The Girl Who Dared to Endure (The Girl Who Dared #6)

“So how mad was he when you told him?” asked a feminine voice. I recognized it, too—as the one Baldy had been talking to right before he’d cut my throat. My fingers immediately itched to touch the spot, to remind myself that my neck was whole and unbroken, but I kept them firmly around the gun, straining to hear.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Claire,” Baldy replied tightly. But then, a heartbeat later, he exploded into, “That stupid order to keep that intrusive little bitch alive is a mistake, and we all know it.”

Claire made a consoling noise. “I know, I know,” she said soothingly. “She chased us from our home, and she’s been getting into stuff left and right. But he wants her alive for some reason, and you have to respect that.”

He went quiet, which only made the sound of stomping feet grow louder. I fought against the fear the noise created, focusing instead on their words. They were clearly talking about me, as I was the one who had accidently stumbled into their home when we were trying to recover some items we needed from the Attic. That was when he had cut my throat, as a cover for their escape. But the fact that they really didn’t want me dead left me feeling two things.

The first being abject fear. They might have orders to keep me alive, but they clearly didn’t like it. If they found us here and got the upper hand, who knew if they would let me live a second time. They might not, if they realized what I was here for—and how much I knew.

The second thing I noticed was that Baldy had mentioned a “he.” That meant there was a leader over Baldy… but was he over Sadie? Or was Sadie over him? Or were they partners?

I waited for them to say more about it, but to my dismay, the next thing I heard was Claire’s voice saying, “What the hell… Why is Sadie’s desk a mess?”





2





My heart seemed to go very quiet in my chest, and I had to put a hand over it just to make sure it was still beating. Stomach churning, I squeezed the pommel of the gun tighter and waited for his reply.

When it finally came, it filled me with some relief, but not much. “I don’t know,” he replied uncertainly. “Maybe she lost something and was in the process of looking for it when she had to leave?”

That was good. They were jumping to a reasonable idea instead of immediately arriving at the conclusion that someone was here. And why wouldn’t they? The councilor’s quarters were supposed to be the most secure places in the Tower. None of them had been breached.

Although, given the ease with which I was able to do it (ha!), maybe that record wasn’t as pristine as I had been told. I wasn’t arrogant enough to assume that my team was the only one to come up with a plan to get in.

Still, it made sense that they wouldn’t immediately leap to that conclusion.

But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t get there eventually. We needed to move—now—away from them, before they questioned it. We could come up with a plan once we had some distance between us.

I started to sign my plan to Leo in Callivax—the hand language of the Divers—but stopped when I heard Claire’s reply. “I don’t know. Something feels off about this.”

Dammit, Claire, I thought bitterly. Why’d you have to be a smart bad guy?

“What? Do you want to check it out?” If Claire replied, it must have been via a head nod, because I heard Baldy give an irritated sigh a few seconds later. “He’s going to be angry at the delay, but yeah, take a look around. I’m sure it’s nothing, but you’re right. Something feels off.”

“Thank you,” she replied gratefully. “I’ll take Callum. You just focus on getting what we came here for.”

I didn’t hear a reply from Baldy—only the sound of footsteps heading right toward us. And there were no other rooms between us and the office for them to check first. They had already noticed the mess, but if they noticed the hard drives and figured out that Jasper and Rose were being downloaded, too, they would definitely know someone was here. As soon as they did, we would lose any opportunity of surprising them, and it could give them a chance to call someone and let them know we were here.

Not. Good.

I was up and moving before I even had a chance to think, signing to Leo in Callivax that two of them were coming, and froze when I realized I wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed. I knew how to use the gun, but I wasn’t skilled in the type of combat necessary for it. I wasn’t sure where the best place to stand was, what tactics to use. The gun was familiar in my hand, thanks to the legacy net. Someone in the past had had experience with firearms, and that experience had translated to me—but only so much of it.

Panic surged through me as I realized that my earlier confidence in having the guns might have been misplaced. Leo’s eyes were trained on my hands, but as the boots grew louder, I knew I wouldn’t be able to figure out the right move. Should we stand next to the door, opposite it, flip up the mattress and hide behind it, use our lashes to get to the ceiling… My eyes darted around the room as I considered the multitude of choices, and it suddenly occurred to me that I had no comprehension of gun strategy. A wave of frustration and fear rolled over me, and I struggled to find the best answer.

Suddenly, a buzz shot through my skull thanks to my net, and my panic doubled. I didn’t have time to be sucked away from reality and taken by yet another memory. The episodes left me blind to the real world when they occurred, and if I was locked in one when the door opened, they’d have me. I struggled against it, pressing one hand to my mouth to cover my gasp. Leo started to rush over, but I waved him back with my free arm.

To my surprise, though, no memory took me away. It was difficult to explain, but I felt some sort of past personality extending something like a handshake in a light, tentative brush across my brain. The touch was questioning, inquisitive, curious, but also confident and sure, as if it were saying, Girl, do you need a little help? My immediate response was that I did, and the next thing I felt was a wave of confidence suddenly translating into me.

No, it was more than that. It was like someone else was just under my skin, controlling my very responses. Leo’s brown eyes widened as I suddenly straightened. Now, as I surveyed the room, it was like I could see the various positions I could take, and the new impulse inside of me directed me to the bed. I followed it and took a kneeling position on the bed, my arms extended straight toward the door.

Leo cocked his head at me, but the controlling force didn’t bat a single eyelash as I lined up the shot. A deep calm seemed to settle over my muscles, and I couldn’t help but question it. I had been nervous seconds ago, but now I felt confident. Maybe too confident. What if I was just imagining the net doing this? It had certainly never done anything like this before.

My questions didn’t affect the calm, though, and I didn’t move.

A shadow appeared on the edge of the gap, then, and grew as the figure beyond stopped just on the other side of the door. My grip on the gun tightened. The barrier between us started to rise, and I tracked its progress with my gun as legs clad in the gray of an IT uniform slid into view. My heart thudded against my chest as a chest appeared next—female, given the ampleness.

That meant Claire. A person with a name. A person with a family. A person, full stop.

But the legacy net told me what had to be done, and time slowed as her neck appeared, slim and pretty. It reminded me that she had been there when my throat was cut—and had done nothing to stop Baldy. My finger tightened on the trigger.

Her eyes came next, then, and I exhaled and squeezed. There was a sharp bang, and the gun kicked in my hand, but the memory held my hand firm.