Something flickered on the other side of Ming’s vehicle.
“Get in the car!” Shoving her inside, Dev crashed in behind her. As he spun them out of the lot and away, the car reacting unbelievably fast, she turned to look.
Ming’s car had somehow collapsed inward, as if someone had crumpled the frame like so much paper. “Dev?” she whispered.
“Turns out that frame had some metal in it” was his cryptic answer. “How many men teleported in?”
“Four.” She could see them silhouetted against the New York skyline. All were wearing the unrelieved black of the Arrow Squad. The fact that they were still at Ming’s vehicle as Dev’s car disappeared around the corner made her jaw tighten. “Ming’s not dead.”
Dev hung up the phone, meeting Katya’s eyes as she sat on their bed, her arms locked around raised knees. “You’re right, the bastard survived.” DarkRiver’s Psy contact had come through again. It made Dev wonder how high up in the superstructure that contact was, but he wasn’t idiotic enough to jeopardize the man’s cover by asking too many questions.
“I shot him in the head.”
“He has the devil’s luck.” Climbing onto the bed, he sat with his legs bracketing her, his hands cupping her face. “The bullet blasted through and straight out the other side, along the very top of his skull. He’s unconscious but predictions are he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Will it all come back on you? On Shine?”
“No, baby.” He moved his body closer around hers, hating to see her like this, so quiet, so shattered. “This is simply another chapter in a war we’ve been fighting since my ancestors dropped from the Net. It’s just out in the open now.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yes.” He could still remember the sheer panic he’d felt at being trapped in the car while she stood so close to Ming. “You weren’t supposed to actually knock me out.” The dose had been small—he’d started to come out of it even as they peeled out of the first meeting spot, but the injector had been meant to be empty.
“Because I know how thorough Ming is,” she said, her fingers curling into his T-shirt right over his heart. “He’d never have missed that. I had to make him think I’d pulled off the ultimate double cross, made you believe I cared for you . . . then delivered you up to save my own life.”
“And he’s so sure of his power, he didn’t bother to look beyond the surface.”
“No.” A tight smile. “I’m nothing to him—he can’t comprehend that I might have a mind of my own.”
He locked his arms behind her, his fingers clenched. “Where did you get the gun?”
She’d wondered when he’d ask her that question. “Guess.”
“My grandmother.”
“Yes.” Katya had expected an immediate “no” to her request. Instead Kiran Santos had looked into her eyes for a long moment before reaching into her purse and retrieving the weapon. “At first, I couldn’t believe she trusted me, then I realized it’s you she trusts.” She spread her fingers over his heartbeat. “Will you tell me about why locks open for you?”
“Figured that out, did you?” A lighthearted comment, and yet his soul went cold. Because if she was asking him for secrets . . . “No.”
“Please—I’m so curious.”
And because he could deny her nothing, he told her about his affinity to metal. “At first, it was just metal. I could sense it, feel it, taste it. The chill of it keeps me calm when everyone else is exploding.” Except with her. Never had it worked with her. “As I grew older, I found I could manipulate objects with metallic components, like deadbolts.”
“Did it develop further?”
“This year,” he said, “I’ve begun to ‘connect’ with machines that have very few metallic components—I’m talking a single circuit. I can now command computers on a basic level, such as those in cars. In time, I might literally be able to ‘talk’ to much more sophisticated systems—Glen and Connor think it’s possible I could grow beyond the need for metal altogether.”
“Extraordinary,” she whispered. “You’re developing the ability to interface with machines on the mental level.” For an instant, the pain receded from her voice as the scientist took over. “It’s a skill specific to the technological age.”
“That’s what the docs say.” Releasing the death grip he had on his own hands, he cupped the back of her head, stroked her nape. “Want to see a cool trick?”
A little nod, weak, too weak. Pain shot along his jaw, down his spine, but he didn’t let the emotions out, didn’t break when she needed him to stay strong. “Watch.” Focusing, he drew metal to him.
“Oh!” Katya ducked as a small metal sculpture attached itself to his arm. “You’re magnetic?”
“No.” He pulled the sculpture off, placing it on a nearby table. “Though the effect is the same. You should see me with spoons.”