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“Roark?”

I waited in silence while he installed his wee explosive. When he stood and faced me, his expression was fierce. “Ye be dog wide up there.”

Dog wide? “Seriously, man. I don’t understand half of what comes out of your mouth.”

He grabbed my wrist and hauled me down the tunnel. “Keep your backside safe, lass.”

The midday sun did nothing for the bitter chill that slapped my face. I squinted watery eyes to shield them from the glare. Add to that the wind speed from the bike. We found out just how fast the Harley could go as we left the neighborhood. Aphids fringed the street as if they lay waiting for our emersion.

“Lanky wasters,” Roark shouted as he yawed the bike in and out of mutant strikes. I sighted the pistol on the closest ones as we passed. One…two…three down. Their buzzing surged through me. Along with a rush of energy. A quirk pulled my lips.

The bike slowed to round the corner. The wave inside me lurched into a rhythm. Up ahead, a single aphid stood in the street, rooted to the pavement. It turned its head. Our eyes locked. Then its wide body quivered in tempo with mine.

Drrrrrrrrone penetrated my chest. Not my ears.

Roark zigzagged the bike through lawns as we passed it. I looked over my shoulder. The mutant didn’t budge. Not even when the spasm of aphids parted around it.

Drone-drone-drone vibrated through me. Still, it didn’t move. Its eyes bored into mine. A knowing rammed my chest. A calling pulled me to it. I had to go back.

Would Roark stop the bike? Not a chance. I released my hold on his waist, tucked my chin and arms, and rolled off.

“Evieeee. Bloody hellllll.”

My shoulder hit the pavement. Ow. Fuck.

Tires screeched behind me.

“Evie. I’ll feckin’ kill ye myself.”

I tumbled to my feet and ran toward the fray.

Every conquering temptation represents a new fund of moral energy.

Every trial endured and weathered in the right spirit

makes a soul nobler and stronger than it was before.

William Butler Yeats

The furor of aphids sprang toward me, but my focus narrowed on the one who stood still. I braced my wrist and deflected an oncoming claw with my forearm. Then I swapped out the pistol for a knife in midstride.

Roark’s sword clanged behind me. I moved through the horde, slicing and piercing any in my way. Bodies thudded on the road and I spun free of the fight.

The wind blinded me. Blood and drivel clumped my eyelashes. Yet through the haze, I met the rage burning in Roark’s eyes. So what? He didn’t have to follow me into battle. He could’ve left my ass. But there he was, pissed and fighting, instead of dodging and hiding. I’d deal with that complication later.

I turned back to my target, its posture inert. The churning in my chest drew me closer, the knife’s hilt warm in my hand. The aphid’s pearlescent orbs were as unwavering as its body. An invisible current writhed between us. I raised the knife and let its gaze consume me.

Fffffound you marched through my veins.

“Me?” I asked aloud and felt foolish doing so.

Foooound.

The aphid blurred to the side and disappeared between two houses.

Behind me, the last head thumped to the pavement. Roark panted. I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my back.

“Evie.”

I turned around. He leaned on his sword. The death that clung to him matched the glare he aimed at me. I squared my shoulders and walked forward, stepping over the headless bodies encircling him. He didn’t move as I brushed back the bloodied hair that matted his forehead.

“I might consider forgiving your daft theatrics…” He waved his hand to the bike sprawled on its side. “If ye tell me wha’ you’re about.”

I just had a conversation with an aphid. He wouldn’t understand what was going on with me. I didn’t even understand it. “I don’t know.”

He ground his teeth and sheathed his sword. “We fix the banjaxed pipe then back to the gaff straightaway.”

“No.” My chin thrust out, as did my chest. “I need books.” I nodded to the carnage. “Insect books.”

Fury seared his every syllable. “I had a canary when ye leapt off the bike. So you’ll tell me wha’ ye were doing with that messenger bug.”

“What? How do you know it was a messenger?”

“They den’ fight. They gawk.”

“And you know this how?”

“Lloyd.” A heavy sigh. “He heard a rake of stories from the minks passing through.”

“If that was a messenger, was it here to deliver a message?” From who? A human? Another aphid?

“They collect information and take it back to their hives.”

“Hives? Dammit, we’ve been together for months. Why am I just hearing about this?”

His whiskered chin tipped to the sky, an exhale pushing through his flared nostrils. Then he dropped his head and leveled his glare at me. “I’m not withholding anything from ye. I told ye they were evolving. The messengers, the hives, I den’ know what it means.”