The Operator

“Fine. But I want you to take the accelerator, too,” Allen said as he wiped his fingers on his napkin.

Silas’s lip curled. “To give to Peri? No. It’s poison.”

Allen tossed his wadded-up napkin aside. “So much for choice.”

“The accelerator isn’t a choice, it’s madness,” Silas said.

“And forgetting isn’t?” Allen leaned forward, hunched over his plate. “That hallucination you put in her to cover up your mistake isn’t madness?”

Silas exhaled, putting his hands under the table to hide them.

“You know, if you have it, Steiner can’t force it on the next drafter he finds,” Harmony said, and Silas eased back. He could do that, and it might even be helpful in creating an Evocane substitute.

“Fine. I’ll take the accelerator,” he said softly. “How long until you can get it?”

The two men looked expectantly at her, and Harmony hesitated. “Ahhh, what the hell,” she finally whispered. “A few hours, maybe?”

Elation filled him, and his eyes closed in a long blink of relief. He wouldn’t let her be forced into something because he failed. He would find her, keep her from suffering through withdrawal. But what scared him most was Jack, filling her head with the memory of when she was strong, bulletproof, and more vulnerable to manipulation than a two-year-old child.

He would risk everything for her. All Peri needed was time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The smooth, lithe arm lying over Bill’s moved fitfully, pulling up and away as Susanne turned over. Bill’s eyes opened at the flush of cooler air on his backside. A faint glow had lit the bedroom, and an accompanying hum came from the bedside table.

“Bill, get your phone,” the woman complained. “I have to be up in an hour.”

Groggy, he rolled to the edge of his bed, dragging the covers with him. She pulled them back when he squinted at the phone to read the name in a faint, holographic print. Jack? he thought, surprised the anchor had gotten himself to a phone already. He hadn’t expected to hear from him for at least a week. Maybe WEFT had believed him and given him some freedom. Idiots.

Eyes closed, he flopped back onto the pillow and thumbed the connection open. “Jack?” he breathed. “It’s five in the morning.”

“I’m with Peri,” came faintly through the line, the sound of water running in the background telling Bill that Jack wasn’t on a secure line. “She pulled me out of WEFT custody.”

“You escaped together?” His eyes flicked open as Susanne flung the covers aside and stomped to the bathroom, her black negligee showing off her pale limbs in the dim light. “Fabulous. Wipe her and get back here. You need funds? Assets?” he asked, watching the light coming in under the bathroom door.

“No, we’re in Detroit. She left without any Evocane, meaning she’s got a source outside WEFT’s walls. Soon as she gets it, she’s coming for you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Peri had a right to be pissed, but kill him? She was his girl. Swinging his feet to the floor, Bill tugged the sheet to cover himself and turned on the light. “Denier?” he asked, not believing he’d cracked the biologic.

“The arena’s pissant,” Jack said, his sarcasm heavy. “Peri left half with him, gave half to Steiner so he wouldn’t know there was a second vial and tear the arena apart looking for it. Listen, she made me tell Michael—”

Bill tensed as Jack’s words cut off. He stood, sending his hand under the covers in search of his boxers and dragging them out from the foot of the bed. “Jack?”

“Just a sec,” Jack said, and Bill heard the sound of the phone being set down.

Impatient, Bill tugged his boxers on. Fully awake, he went into the living room, shutting the bedroom door carefully behind him. Detroit spread out below him past the newly renovated window walls. The city lights looked bright even under the light-pollution reduction bulbs that Detroit had put in ten years ago. Habit kept him from going closer to the window for a better view, and he stood in the kitchen, impatient.

“Okay, I’m back,” Jack said. “I wanted to make sure she was in the shower.”

“You told Michael what?” Bill asked, not liking this.

“She had a gun to my gut,” Jack said, and Bill’s brow furrowed, not knowing what was going to come out of Jack’s mouth. “She made me tell him that she had accelerated herself and was on her way home. That you were never going to accelerate him. Bill, she’s on the warpath. Looking for a head on a pole. She doesn’t care if it’s yours or Michael’s. Either way, she gets a win.”

Bill leaned against the glass counter, the entire surface lighting up with the home’s security system, TV schedule, email accounts, and kitchen stores. I’m out of wine, he noted absently, then waved the surface off, head down as he thought through the ramifications. “That sounds like something my Peri would do,” he said, proud of her even as it wreaked havoc with his plans. She was angry and wasn’t going to let anyone walk over her. “Okay.” He’d worked miracles with less. “She’s showering, eh? Get her to draft, and when she jumps, scrub her and get her back here.”

“No.”

“No?” It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it, but the last occasion Jack had told him no, his world had gone to hell.

Bill’s head snapped up as the counter lit up again, the security frame a bright red. From beside the door, the locking panel began flashing. In his hand, his phone began to glow as a security text came in. It was the silent alarm, and his frown deepened. “Oh, good,” he said sarcastically, wishing he was wearing something more than boxers. “I think Michael’s here. Get Peri back to Opti, or I’m coming for you myself, Jack. Understand?”