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“You’re being naive.” Jenna stands, tugging Kira up with her. “No offense, but masked strangers in clubs aren’t exactly safe bets. Even if they have great costumes.”

I incline my head, acknowledging her point while seething inside. If she only knew how many hours I’ve spent protecting Kira from real threats. How many stalkers and perverts I’ve blocked from her social media and gaming platforms before she even saw them.

“Thanks for the drink,” Kira says, apologetically smiling. “Maybe I’ll see you at the convention?”

“Count on it.” The modulator turns my words into a growl that makes her shiver.

Jenna practically drags her away, throwing one last suspicious glance over her shoulder. Smart girl. Too smart. She might be a problem when the time comes.

But for now, I let them go. Three days until the convention. Let Jenna play protector. Soon enough, Kira won’t need anyone else’s protection. She’ll have mine. Forever.

8

KIRA

Irun my fingers over the intricate details of my Aloy costume, checking every buckle and strap one last time in the mirror. The leather armor hugs my curves, and the synthetic red hair falls over my shoulders.

“You’re fussing again,”Jennasays from my bed, already dressed in her Lara Croft outfit. “It looks amazing! Stop worrying.”

“I know, I know.” I adjust the quiver on my back, ignoring the strange sense of foreboding that’s been following me all morning. “I want everything to be perfect. And maybe...” My voice trails off as I think about how the stranger’s hands felt on my hips as we danced.

“Oh no. I know that look.” Jenna sits up, a theatrical sigh escaping her lips. “You’re thinking aboutclub guyagain, aren’t you?”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Not just him. That Ghost cosplayer who showed up at the second club... the way he scared off that creep who wouldn’t leave me alone. There was something about him...”

“Kira.” Jenna’s voice carries that warning tone I know too well, but there’s a hint of jealousy laced in her words. “Random guys in masks are not safe. We’ve talked about this. Honestly, can’t I catch a break? You’ve got all these guys fawning over you while I’m just here. It’s like I’m invisible.”

“I know, but—” I fiddle with one of Aloy’s braids, feeling guilty. “Did you see how he moved? How did he just know exactly what to do? And those shoulders...” A shiver runs through me at the memory.

“And what about Mr. Blue Eyes from the first club? Weren’t you obsessing over him, too?”

“I can’t help it.” I flop onto the bed beside her. “They both made me feel... different. Special. Like they saw right through me.” My phone buzzes with a convention alert, but underneath it is a notification from an unknown number:

Looking forward to seeing you today.

I quickly swipe it away beforeJennanotices, a chill running down my spine. “At least I won’t be thinking aboutRoguenot showing up anymore.”

“Small mercies.”Jennachecks her prop guns. “Ready to head out?”

I grab my convention badge and prop bow, excitement bubbling up despite my confused feelings and that unsettling text. “Born ready. Let’s go be badass gaming heroines.”

I can’t shake the feeling that something’s different as we leave my apartment. The hallway security camera that never works tracks our movement, its small red light blinking steadily. I hurryJennapast it, not wanting to voice my paranoia.

The bus lurches around another corner, and I grab the pole to keep my balance. My Aloy costume draws appreciative glances from fellow Con-goers packed into the crowded vehicle. A guy in a Kratos costume gives me a respectful nod.

“Look!” I nudgeJenna, pointing out the window at the growing line outside the convention center. The morning sun glints off prop weapons and armor as hundreds of cosplayers queue up.

I spot the first Ghost costume in line. Then another. And another. Each one makes my stomach clench with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

“Oh, wow, there are so many of them this year.” I press my face closer to the glass, trying to catch the details of each costume. Some have the classic mask, while others sport the newer tactical gear. A few even have working LED effects. Anyone of them could be him—the one from the club.

My phone buzzes again. Another text from the same unknown number:

I see you on the bus. Red hair suits you.

I quickly turn it face down on my lap, scanning the bus frantically. No one seems to be watching me specifically, but the message is clear: someone is.

“You okay?”Jennaasks, noticing my sudden tension. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”