Tucked between the last three remaining members of my extraction team, I made my way down the concrete stairs. Becca Jackson continued to short out cameras and digital displays as we passed, but after we made it into the airlock at the third level, neither Calhoun’s badge nor the one I’d stolen from the sorcerer on the medical level would open the second set of doors. The only doors that led to the quarters of the Five.
Jackson set to work on the locking mechanism, trying to access and reprogram it, rather than short it out. I pressed my ear to the sealed door, visualizing the long hall that lay behind it. White-painted concrete walls and floors. Six steel doors — one for each of us, and a spare. Why there were six rooms for the five of us, we’d never known.
My guess had always been that there were once plans for us to be the Six, not just five. Though what magic the sixth of our generation would have wielded, I couldn’t even guess.
The other four could have been dying just on the other side of the airlock. Separated from each other, unable to fully access their magic, and gassed … poisoned … murdered … as they tried to break out of their rooms. Because of me.
I’d always been the responsible one, the rational one. Trained to lead, to inspire confidence and commitment. Designed at a cellular level through to conception and birth to be the epicenter, the core … the heart of the Five.
I stepped back from the door, giving the tech and demolitions specialist space to work. Jackson didn’t need me screwing up her process with any wild magic called forth by an irrational emotional response.
Mark Calhoun was watching me. I cut my gaze toward him then looked deliberately away. He turned his focus to the door behind us, covering our rear.
The airlock door sighed, then shifted open an inch. I surged forward. Bracing my left palm on the frame, I attempted to wrench the door farther open with my right. Pressing against me, Calhoun and Flynn grabbed the door below and above me. Between the three of us, we muscled it open.
The hall was dark.
It was never dark.
A terrible pit yawned open in my stomach.
“Masks,” Mark snapped, placing a tiny breathing apparatus over his mouth and nose. The other two mimicked him, placing masks on their faces as well.
I strode forward, pausing before the first door to the right. Bee’s door. Jackson pressed a spare mask into my hand. I took it but didn’t put it on. Then she mumbled a single word as she tossed a trio of small stones down the hall. Three miniature spotlights bloomed from each stone, leaving strange pits of shadow sporadically along the walls.
“Nul5?” Calhoun asked. “Amp5, which door leads to the nullifier?”
I shook my head, realizing that I’d been oddly frozen in place. Getting Fish out first made perfect sense. Once freed, he and Jackson could work separately to free the others.
The airlock door shuddered, then slid back into place behind me.
“Shit,” Becca muttered. “That was fast. They’ve got the new whiz kid in the booth.”
I didn’t know who she was talking about, but I inferred that the appearance of new staff since the roof incident in LA hadn’t been limited to just the medical wing.
“Socks!” Mark snapped. “Nul5?”
“Last door on the right.”
Jackson surged forward, racing down the corridor and practically attacking the locking mechanism at the side of the far door. Calhoun and Flynn covered the airlock door.
The hall dead-ended. And I knew from experience that there were triple-thick, magic-and-steel-lined walls between each of the rooms. Our handlers were careful about keeping us separated, or at least maintaining their ability to separate us. But they’d been underestimating our capacity to foil their restraints since we were all in our early teens. Though whenever any of us had managed to sneak out of our rooms and into Fish’s, they would eventually figure out a new way to thwart us from doing so again for weeks or months at a time.
I brushed the screen next to Bee’s door, attempting to trigger the interior camera. The tech didn’t obey my touch.
A slight breeze stirred my hair. It was long enough now to tickle my eyelashes when I looked up. The sensation was so novel that I had actually lifted my face to it before I realized they’d switched on the gas.
I placed the mask Jackson had given me over my mouth and nose, banging on Bee’s door even though I knew it was too thick for her to hear me. Magic stirred lazily through the second-highest blood tattoo on my spine.
Socks? You here?
“I am. I’m here, Bee. Tell the others.”
The connection is spotty.
“Are they gassing you, Bee? Bee?”
She didn’t answer.
Jackson got Nul5’s door partially open. Fish wrenched it the rest of the way, then practically shoved Becca aside as he charged from his room. His gaze met mine — furious but under control — as Jackson shoved a breathing apparatus into his hand. He nodded as he put it on, then stepped across the hall, laying his hand across the locking mechanism for Tek5’s door.
