Chapter 46 Building the Network

Chapter 46 Building the Network
Behind him, Liam was already talking to Victor, planning, preparing. Ezra was at the whiteboard, tracing the names, the locations, the threads that connected everything. Damien was watching the door, watching the windows, watching the shadows.

Adrian stepped out into the rain. The thing inside him was awake now. Not humming. Not stirring. Waiting.

He looked at his hands. The skin was pale, the veins dark beneath. Moving. Shifting. Like something was trying to get out.

He didn't cover them this time.

Chapter 43

The room was white.

Not the warm white of the estate, with its fires and its books and its secrets. This was the white of hospitals. Of laboratories. Of places where people went to be unmade.

Kara sat in a chair. Her wrists were bound. Her ankles were bound. Her back was straight, her chin was up, her eyes were fixed on the door.

She'd been here before. Not this room. Not this game. But the feeling was the same. The waiting. The not knowing. The part of her that had been running for three years and was finally, finally tired of running.

The door opened.

Cassandra walked in. She was dressed in black, her hair pulled back, her face calm. She looked like someone who'd never been afraid of anything in her life.

"Kara Voss," she said. "Three years since your cycle. You were eliminated in the third week. You were collected. You escaped." She tilted her head. "You're the only one who ever has."

Kara didn't answer.

Cassandra circled the chair. Slow. Deliberate. "You've been running ever since. Hiding. Waiting for something. For someone." She stopped in front of Kara. "What were you waiting for?"

"Someone who could end it."

Cassandra's smile was thin. "And did you find them?"

Kara thought about Adrian. About the way he'd looked at her in Pittsburgh, his face open, his hands empty, his voice steady. We're putting something together. People who survived. People who want to fight back.

"I found someone who tried," she said.

Cassandra laughed. It was a cold sound. "Trying isn't enough. In this game, trying gets you killed. Trying gets you collected. Trying gets you—" She gestured to the room, the chair, the bonds. "Here."

She walked to the door, opened it. "The game starts in one hour. You'll be playing with six others. Some you know. Some you don't. The rules are simple. You survive. You advance. You lose." She paused. "The investors are watching. They want to be entertained. I suggest you give them what they want."

She left. The door closed. The lock turned.

Kara sat in the white room, her wrists bound, her ankles bound, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She thought about Derek. About the way he'd looked at her in the motel, when she'd told him about Adrian, about the network, about the possibility of something different.

You think they can win? he'd asked.

I think they can try, she'd said.

She thought about Patricia. About the handler who'd let her go. Who'd given her a new name, a new life, a new chance to run.

Don't come back, Patricia had said. Don't let them find you.

She'd come back anyway.

The door opened again. A guard. A man with a face she didn't recognize and eyes that didn't see her. He cut her bonds, pulled her to her feet, led her into the corridor.

The corridor was long. Fluorescent lights. Concrete floors. Doors on either side, each one closed, each one holding something she didn't want to know.

They stopped at the last door. The guard opened it. Pushed her through.

The room beyond was a ballroom. Or had been. The chandeliers were still there, crystal dripping from the ceiling, catching the light. The floor was marble, polished, the kind of floor people used to dance on.

Now it was a stage.

Seven chairs in a circle. Seven players. Seven people who'd been running and were finally caught.

Kara saw Derek first. His face was bruised, his lip split, his eyes hollow. He looked at her like he didn't recognize her.

Then Patricia. The handler who'd saved her. Who'd given her a chance to run. Who'd been running herself, for longer than any of them.

Patricia met her eyes. Held them. There was something in her face that Kara hadn't seen before. Something that looked like hope.

Kara sat in the empty chair. Her hands were shaking. She put them in her lap, clenched them together, made them stop.

Cassandra stood in the center of the circle. The investors were on the balcony above, men and women in expensive clothes, drinks in their hands, eyes on the players.

"Welcome to the main event," Cassandra said.

The lights dimmed. The first game began.