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Michio had done this? Caged me in the back of a truck like a goddamned animal? No, Michio wouldn’t have done this. The man who had snatched me from the battle was like an unknown enemy, not one of my guardians. Panic rose, hot and angry, burning through my lungs.

Where were Jesse and Roark? Did they survive the battle? My chest tightened, and my breaths grew harsh and painful. They had to be alive. I refused to believe otherwise. Maybe they would catch up with me somehow? They could be out there right now, watching me like always.

The pavement blurred behind the truck, illuminated by the dim glow of the taillights and bleeding into thick blackness. No headlights trailing behind. No tracks for them to follow.

The hope of them finding me and watching over me was disintegrating, ideas left behind in a fleeting dream or on a hemorrhaging battlefield.

I clenched my hands. How did I end up here? Michio must’ve drugged me to keep me asleep until he reached the truck? I didn’t remember anything since the strike to my neck earlier today. Or yesterday? How much time had passed?

Rage surged through my veins, pumping to the clipped beat of my heart. What happened to Michio to make him do this? Where the fuck was he? I could sense him, could feel the hum all around me.

I spun and found the rear window of the cab open. Inside, the wide shoulders of two men filled the single bench seat. The driver wore a baseball cap, his blond hair frizzing around his nape. And the passenger… Despite the shadows in the cab, I could make out the perfect symmetry of his profile, the sculpted angles of his hairless jaw, and the seductive almond-shape of his eyes.

Gripping the support bars of the cage, I pulled myself to my knees and scooted to the side so that I could see his profile. The cold metal bit into my fingers as I yelled through the open window, “Did you drug me, Michio? Why the fuck am I caged?”

He stared toward the center of the front dash, maybe so he could watch me out of the corner of his eye, but there wasn’t a flinch in his expressionless features.

“Where are we?” I raised my voice, shouting over the wind. “Did you hear me? Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t twitch an eyelash. Didn’t acknowledge me at all. What was wrong with him? He would never put me in danger. Even under his imprisonment in Malta, he protected me, took care of me. This man was not Michio.

The Drone must’ve done this to him. But what? How? What had he been through to reduce him to this…this empty thing? My chest ached for him, my body tightening with worry.

Up ahead, a red trail of taillights snaked into the dark. At least a dozen vehicles traveled in some kind of caravan. Who were they?

I swatted the hair out of my face and scanned the surrounding darkness. Every few breaths, I felt the distant buzz of aphids, the sensations flickering as we sped in and out of range.

The terrain appeared flat and barren beyond the occasional abandoned car. I couldn’t see buildings or road signs. Were those fields? Kansas? Were we heading west?

Hazy clouds hovered over the moon, crisscrossed by the wire ceiling of my enclosure. I didn’t know how to navigate using moon phases or constellations, and the landscape was so dark I couldn’t see a damned thing.

I turned back to the cab. “Where have you been for the past four months? Did you find the Drone? Who’s in all those cars?”

Could Jesse and Roark be with them? Certainly not willingly. Not with me back here in a fucking cage.

Michio didn’t blink, didn’t give me so much as a sideways glance.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?” Frustration and hurt edged my voice, straining my words. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t be getting any answers, but I had to keep trying. “What happened to you, Michio? Please look at me.”

When he didn’t, I slammed a hand against the cage wall, rattling it, and shifted my attention to the driver. “Who the fuck are you? Did Michio bite you? Were you part of the group that attacked us in Missouri?”

I paused between each question. When he didn’t respond or blink, I continued with more, hoping something I said would finally break their torpid silence. “Where’s the Drone? Can you feel my presence the way I can feel yours? You know, the hum under your skin? I bet you can. I bet you can feel how fucking pissed I am right now!”

Nothing. They were stiff, unresponsive entities, like robots, driving the truck, following the snake of taillights, staring straight ahead. They didn’t communicate with each other, didn’t exchange a single look.