Fish was wearing his armor but wasn’t carrying any weapons. We weren’t allowed weapons on level three or in our rooms. But then, we were the weapons. I still wanted to collect my blades, though. And some sort of clothing would be a good idea.
I already had the perfect outfit in mind.
The mask was keeping my lungs clear, but my eyes were starting to sting from whatever they were pumping into the hall. Nul5 was still focused on Zans’s door, his magic pulsing along the hall. The lock mechanism sparked, then died.
“Clear!” he shouted, moving to the side of the door. His command reverberated through my mind, helped along by Bee.
The door to Tek5’s room bulged out, then buckled inwardly. It tore loose from the frame, crumpling in on itself until it was a large ball of metal. Zans stepped into the hall, her hand extended forward. She was also dressed in her flexible armor. So they’d had a heads-up. The crumpled door moved with Zans, just a step ahead.
“Show-off,” Fish groused.
Cla5’s door slid open. Jackson whooped.
“Down in front!” Zans shouted. She launched the twisted ball of steel down the corridor. It picked up speed, zooming toward the airlock door.
Calhoun and Flynn spun out of the way, shields of magic snapping up around them.
The crumpled door hit the airlock dead center. Zans continued to stride forward, coughing from the gas she’d inhaled. She battered the airlock over and over. It dented, then crumpled, then tore away from its frame.
Fish darted into Knox’s room, exiting with Cla5 over his shoulder.
I cried out before I could stop myself, lunging forward as Nul5 laid the clairvoyant on the floor.
Fish moved toward Bee’s door before Knox’s limp head had even rolled to the side. I dropped to my knees, sliding the last few inches to place my hand on Knox’s chest. He wasn’t breathing.
Fish tore through the locking mechanism on Bee’s door, nullifying magic and electronics alike.
I shoved both hands up Knox’s shirt, placing my palms on his chest. He was still dressed in his sweats. The gas had either hit him earlier, or he had less resistance to it than the rest of us. Or he’d been swamped with visions and unable to fully function, locked away from everyone else. I gathered my magic under my hands, readying a huge pulse of amplification. I was hoping to shock his heart with it, hoping to force his magic to revive him. It was intrusive and desperate. But none of us was a healer — a deliberate oversight on the part of the Collective.
Coughing, Fish got Bee’s door open, diving through the opening as Jackson moved to my door. Zans had disappeared into the airlock, likely busting her way — our way — up and down the stairwell.
I hit Knox with all the magic I’d gathered, slamming a massive dose of amplification into his chest. He convulsed.
I hit him again.
And again.
His head snapped back with the last blast, body straining upward, teeth and jaw clenched on a scream. The white of his magic flooded through his eyes.
He reared upward, though I tried to hold him down. He grabbed my upper arms hard enough to bruise them, silently screaming.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
A shudder ran through him, and he let me settle him back to the floor.
“Socks,” he whispered. “Left, left.” But he wasn’t talking to me. Well, he was talking to me. Except it was the future me that only he could see in his mind’s eye.
“Quit playing around, Amp5,” Fish snarled.
I glanced up the hall. Nul5 was carrying Bee from her room.
The telepath was dressed in her armor. So everyone but Knox and me had some extra protection from the magical assault we were about to face. I realized it was possible they’d gassed Knox first, right after I’d gotten out of the med bay. Taking out the clairvoyant before he could see the decision being made to sacrifice the Five made sense.
Jackson got the door to my room open, darting toward the airlock as soon as she did. I disentangled myself from Knox, who was breathing but had closed his eyes. I pressed my breathing apparatus over his nose and mouth as Flynn stepped over to help him up.
“Go ahead of me,” I said. “Reconnoiter in the stairwell.”
Flynn nodded, moving quickly with Knox propped up on his shoulder.
With the airlock open, the gas was likely diffusing into the stairwell, but I kept low anyway as I stepped into my room. I ignored the armor hanging in my closet, barely giving anything else a second glance. Instead, I crossed to the bed and pulled out the roll of fabric I’d hidden under it. The gift Sasha Piper had given me.
I unrolled the green cotton-and-spandex sundress, quickly tugging it on over my head. It fell to a few inches above my knees.
