When dinner ended, Galen debated whether to ask Allie back to his apartment, or just kiss her goodnight and leave the invitation for another night. It was too soon, he decided, as she made no move to get close enough to him for a kiss. Instead, she waved as she stepped onto a skimmer to take her home.

Galen was tempted to step onto the hovering platform behind her, wrapping his arms around her body so they could go back to her place or his and get closer still.

He shook his head. Not until he knew she was safe. Safe from the clutches of the siren. Until then, he'd have to content himself with explicit dreams about her. And finish his project sooner.

Instead of taking his own skimmer home, he headed back to the workshop. If he finished it tonight, he could set the bomb in place before the end of the week, let it do its damage, and hunt the siren before next week's pizza date with Allie. He'd have to buy some alcohol to celebrate. Then, he'd tell her everything about his successful hunt for his parents' killer, so she could celebrate the victory with him. War would never be over for terrorists like Halcyon. The siren wasn't reasonable the way people like him and Allie were. The siren was a crazed killer who had to be stopped before she killed again.

And he was the man to do it, he was certain of it. What had Allie said tonight? What price was he willing to pay for peace?

"Almost anything, except her life," Galen swore. He wouldn't let the siren take anyone else he cared about. Never again.