Frustratingly tight, she thought, tucking her sock feet under her. Someone had taken her boots, and her feet were like ice. Her shooting gloves, too, were gone along with the scarf.

“If I don’t get my Evocane, you’re not going to have much left to interrogate!” she shouted, stiffening when Jack sat up as the metal door screeched open. A dark factory floor was quickly eclipsed by an Asian man in a lab coat.

“Oh, look, it’s your meds,” Jack said when Peri saw the syringe in his hand. Her pulse raced, and she stood, not sure she liked this. It might not be Evocane.

“We didn’t expect you to be awake for another hour,” the technician said as he came forward and stopped before the fencing.

“She’s a light sleeper.” Jack ambled forward to peer inquisitively at the syringe.

“What’s on the menu?” Peri asked, not sure she’d believe him even if he told her.

The technician hesitated. “Your fix.”

“Evocane?” Peri looked past him to Jack, who made a “why not?” expression. Taking off Helen’s coat, then the WEFT jacket, she pushed her sleeve up and pressed her shoulder to the chain link. Someone had just arrived and withdrawal was mere hours away. If they wanted to drug her, they only had to wait until she collapsed.

The tech roughly swabbed her shoulder, and her chin rose. “I didn’t ask for this,” she said.

His eyes flicked up to hers. “You didn’t want to be a god?”

“Is that what he told you it is?” she said, stiffening against the prick of the needle and the sudden ache of pressure. “They forced it on me. All of them. I wanted to retire.”

He pulled the needle out with a shade more gentleness. Eyes averted, he rose. “He knows I have two kids. I can’t help you. Don’t ask.”

Leaning to see his watch, she put Helen’s coat back on, grateful for the warmth. Two hours until midnight. “Can you at least tell me where I am?” Peri asked, and his ears reddened. A pleasant lassitude was spilling into her, but it was only relief that she had another twenty-four hours before her demon would show again. Isn’t it? “Hey, what did you give me?”

“Something to make the next hour more tolerable,” he muttered. Again the door screamed a torturous squeal of metal on metal, and Peri backed up as Michael deliberately pushed the technician aside and came in, eyes roving over the space to tell Peri he hadn’t been here before, or at least not with the boxes on the wrong side of the fence. His dress shoes looked odd on the cold cement floor, his tailored suit and coat even more so among the industrial grime and dust.

“Out,” Michael said, and the technician obediently left. Peri chuckled when Michael shut the door, sealing the two of them in the cold silence lit by a bare bulb at the ceiling. Eyeing her, he swung a metal chair from the pile and set it down before the chain link. “You find being confined amusing?” There was a bottled water in his hand, and she licked her lips. “The evening shows promise.”

“Oh, God. He’s going to monologue,” Jack said as he tried to follow the technician out, but the door didn’t budge. “Just shoot me now.” He hammered on the thick metal, the echoes of sound that weren’t really there making Peri jump. “Hello? Hey! I’m not supposed to be here. Can someone let me out before Major Delusion starts talking?”

Peri pulled herself out of the shadows and into the bare bulb’s light, not happy her sarcastic humor was showing itself through Jack. “I think it’s sweet you spent last week trying to kill me, and now that you’ve got me, you’re keeping me alive against Helen’s wishes.”

Jack quit hammering on the door, turning to lean against it as a faint hope sparked through her. Bill probably didn’t know about this. He wanted her alive. She was his girl. Every moment she sat in one spot, the stronger the signal of that radioactive tracer he gave her last spring would become. Perhaps she should play nice—stall for time. “Sorry about this. I didn’t know I was running a double-blind study. But that’s Opti for you.”

Michael smiled without mirth, pulling the chair back another three feet before sitting. “It’s fixable, and with Helen thinking you’re dead and Bill thinking you’re missing, we’ve got time. And speaking of dead, what’s your car’s pass code?”

Eyebrows high, she snorted. “It hasn’t been searched yet? Opti is getting slow.”

He brought an ankle up to a knee, reclining as he checked his phone and set it on his upraised leg. “They cleared out the safe behind the communications screen before we left that swamp. Your thumb turned everything on but the engine.” He took a sip of water and wiped his mouth. “What is that? Voice activated?”

“No,” she said, wondering why Jack was so fascinated with his hand all of a sudden. “One of the drugs you gave me must have registered over the legal alcohol limit.” She couldn’t help but wonder whether her car was anywhere close—or at the bottom of a cliff with a dead woman who looked like her in it.

“Your car is a Breathalyzer? Damn. That’s rough.” Setting the water down, Michael leaned toward the fence, his smile wicked. “If the lock pad didn’t require living, oxygenated tissue, I would’ve cut your thumb off. Made it into a car fob.”

Close, she guessed, disgusted at the mental image his words had evoked, but thankful someone had known about the Mantis’s living-tissue lock.