It felt like freedom.
My eyes were watering as I pulled on panties. I grabbed socks and my tactical boots but didn’t linger to put them on.
I had no other personal possessions to take with me.
And even if I had, I would have gladly left every single other thing behind.
The others were clustered at the landing at level three. Knox and Bee were both on their feet. A hushed but angry argument was in progress between Fish and Calhoun. But everyone turned at my approach, eyeing me as I sat at their collective feet to tug on and lace up my boots.
“What the fuck is that?” Fish snarled.
I ignored him.
“Where is your armor?”
I shrugged. “This is what I’m wearing.”
“We trust you to get us out of here, Amp5. We trust you to make this right.”
Allowing his anger to wash over me, I cinched my laces tightly, then gained my feet to level a heavy stare at him.
He snapped his mouth shut, looking away from me.
“Out of bounds, Fish,” Knox murmured.
“I got that, thanks.”
“Calhoun, Flynn, and Jackson are heading straight up and out,” I said. “The five of us will be following Zans down to the bottom. Level five. We’ll back her mission, then retreat.”
Calhoun was already shaking his head. A slow grin spread over Fish’s face. This plan was obviously what they’d been fighting about.
“Jackson, do you have any extra respirators?”
“One more.” Jackson handed that last mask to Zans. “But the magic threaded through the filter will probably only last another twenty or thirty minutes.”
“If we aren’t out in thirty minutes,” I said, “we’re already dead.”
Zans spun away with a laugh, heading down the stairs with Fish right behind her.
Calhoun opened his mouth to protest.
“Wait,” I said, interrupting him. “Bee? Knox? Heading out with the rest of the team, readying our passage … if you feel …”
Knox gave me a withering look, turning away to head down the stairs. Bee snorted, crossing her arms.
“I’d like you to reconsider,” Mark said quietly.
Jackson and Flynn stepped away.
I eyed the sandy-haired sorcerer. Then I offered him a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t regret one minute of being in your bed, Mark.”
Bee exhaled, surprised. Then she started coughing, waving me off when I glanced at her in concern.
“Come with me, then,” Mark said. “Forget this folly of making the Collective pay.”
“I owe them this. The others.”
“You don’t. You’ve … your whole life has already been theirs. Choose your next steps unhindered.”
I smiled more genuinely. “I am. I already did. Thank you.”
“Then we’re coming with you.”
“You’ll slow us down. We’ll worry about accidentally hurting you. And when you die … it will hurt me.”
“There’s a chance I’m about to die just trying to get out of the building.”
I nodded, then I glanced up the stairs to see Jackson and Flynn watching us. “Thank you. It’s been … it would all have been a lot harder … all of it … without you.”
They nodded in unison.
Then because that was what always happened in every action movie I’d ever seen — all five of them — I pressed a kiss to Mark’s lips.
He brushed his fingers through my hair — gifting me with another completely novel sensation — and kissed me back.
“Don’t wait for me,” I said. “If I’m not right behind you, I’m not coming.”
I turned away before he could respond, heading down the stairs with Bee on my heels. I knew Calhoun would get Flynn and Jackson out. He was their commanding officer, and that was more important than one night with me. As it should be.
And what Zans and Fish were about to do would ensure that the Collective would be in disarray long enough that Calhoun, Flynn, and Jackson’s involvement in our rebellion would be incidental.
Was it good? With Mark? Better than Fish?
I nodded, answering Bee in my head, not out loud. Different.
She made a thoughtful noise, then we found the others waiting for us one level down.
“Weapons cache next,” I said.
“Already ahead of you, Socks,” Zans said, flicking her fingers toward the door to the corridor.
It crumpled under the assault of her magic, then blew inward.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly tight. “Remember they’re people. Just employees.”
The four of them turned to look at me as one, magic boiling around them. Deadly and fierce, ready to be released. Completely unfettered.
“Anyone who hasn’t evacuated already dies,” Fish said coolly. “Either they’re in our way, or they leave us vulnerable from behind.”
Bee, Knox, and Zans nodded.
“It’s okay, Socks,” Zans said with a sneer. “Fish and I will take the brunt of the murder and destruction. We’re better at it.”
She walked away.
The others followed.
I hesitated. But only for a breath.