neither of them acts surprised. Erik places an arm around my shoulder, but I shrug it off, aware of Jost’s tensed jaw.

“Why are we still here?” Jost asks, his gaze glued to the floor. “If Dante knows where the Whorl is, we need to go.”

“We have to wait for Jax. We can’t get past security without a distraction,” I tell him. Our eyes meet for a moment before I look away, confusion blooming in my chest.

“This ought to be good,” Erik mutters, “and by good, I mean very, very bad.”

THIRTY-SIX

JAX’S DISTRACTION COMES IN THE FORM OF blowing up a garage that sits far enough from the main house that we aren’t in imminent danger but close enough that the security force acts swiftly, giving us the opportunity to slip out of an entrance at the back of the house. As smoke pours from the wreckage, we flee the estate in the stolen crawler, Dante and Valery tucked safely inside with a bag of food and water. Jax has kept his word—everyone is too busy to see us go and the gates are unattended. I don’t look back at Kincaid’s playground. There’s nothing left for me there. Jost drives north, following a rough map Dante has drafted.