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“You should know as well as I do—Grandmother’s operatives work alone for the most part. She keeps her cards close to her chest.” She looks down and adds bitterly, “Kept. She kept them close to her chest.”

Lyssa looks at Scarlett with meaning. “We need to alert everyone on that list about this, ASAP.” She turns to Brie. “We have no more use for her. Do you?”

Brie’s voice is ice. “I do not. You’re welcome to use the grounds here for disposal, as I said.”

I watch as Lyssa raises her weapon, ready to end this here and now. But Scarlett’s voice cuts in. “Wait.”

She draws Lyssa aside for a conversation, their voices low. I strain to hear, catching only snippets. Lyssa sounds frustrated. “Are you fucking kidding me? Hadria will lose it at me—again.”

When they return, Lyssa’s sigh is heavy with resignation. “We’re taking Katy back to Chicago. Scarlett wants to see if she can be…deprogrammed.”

Katy’s protest is immediate. “I don’t want to go to Chicago. Kill me now.”

Lyssa’s response is sharp. “You don’t get a say in the matter.”

As Lyssa and Scarlett load Katy into their car, I take Brie’s hand and squeeze it. “You OK?”

“Never better.” She gives me a closer look. “What is it?”

I try to find a way to explain it. “Well…let’s just say you’re definitely no ‘wannabe’ anymore.”

She grins. “Oh, really?” There’s a flash of the old Brie there, and it warms my heart. I love her in all her aspects, but I don’t want her to be so cold and mercilessallthe time, like she was tonight.

Wait.

Love?

“What is it?” Brie asks at once. “Nik, you look…weird. What’s wrong?”

I’m frantically turning my word choice over in my mind, but my thoughts are interrupted by the sudden appearance of headlights in the distance, cutting through the darkness of the desert night. We all freeze, watching as the lights grow closer.

Two cars. One a minute or so behind the other. Both high off the ground—SUVs, or similar.

“You expecting company?” I call over to Lyssa and Scarlett, my hand already reaching for my weapon.

“Nope,” Lyssa calls back, slamming the door on Katy. “Heads up, Scar.” Lyssa and Scarlett take up defensive positions on either side of their car, and I open the back door of ours to pull Holden out, before positioning myself in front of him and Brie.

“What’s going on?” he asks. “Who’s coming?”

“Shut your mouth and let me do the talking,” I snap, because the first car is close enough for me to recognize it now.

And we might all die here tonight if we’re not careful.

The car pulls up, and the driver gets out, a too-familiar, hulking figure, who heads around to open the other door. And then my worst nightmare comes to life as Eva Novak jumps out in jeans and a cashmere sweater.

“Eva?” I call out. “I?—”

“Get in the car, Dominika,” Eva orders. “Your job is done.”

I don’t move. My feet feel rooted to the ground, my loyalty to Brie warring with years of conditioned obedience to the Consortium.

To Eva.

“Why are you here?” I ask desperately.

“We are here because of you, naturally.” Me? “Thank you, by the way, for being so diligent,” she goes on. “I had my doubts about your loyalty, but the tracker signal you sent out worked perfectly. And so here we are, as you see.”

“What tracker?” Brie asks sharply. “What does she mean?”