Rage reignited, dark with the need to draw blood. He had to consciously focus to form speech past the vicious power of it. “Why would they have spoken of anything sensitive in your hearing?”
“They made a mistake,” she said, her voice halting as if she was reconstructing fragments of memory. “Ming broke me, but even broken, I had ears, I had eyes. He treated me like I was an insect he’d crushed under his boot, not worth bothering about.”
The rage in him was a wild thing, animalistic in its anger . . . its anguish. “What,” he forced himself to ask, “did you hear?”
Katya looked up at the sound of Dev’s voice, that raw blade. His anger was a lash in the air, a whip of fire. But somehow instead of inciting fear, it made her feel stronger. “Lots of things.”
Dev watched her with those amazing eyes, and she knew, she knew he would kill for her. It shook her, the knowledge of how deeply they’d bonded with each other. What if— “No,” Dev said. “Don’t think about anything but this task. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
She nodded, her movements jerky.
“I don’t have all the pieces yet, but I know I have to go. I have to see.”
His hand against her cheek. Warm. Protective. “You have no idea what you’re searching for?”
“Something bad.” She turned into his touch. “When I think of it, I get this oily sickness in my gut.” Evil, she thought. It was something evil waiting for her, a thing her mind refused to show her, but whose malevolent shadow overlay every other thought.
EARTHTWO COMMAND LOG: SUNSHINE STATION
17 September 2080: Productivity has dropped fifty-seven percent in the past three days as staff members complain of increasingly severe headaches.
It may be advisable to consider a recall of all personnel until the area has been thoroughly tested for biological and/or chemical contaminants. Please advise.
CHAPTER 34
Dev pressed a kiss to her forehead, the unexpectedly affectionate gesture making her eyes burn. “We’d better start as soon as possible.”
She knew the three days he’d given her would cost him, but he was going to take the hit—for her. “Dev . . . I could be leading you into a trap.” In spite of how far she’d come, her mind remained a savage maze, full of holes and deception.
Dev rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “Still don’t get it, do you, Katya? I take care of what’s mine.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she began, but the set of his jaw told her she was wasting her breath. “Were you born stubborn?”
“My mother used to say I was half mule.”
It made her smile. “That would make one of your parents a mule. Your mother?”
“She never admitted it.” His eyes filmed over with a sadness so deep, she felt her throat lock. “Never had the chance.”
She hesitated, unsure of her instincts, of her mind, her soul . . . but not of her heart. “What happened to her?”
“My father killed her.” A stark response that stole her breath.
She was still trying to find the words with which to respond when he continued. “That was when I first understood why some of our ancestors chose Silence. My father—he was never abusive. It was his gift that turned him into a killer.”
Reaching out a hand, she closed it over his.
“The ShadowNet,” Dev said, looking down at their linked hands, “is a completely different animal from the PsyNet, but we have some similarities.”
“Dev,” she said, cutting him off though it was the last thing she wanted to do. “You mustn’t tell me any more.” If she betrayed him, even if it wasn’t by choice, it would shatter her—and she knew she wouldn’t rise again. Not from that.
His face was suddenly that of the conqueror she’d once seen in him. “We’ll break you free, Katya. Even if I have to kill Ming LeBon himself.”
“No.” She grabbed both his hands. “He’s my monster to slay. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“Don’t you think I can take him?”
She stared at him, at his cool eyes, his muscular body, his soldier’s patience, and said, “I know you could. And that’s what terrifies me.”
A waiting silence.
“I don’t want you to become what he is,” she whispered, knowing that Dev had a ruthlessness in him that could turn him cruel, an assassin with a single, brutal objective. She had no doubt that he’d achieve that objective—but he might lose himself in the process. “I’m afraid that if you hunt him, it’ll change you, make you a reflection of Ming.”
He didn’t reply, and she knew that if push came to shove, Dev would go after Ming. And if that happened, there’d be only one choice. One she’d make without flinching. She was becoming Dev’s weakness. Excise her from existence, and that weakness would no longer exist.