XLIII

Cath’s blood ran dark red against Blair’s wall of windows, as if the sprinklers had rained rusty water. It was a good thing Blair had replaced her skin with the gloves Maxine had provided. She didn’t have time to waste finding cleaning supplies. She had always been inventive, one of her best qualities, especially when she was under pressure. And look at how much pressure she was under now, bots buzzing around, a Key Corp soldier watching from her door. This was just another chance to shine.

“Just another chance to shine!” Blair bellowed as she balled up another clean corner of her plush throw rug and scrubbed at more rivulets of blood. She would return her office to its spick-and-span glory if it killed her.

“Blair?”

Blair’s breathy pants fogged the section of window she’d just polished as she stilled and closed her eyes. Was that Cath’s voice? Is that who was calling her? Had this all been a dream? Would Cath stand in front of her when Blair opened her eyes? Would she lean over Blair’s bed, her fingers plucking the air that way they did while her halo of golden hair framed her kind and loving features?

“Blair? ”

That was it. This had been a dream, a nightmare. It had to be. Blair would wake up and these false visions would fade into smoke and slip from her memory before she could even say what had happened. This wasn’t real. She dropped the rug and pressed her hands against the glass. None of this was real.

“Blair! ” Maxine slapped the window, and Blair’s eyes flew open. “The bots will do that.”

Blair went cold and hot all at once. This wasn’t a dream, wasn’t a nightmare. This was all too real. Goosebumps rose on her flesh, stopping when they reached her gloved forearms. “Cath . . .” she whimpered and turned to face her dutiful assistant.

Maxine shook her head. “She’s gone, Blair.” She said the words so matter-of-factly Blair had to lean against the window to steady herself. “And you need to snap out of it. There are Key Corp higher ups here—investigators. You don’t want to embarrass yourself or appear weak, or—” she waved her hand in front of Blair’s face. “Or frantic.” Maxine tugged on the untucked end of her blouse. Pink spots stained the white silk.

Black fabric or not, Blair couldn’t make herself look at her own outfit. “You cleaned off the blood.”

Maxine’s throat bobbed with a tight swallow. “I did what I had to do. That’s something you taught me.” A bot buzzed past the vague shape of Cath Scott on the floor.

Right now, Blair couldn’t remember teaching anyone anything.

“So,” Maxine said, with another pull at her blouse. “Snap out of it and do what needs to be done.”

Maxine had said that twice now, Snap out of it. As if it was so easy. As if she’d ever had to snap out of anything in her privileged little blip of a life. Oh, Blair would snap out of it all right. She’d snapped out of worse than this.

“This.” The window squeaked as Blair dragged her gloved fingers down the glass. “Is my office. Mine! ”

Maxine’s eyelids fluttered as she steadied herself against Blair’s unstable storm of emotions. “Yes, and, as I said, I don’t want you to embarrass yourself.”

Blair’s cheeks puffed, ready to release another destabilizing blast, when a red blur caught the corner of her eye. Key Corp investigators. A swarm of them. All gathered outside the door around Major Rhett Owens. Blair stiffened and narrowed her eyes at Maxine. “Walk. Away.” The words left her mouth as daggers. Maxine took a wobbly step back before she turned and walked past the Key Corp soldier standing in the doorway.

Blair brushed back her mane of soft curls, pausing when she reached a section crunchy with drying blood. It was everywhere. Cath was everywhere. Blair pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as she took in her office. Red chunks clung to the ceiling, the walls, rested in thick, gooey puddles on the floor. One of the soldiers had covered Cath’s body with a sheet that radiated violet light. New tech. Blair dropped her hand and smoothed her fingers over her gloved forearms. The Key was always coming up with new tech.

To health. To life. To the future.

All three of those things had all been taken from Cath. They had all been taken by Eos. How had the Key not seen it coming? How had Blair not seen it coming? Eos had taken everything from her.

Blair surged forward and nearly tripped over the blood-smeared rug piled by her feet. “Rhett,” she shouted over the hum of bots and men whose discussions were no doubt turning Cath’s death into numbers. “Major Owens!” Blair repeated, stepping out of the office that had once given her such pride.

The red barrier of men parted and Rhett emerged, skittish and panting. His brows rocketed up his forehead and his gaze darted back and forth. Apparently, the Major wasn’t used to violent, bloody ends.

Blair grimaced and motioned for him to follow her down the hallway. She couldn’t stay near her office. She couldn’t keep staring at the blood and the goo and Cath’s lifeless body.

Rhett followed her. A dark purple lump protruded from just under his left eye, its swirl of color radiating like heatwaves. With each step away from the scene, he grew taller, more confident. By the time they reached the end of the hall, the frightened, shell-shocked soldier had faded. “Got some kind of fancy new nanite injection,” he said. “Should be all cleared up by tomorrow.” He winced as he grazed the swollen knot with his fingertips. “You’ve got a wicked desk in there.” He nodded back down the hall toward the doorway and the onyx slab just beyond. “Doctor said that a few inches over and up,” he tapped his temple, “and I’d be a goner.”

Blair let out a bark of laughter. “My mother is dead.” She bit the inside of her cheek. Cath wasn’t her mother. Cath wasn’t her mother!

Cath isn’t my mother!

Red.

Rhett cleared his throat. “Yes, I am terribly sorry about what transpired. If I—”

“You’re sorry?” Blair lifted onto the toes of her pointed stilettos. “I’ll—I’ll . . .”

I’ll kill you!

Despite the fury burning hot within her veins, Blair couldn’t say what she felt or follow it up with any action. She still needed Major Rhett Owens, the blockheaded lump of a man. Blair’s teeth sounded like sandpaper as she gnashed them together. “Major Owens, where is Aiden?” Her voice shook, her hands shook, her legs shook.

Where is my brother?!

She dug her nails into her palms. It was fitting that the gloves protected her from the pain of her jagged nails and raw cuticles. Blair had always been protecting herself.

Rhett’s good eye twitched. “I’ll find him.” Another twitch. “I’ll find Elodie.”

Tears bit at Blair’s eyes. “People think living without them is hard.” She tilted her chin toward the ceiling and blinked the tears back. “Living without them is the easy part. It’s living for them that will rip you to shreds.” Blair took a deep breath. In control of herself once again, she settled her gaze on Rhett. “You will find them, Major, and I’ll be right there when you do.” Blair sniffled and forced her grief and anger and panic into the luggage in which she stored the lies she told herself and the lies she told others. She’d unpack them later.

With studied ease and grace, Blair clasped her hands in front of her. “Thank you, Major Owens.” She nodded, turned, and headed toward the restroom. The hairs on her arms rose and a sharp chill brushed her neck. The same kind of cold that welcomed blizzards and froze lakes.

As Blair took another step, she was sure she heard the distinct crack of fragile ice.